Zoisite
Having wanted to depart for a relatively long while and being happy finally allowed to do so was all well and good, but unfortunately I had never been the kind of person to plan in advance. Yes, I had fantasized about this, but somehow my daydreams had never included mundane cares such as transportation and food.

Truth be told, I knew next to nothing about Grålanden, but I didn’t feel I had great cause to overly worry. After all, there are very few obstacles that a touch of Tennou-magic can’t overcome. That was hardly something a mere border could change. Or so I thought, a belief that led to my simply gating to the little town Jigatso that had become slightly famous for being situated practically on the border to Grålanden.

I’d done my share of curiosity- and boredom-induced random teleports and thus had viewed a rather varied scenery, but I’d never laid eyes on anyplace so filthy as this expanding village. Rows upon rows of barely standing shacks consisting mainly of bamboo and clay greeted my vision, thin and unwashed people moving in and out of them. As if this wasn’t enough, a heavy, poignant stench assaulted my nose, the smell of too many too poor people, of animals and their shit, cheap booze and cheaper perfume, misery and poverty. I stared numbly. And this is supposed to be the good side of the barrier.

I held a freshly conjured purse of gold in my hand before I knew it. I had it disappear as fast as it had come into existence; what they really needed were food and soap and clean water, better blankets and some education. Whereas blankets and water were fairly easy to produce, food was complicated to get right. I think I’d better have a talk with whoever’s in charge here instead. Even so, I slipped a small fortune of coins and jewels and simpler foodstuffs into begging child-hands; since I still wasn’t entirely certain of what exactly I was looking for, my choices of transport were all mundane, and the idea of riding a chariot drawn by a person struck me as nothing short of morbid. I could walk. Oh, it would certainly have been dangerous for a well-dressed pretty-boy who was purely human to do so, but the simple act of dismissing a few wards and glamours allowed enough of my aura to manifest to equal that of a fearsome human sorcerer. Not even the most desperate thugs would go up against that.

Even though I’d blocked the worst of the smells and sounds out with some handy barriers, it was a relief to get further into the town, to where the buildings were, if not of high standing by any means, at least stable and offered real shelter from rough weather. The magical transportation devices were few and far between, most of them aged and working less than perfectly, but the horses were plentiful, the people scattered on the streets dressed in wool and linen rather than rags. It was disturbingly far from my usual crème de la crème environment, but after having witnessed the acute situation outside the inner city walls, I found it endearing.

Upon arriving in these middle-class blocks, I’d concealed my aura better again, but there were still quite a few stares following me. Maybe that was to be expected – a lone youth a few months short of fifteen, androgynous and beautiful, glimmering faintly with the touch of magic. Still, I could change this damnably out-sticking uniform.

After a brief dive into an unpopulated alley, I wore a nondescript outfit in green and white similar to those worn by merchants’ children. Thus disguised, I stopped a passing girl and asked the way to the mayor’s residence. Giving me a rather incredulous look, she pointed at a tower-tip visible over the roofs of the surrounding houses.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, ignoring the not-asked questions of what the hell business I had there.

About ten minutes later, I approached the mansion inhabited by the rulers of Jigatsu. It was a comparably large manse built in slabs of gray stone and black wood, crowned by two towers. I hadn’t thought it possible, but the contrast between this and the shacks outside the wall made me despite said rulers even more.

Taking cover behind a large fence surrounding one of the few other riche mansions, I changed my garb again, this time emerging shrouded in silks and cloth-of-gold. I wasn’t sure yet whether I wanted to remain incognito or not, and so chose an outfit that could have graced any lord at court.

There were four guards posted outside the main entrance, heavy men with swords or axes at their belts. “My lord?” one of them said, tone civil enough tough I considered him impolite for not bowing. My desire to smash him into the wall with a handy blast was fleeting, however – since I didn’t know who the mayor was, I couldn’t teleport to him but needed someone to show me the way.

“I have business with the lord of this town,” I informed him, cursing his height for forcing me to tilt my head back when I gave him a haughty glance.

“If I may ask, from where are these tidings, m’lord?”

“From court,” I replied curtly. “It’s a matter of some interest to a great lot of people of…considerable station.”

I gave him a chilly little smile, wondering if I was doing this the right way. I’d never paid close observance to the lordlings or servants at court.

“This way, please, milord,” the apparent spokesman of the little group of guards said, offering me a low bow as he indicated the gateway.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

I followed him through a number of cold and dreary corridors and up a flight of stairs until we arrived at what I assumed to be the guest suites. My companion stopped outside one of the doors and fished for a key he’d acquired from a woman downstairs, turning it in the lock.

“If we’d had word of your lordship’s coming, we’d have put the rooms in better order, but if your lordship would wait a few minutes the girls will freshen it up, and –”

“That’s of little consequence,” I interrupted him. “I was planning to depart after seeing the mayor, tomorrow at the very latest.”

“I see,” he mumbled. “Well, word has been sent to his lordship, so I’m sure you can see him soon. If your lordship would deign to wait in here for just a little while, there’ll come a servant to escort you.”

“Very well,” I muttered, holding my hand out for the key. After what seemed like a momentary hesitation, he placed the cold metal in my palm. Shutting the sound of his departing steps out behind the door, I inspected the suite.

Considering the state of the rest of the house, it was obviously intended for fine guests, but compared to the standard of court, it was a miserable dwelling. The furniture was heavy and simply crafted, the tapestries adorning the walls bleached by time. And there was a reason they’d meant to have some cleaners take care of the place; a thin layer of dust covered every surface, matted the already dull colors. Feeling my face rearrange itself in a disgusted mien, I waved a hand, polishing the closest chair of with a gust of wind. Satisfied that it was free of dirt, I gingerly seated myself. The comfort matched the quality of the town at large, but I was confident that the mayor would finish off whatever business he was presently engaged in very shortly. A lordling low enough to be appointed ruler of this miserable place couldn’t afford to make court nobility wait.

Confirming that suspicion, someone knocked at the door only a few minutes later. The boy on the other side of it looked to be about my age, and was pretty enough for a human, with soft brown eyes under curly butter-blond hair. He bowed almost to the floor, but I still decided to dislike him, if nothing else because the shapely boots he was evidently favored enough to receive made him almost three inches taller than me.

Being small and fine-boned can have its advantages, especially when you’re curling up to someone and aim to convince them that you’re little and helpless and sweet and need their protection so badly, but it ruins mostly every try to be intimidating or dignified, at least coupled with my face and temper.

Fortunately, when it came to humans, I had something much better than the impression of being powerful. Power.

The attendant in the fancy footwear came to a halt in front of a dark door that looked slightly the worse for wear and knocked on the dark tree.

“The guest, milord,” he announced, and I realized that either the material of the door was thinner than I’d thought or they’d installed some magical device that allowed sound to carry through.

“Let him in,” a voice from inside the room instructed, then, when the boy had carried out the order, added, “Dismissed.”

I entered the study, closing the door behind me with a thought. A grey-bearded, desperately overweight man sat on the other side of a desk, dressed in what appeared to be a several sizes too small military uniform. The bowl of candied plums that was the only item present on his desk gave a hint as to why the clothes no longer fit around his expanding body.

It’s always so nice and reassuring to find a fat man ruling a starving population.

He rose with more grace than I would have anticipated and offered me a tentative bow that I didn’t reciprocate. This seemed to annoy him somewhat, though he was too wary to slump down into the waiting chair. I nodded nonchalantly towards it, indicating that he might by all means be seated. Cheeks flushed, he defiantly remained standing until I had sat down myself – in thin air forming around me to a comfortable chair, since none of the other pieces of furniture looked usable.

“My lord mage,” my host said, keeping his gaze humbly on the floor. “How may I assist you?”

“You are the ruler of Jigatso?” I asked, and, at his nod, continued, “It would please me to see you utilize that authority a bit more efficiently before I ask anything more of you.” Images from the outskirts of the town flashed before my mind’s eye; a beggar-girl who couldn’t be older than three with arms so thin I’d feared they’d break under the weight of whatever small gifts she might receive; a boy of perhaps five fighting with the dogs for whatever he could find in the trash-piles; a girl my age getting on her back behind some bushes for just barely enough money to cover a half-way decent meal.

“My lord…?” he asked, obviously trying for my name in order to decide just how brown his nose was going to have to get.

Ignoring that implied question in favor of another, I replied, “I seem to recall that certain responsibilities come with the privileges of titles such as yours. The people under your care are starving to death, and you sit here like a fat self-righteous pig! How the hell can you live with yourself? What sort of idiot does it take not to profit from the curiosity over Grålanden?”

As the words left my mouth in an increasingly agitated stream, I suddenly started to suspect that he really was daft – to ignore the suffering of his subjects was one thing, likely cast by selfishness more than stupidity, but from what I’d seen of his manse he hadn’t even managed to enrich himself.

“Perhaps you are not aware… King Endymion-sama has forbidden all traffic over the border until further notice. There are guards and mages to prevent trespassing.”

All right, so maybe I should have checked that before accusing him (or coming here) but, as I told him, “That’s still no excuse. If this situation is not remedied I will have to talk to Relisiana-joo about finding you a replacement.”

A bit pathetic, perhaps, for a King of Heaven to threaten to spill for the queen, but this just wasn’t something I could readily handle, not constructively. I had to wonder, though, why the clown in front of me was still in charge here after Kunzite-sama’s visit. Perhaps he too had felt it best to leave the issue to Relisiana.

“However,” I continued before he could interrupt, “my primary reason for coming here was and remains Kunzite-tennousama. I require all information you have on the subject. Now.”

“But, but…my lord…” Swelling droplets of perspiration were gathering on his brow. “His lordship told me, and in no uncertain terms, that I was not to give such tidings away lightly.”

I gave him a chilly smile. “Oh, I expect he will be happy to see a fellow Tennou.”

After that, his only concern appeared to be fear that he wouldn’t have time to tell me everything before I fried him to a crisp. Unfortunately, “everything” was far less than I had anticipated. Basically, all he knew was already familiar too me.

Having no desire to stay in these disgusting surroundings, I politely said my good-byes (read: reminded him again that he was utterly replaceable and had no chance to get a new position, should I remain cranky at him) and without further ado, I teleported to the border.

The line between the two realities was obscured – or, perhaps, signified – by a wall of compact, smoke-grey mist. I bit my lip, giving it a wary stare. There was something profoundly disturbing about the fog, though, annoyingly, I was at a loss to pinpoint the exact source of my discomfort. The biting of my lip changed character, from being an expression of uncertainty to become a sign of decisiveness.

As the mayor had said, there were indeed a number of bored-verging-on-scared-looking soldiers and a few low-powered mages patrolling the border, but seeing as they were unlikely to be in possession of any additional information I might be interested in, I neglected to contact them.

A Tennou is not seen when he does not wish to be. And so I nodded to myself once and walked through the mist.

I fell to my knees as fast as I emerged on the other end of it, concentrating fiercely on not passing out. Blessed Selene, I was weak. The simple exercise of breathing left me with all the strength of a newborn kitten, and the world was swinging lazily back and forth in front of my bleary, half-closed eyes.

Almost weeping with effort, I forced my mind to awareness, my eyelids to stay up, as I scanned my surroundings for enemies. Not that I’d be able to do much against them in this condition, but at least if there was someone doing this to me I had something tangible to fight against, a way to retrieve my powers.

As I should but hadn’t wanted to know, there was no one there.

I’d heard the rumors that magic didn’t work in Grålanden. I’d dismissed them as foolery, certain that at least Tennou-magic with its divine overtones could not be quenched like this. But it was, and my body was collapsing without it. I had only a fleeting second to be grateful that I was on the verge of passing out, would faint before the majority of the pain could hit me – before I had to realize that I might just be dying here on the foreign cold-damp soil of a realm as crippled as was I.

* * * * * * * *

Rei
Hugging my legs to my chest, cradling them to me like a baby, I stared out through the window, thus hoping to avoid attention.

That would likely have been easier if I’d been able to stop crying.

Much as I tried to calm them, shudders wracked my body, making tense muscles tremble; between shushed sobs I panted for breath, and tears poured down my face, some falling freely, others dripping from my chin or tickling down my throat.

I was still in the seeraafuku, for a number of reasons. Had anyone asked whom I could not tell off, I would probably have said that in present circumstances I lacked the energy to change. Possibly, I could have replied to the effect that the matter over which I was crying was one I had better face as Sailormars, lest I would break. Only to my mother, dead since twelve years, could I have said that I remained in the fuku because, irrational and perverse as it might seem, it felt like his tears were still wet and fresh in the skirt. Just like the bruise on my face, from where he’d struck me, still hurt though it had already been healed, erased by magic as though it had never been.

The only marks that were still discernable were the small injuries hidden beneath the fabric of my clothing, the dust from the arena that persistently clung to my hair and a rip in the skirt that would have disappeared as completely as the bruise the next time I transformed. None of that felt half so real as the long-dry tears that I fancied had scorched their way down my thighs, leaving white-hot scars.

He was right, I admitted to myself, almost choking on the ever-increasing sobs. I could – perhaps I should – have been happy with him. I’ll never be it without him.

Oh, I supposed than when the immediate heartache wore off, I’d be able to achieve a semblance of joy, a sort of weak, drained gladness. The grim satisfaction of successfully performing one’s duty. The hollow pleasure of love-less sex. The happiness of being with friends that would always be compared to and always lose to what I’d used to have, what I’d taken for so granted that I threw it away.

Oh gods, what did I do?

My survival instinct joined forces with my sense of duty and my rationality and hunted the stray thought down, strangled it and decapitated it and buried it deeply. I was Sailormars, plain and simple. There really was no great difference from before; it was just that the back door had suddenly been slammed shut. I told myself that it was a cowardly exit that I would never have wanted to use in either case, but right now, I just couldn’t keep faith in those words.

I loved him. I still did. How can that be wrong?

Probably because it’s not. Oh, there were duty and sacrifice and the princess, but for just a little while, now that it was too late to change the decisions I’d made so long ago, I allowed myself to disregard all of that, to simply mourn that my Prince Charming had ridden off on his white horse without me.

I stopped crying at length, more due to exhaustion and having run out of tears than anything else. I felt cold and hard and full of dread.

Neither that nor my position had changed when I first perceived the approaching person. People, actually, though only one of them was presently human.

“Rei,” they said, both at once, Luna’s voice high-pitched and mewling, Queen Serenity’s ringing with an almost enforced quality of wisdom and beauty.

Studying their fuzzy reflections in the window which the falling darkness had turned an inadequate mirror, I felt suddenly like a whore, a tramp discovered naked in the arms of her lover by her lawful husband. Beside the impossibly white gown of the queen and her chastely silvery hair and endless blue eyes, my seeraafuku seemed the garment of a filthy prostitute, my cheeks burning as though rather than his tears it was my lover’s seed that had wet my cunt and trickled down my thighs.

Sighing, not wanting them to see my red-eyed, salt-streaked face, I lifted the wand and detransformed. I ended up in a comfortable violet kimono almost exactly like the one Jadeite had created for me. That piece of clothing I had burned.

“Queen Serenity-sama, Luna-sensei,” I said, my voice empty, my face clean and fresh the way the transition to or from Sailormars made it. Completely expressionless. Rising from the windowsill I had been perched on, I neglected to meet the eyes of the Silver Queen before bowing my torso almost vertically.

Luna made a soft, startled and thoroughly incomprehensible sound as the queen’s fingers gently but firmly clasped my chin and inexorably pulled my head up.

“Be seated, child,” she said, her tone as unreadable to me as her always-calm, always-likable face.

“Yes, my Queen.” My body, the previous moment pulsing with an almost painful rush of adrenaline, felt weak and feverish, lost to my will, as it collapsed back onto the windowsill I had so recently evacuated.

Her face still like a mask of marble, the way it always was to me, the Queen Serenity made a small gesture, and a chair flew from the far end of the room to stand behind her. She seated herself gracefully, looking effortlessly regal even without the Moon Stick and the ginzuishou that I chided myself for only now realizing weren’t there. Luna assumed a very cat-ly position at the royal woman’s feet, red-golden gaze boring into my slippers.

Lifting my spirits immeasurably, were the twin blackbirds emerging from behind the queen. I had to wonder why they had stayed hidden so long, but what truly mattered was their familiar weight on my shoulders. Regaining my arrogance at last, I reached up and stroked a raven-colored wing, just the way I knew Deimos appreciated the most. Phobos gave a throaty cackle that I had learned to interpret as a sign of jealousy and flapped down into my lap. Sharp claws needled through the kimono, but I had long since ceased to pay that kind of pain any mind. I’d had small, small circular white scars on my arms and shoulders and legs since before I could remember.

Luna’s face sort of froze over, which looked decidedly odd given that that is hardly within the normal spectrum of cat behaviors. It always did when she was forced to notice either of the ravens, which, given that they had once been her friends, was less than surprising. Regardless of her feelings, though, they were my friends now, and selfish as that may be I was not ready to part with them in order to spare Luna’s emotions. Not when for so many years through my childhood they had been not only my best but my only true friends.

“About the Jadeite incident,” the queen said at length, the almost unnoticeable hesitation which preceded her words reminding me of the running, wide-eyed woman who’d held the pristinely white skirt up to her knees. I’d been too focused at the time on Jadeite and myself to pay her any mind, and so my memory contained only a single, blurry snapshot of the Silver Queen in anything less than regal circumstances. Luna had been there too, and then Nephrite had come and picked his unconscious comrade up.

Foolishly, my first, instinctive reaction had been to try and stop him, to not have Jadeite pried from me at any cost. Unfortunately or otherwise, Nephrite was much too strong for me even without his magic.

It was not I who took advantage of the queen’s momentarily silence, but rather Luna, who stated in a harsh, accusing tone, “You lied in the maid ceremony.”

By omission I had, but she was hardly one to talk, not in the matter of lovers. “I did no such thing,” I therefore haughtily announced. “You asked me whether I had a maidenhead, which you’ve encertained yourself that I do.” Then, tiredly, when the short flame of my temper had burned down, “Anyway, does that really matter now?”

“No,” the queen admitted, reducing Luna’s no doubt spitting reply to a dark look. “Whilst I understand that the two of you have a past, what I ask is what he wanted here today?”

“Why, me of course,” I replied, my tone so light it jarred. “He was even willing to stay here. You could have had a tame Tennou by now.”

Blinking back new tears, I took grim satisfaction in their simultaneous gasp.

“Masaka,” Queen Serenity whispered, slipping into the Old Tongue as she was wont to do when exclaiming.

“Oh yes,” I said, softly and viciously and so very tired. “He would gladly have died for me, and thus, by extension, for you. You could have had him beg to swear you fealty and absolute loyalty.”

“Nandeska?” the queen emitted. “Dewa, Luna…”

“Iie, Serenity-sama,” the cat replied. “It’s not possible to reverse the spell you cast on him. Perchance, if your Majesty were to use another one, to awaken the feelings anew…”

The Silver Queen gave a minute shake of her head. “No,” she said decisively. “I misspoke. You know as well as I do that the magic of the Tennou is enough of an entity to evolve. My spell worked this time only because he had no previous experience of the ginzuishou. By now, his aura will have developed a defense against it that could only be breached by silver crystal power the strength of which would likely kill him.

And after all, this spell would not have been half so successful had his magic not aided mine; likely he wanted nothing but to be rid of the source of his pain. I highly doubt he’d be longing enough to have it back for his powers to cooperate with mine in order to make it so.”

The words the source of his pain cut deeper than I would have expected.

“Now then, Luna, I believe it is time for us to depart,” the queen announced, rising to tower over me. “I see no need for further mention of this matter.”

Perhaps I should have been grateful. Then again, I was Sailormars, in strength and diplomatical significance far outclassing any other. And of course, first and foremost, I loved the princess. Much as I hated her for it, she was the light around which my dark destiny revolved.

* * * * * * * *

Gesisai
The pensile danced swiftly over the parchment, leaving numbers and curt sentences behind. I dipped my writing tool once more in the elaborately lacquered pot of ink; it was cheap stuff, draining out of the pensile after no more than a few kanji, but I hadn’t been rich so long as to waste the finer colors on my private calculations. True, I now owned a more than wealthy teahouse that was prospering nicely, well situated and well renown, though it did not (yet) attract the very highest layer of society, but that had not always been the case. Before managing to get my hands on this business, I’d been nothing but a lowly merchant’s daughter and learned the heard way not to let things go to waste. It still pained me somewhat that an establishment of this class could not serve leftovers. The servants ate it, so it was not a complete waste, but I’d never willingly have offered mere servants delicacies. All in all, my teahouse was prospering nicely, though it did not (yet) attract the very highest layer of society.

For the first time, that particular thought did not bring forth a determined frown, but rather a satisfied smile. Because, just a few hours ago, I had purchased a subject that might very well render my geisha house all the fame and riches I could imagine.

I’d been monitoring the dressing of two new employees when the ‘urgent visitors’ arrived. Annoyed, I’d gone to meet them; blissful, I’d made my good-byes.

Fortunately, I had some connections, friends even, in the military – acquaintances that knew to bring poor young beauties to me and get well paid for their trouble. Today’s catch had been something extraordinary.

Apparently, the small patrol had been surprised to find the young boy lying unconscious on the ground at pass two miles out of town, but ha picked him up and brought him straight to me.

Putting my calculations and pensile away, I allowed myself the pleasure of inspecting him again. He was sleeping quite peacefully now, tucked down in the futon, copper-golden locks spilling over the pillow. I’d confirmed through touch that that hair was just as silky as it looked to be, the pearl-pale skin just as smooth as it seemed. He was perfect. Strangely colored, but perfectly, absolutely beautiful, just the sort of wiry, delicate beauty one sought in a bishounen.

Of course, it was remotely possible that he was a situated person that I would have to release, but the possibility was small. After all, who but a desperate refugee would be found fainted on the ground, alone and weirdly dressed, carrying nothing with him – no money, no papers, no change of clothing.

No, he would be mine. I licked my lips expectantly. The only worry was his deep unconsciousness, the cause of which I could only wonder at since there were no marks on him of either starvation or violence, but his lashes had been fluttering every now and then for the last hour, so I was confident that he would wake up. And if he was a bit fuddled, or without his memory – why all the easier to teach him the arts and rules of my establishment.

Yes, he would be mine. I let my gaze travel over his body, imagining almost hungrily the heat with which they would look at him, letting desire-glazed eyes linger over long legs and slender hips and frail torso. First the very highest of my regular customers, then the ones whom they brought word to; generals, administrators, lords.

At first glance I’d assumed he was a girl, and I’d been a tad disappointed upon finding out I’d been wrong, but perhaps it was best that was. Not needing to fear inconvenient pregnancies, one could bestow a great many more lovers upon a boy than one could allow a girl.

I’d paid thirty gin for him, had smiled grimly as the stares from the sellers turned from incredulity to greed. I was usually enough of a cheapskate to argue with them until the prize was under fifteen gin. Once, for a girl with the rare red hair that some adored so ardently, I’d given out twenty, but that was the only time. And now, after barely trying to lower it at all, I’d accepted a cost of thirty gin. Actually, if they’d been better salesmen, they might even have pressed me for a little more.

He was going to be worth it.