Hey people, well here's the revised version of "the last galaxy knight" I
hope u enjoy it...thanks so much for your support! Oh and sailor moon does
not belong to me!
***********************
Do not ever concern yourself with the ones who burst in outrage at a decision that is inconvenient to them. Instead watch with a close eye those who do not utter a word, who like vampires hide in the shadows. They carry far more passion in their silence.
From the diary of King Aura II emperor of the moon.
***********************
Destiny.
Just writing the word seems cliché.
I never did like the word. It seems too simple for a concept that can evoke extraordinary amounts of happiness, or pain.
Then again the most complicated things in life are always seemingly the most simple.
Love, lust, hate, passion...
With passion comes anger...
With anger the primitive desires, to hunt...to kill.
All history is merely a story about hunters and their prey. That is why history is never kind to women.
We are either drowned in controversy, portrayed as whores and slaves to our own lust. Or we are hailed as legendary virgins, pure and angelic...
Those who do not fit into either of these categories are simply forgotten. Cast aside, for their powers too revolutionary and their vision too far beyond their own time, too utterly human to be accepted by society...
I am one of those women. Both the hunter and the hunted.
This is my story.
Judge me as you will, hail me as a hero or condemn me as a strumpet. It is of little consequence.
The answer is what you seek; yet first you must find the question.
Before we begin, remember this:
I love you,
And I wish you were here, in my arms...
So it has been said and so the story begins....
Serenity. ***********************
Her head was resting on his lap, causing a mass of silken ringlets to fall to his knees. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the voice of her father reading. In those few moments she was utterly content, and there was no ill in the world.
"You are a patient listener child, but I must talk to you on a subject which I have been avoiding all night. I'm sure you are aware of the nature of what I intend to discuss." His voice was soft; it had lost its fatherly tone long ago and now only carried the hint of friendship.
"Papa, must we ruin this time by talking of such trivial matters?" Serenity replied, her lips taking the shape of a pout. A smile began to dance on her father's lips. It was remarkable how similar they were and yet how they remained so different.
"The conviction of your mother would imply otherwise."
Serenity stood up. She did not hold herself as one of a mere fourteen years but rather as a miniature woman.
"God forbid that a woman should show the smallest desire to use her mind and body in any other way then the 'gentle arts'. My mother for one would lie down and call for her smelling salts." Her tone was harsh and her father stared into her eyes with a mixed sense of awe, amusement and fear. Those eyes held wisdom far beyond her years.
" My dear, practicing the art of sword fighting is no mere breach." It was taking all his self-control to maintain a serious tone.
"You do not believe it to be wrong father...you cannot." Her father nodded solemnly
"Indeed you are right child." And with that he resumed his reading.
******************************
"I hate her!" I cried with as much fury as I could possibly muster.
"Serenity, you don't mean that. She is your mother." It was Amy's voice that had replied. She was the calm, calculated one of the group and had also inherited the enigmatic nature of her planet Mercury.
"Why not? She obviously dislikes me!" I replied harshly, and immediately regretted my tone as I saw Amy flinch, yet I could not bring myself to apologise. Apologising was not one of the developed aspects of my personality. I let my gaze fall onto Rei. We could barely speak two words to each other without bickering, yet behind all that she knew me best of all. Perhaps because in many ways we were so alike. I knew she could see through the façade that I was presenting at this very moment. As if reading my thoughts she looked up and gave me a reassuring smile.
"Serenity, none of us are saying that the Queen doesn't treat Damien with, a little more favour, but she does love you, otherwise she wouldn't be so harsh on you." Mina's voice like her appearance had a sort of sweet resonance to it. Our features were similar in many ways, yet were mine were pronounced hers were soft. She always possessed a sense of optimism that I have always lacked. Especially in regards to my mother.
At that moment Lita opened the door. Because of our intimate relationship none of the girls ever needed to knock before entering my bedroom. All our faces lit up as we saw at a plate of muffins in her hands.
"I knew that after the Queen told you that you had to repeat all the etiquette classes of the year after that scandalous performance with a sword, you'd be upset so I bought some muffins to cheer you up." We all burst out laughing as Lita did an impression of the Queen; the only part of her speech that lacked sarcasm was the very last line. She was very protective of all of us, and disliked the Queen simply because she caused me pain. Where Rei could tear a person to shreds simply with her tongue, Lita could beat a man twice her size in a fight.
The minute the muffins were on the floor we all lunged at them.
"Hey save some for the rest of us!" Rei teased.
"Like you can talk pyro!" As Rei was the Princess of Mars she naturally had a fascination of fire. Thus the nickname.
"At least I eat like a lady." Rei purred and pulled herself into a regal pose.
So I threw a pillow at her.
The others simply rolled their eyes at our antics and did the only thing they knew that could make us stop. They started to tickle us. We spent the rest of the day on the border of hysterics and anger, (mostly in hysterics). We gossiped about the court, about the future, and of course about the one thing of the greatest importance. Boys.
I don't think I remember a time after that where I laughed with my friends so easily.
*******************
"You do realise that this will only provoke her." Damien said in-between heated whispers as we clashed swords.
"Oh, that only provides me with more motivation." The sly comment caused Damien to smile and thus loose his concentration for an instant. An instant was all that I needed, I moved my sword in the shape of a half crescent moon effectively pulling the sword out of Damien's hand. An odd smile crossed his lips. Arousing my curiosity easily, oh I knew that he was setting me up for something yet I could not resist.
"And what do we find so amusing?"
"Merely, that using the crescent moon technique is the only proper way for you to win a sword match." He knew that he was pushing my buttons, experience told him which buttons to push for the reaction he wanted, after all he had just been beaten in sword fighting by his little sister and his pride was in need of some revenge. For a few long moments I merely glared at him sensing what he was implying.
"And how, pray tell me, would using any order technique be improper." I let the last word roll off my tongue in a way that clearly showed my disdain for the word.
"Well, if you were to go body to body, then I would be forced to intervene."
"Oh really?" My tone was one of pure sarcasm.
"Indeed the man would have a opportunity to kiss you. I could not allow that." He tried to maintain a serious tone; it was a great feat of self- control. He saw a spark the mischief that flashed through my eyes.
"Then I shall have to make sure that I only practice my sword skills with the most handsome of men." This was too much for him, the regal posture, and mocking tone caused him to be overpowered by the laughter bubbling inside him.
"You are impossible you do realise that."
"oh I am, and you love me for it."
"indeed I do."
"Now speaking of stolen kisses what is this I hear about you and the countess." The blush that spread across his face was priceless and he quickly changed the subject. Yet within half an hour he had confessed that he was utterly in love with the woman. (From past experience I knew that this love like all the rest would last no longer than a few weeks.) That was the way it was with us. We could talk about anything even though I was two years his junior, and I held no resentment against him for the plain favour my mother bestowed on him in return he did not resent me for being the favourite with our father. We were the closest of friends. Nothing terrified me more than almost loosing that friendship.
*********************
I quietly paced in my father's study while still listening to his soothing voice. For some reason my instincts were telling me that something was wrong. It was of course unrelated to her mothers reprimand. But something else. Something far more substantial.
"You are uneasy." My father's words cut into my thoughts. He was holding a glass of red wine in his hand. In an instant the wine glass slipped out of his hand, the glass shattering on the marble floor.
Red wine spilled on the white marble.
A chill went through my spine.
"Do you not have a feeling that someone is watching us?" The words made my father narrow his eyes slightly. He called for the guards yet there was no reply. He slowly stood up, his eyes glittering like a cat in search of prey.
"Stay close." The words came as a low whisper yet his tone was that of a command. He took my hand and slowly walked towards the door. Calmly he took the gold handle with his long fingers and set the door ajar slightly. Outside the door lay our guard. The blood stains on his shirt exposing were the dagger had struck. His eyes were still staring into the unknown with pure fear.
I wanted to scream. Fear was bubbling within my being choking me with its cold fingers. Yet my training prevented me from suffocating. My fathers grip tightened on my hand. His other hand was griping his sword, his breathing slow. We slowly returned to my father's study, I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from crying out.
No monster had killed our guard. There was no demon from hell. Before us stood a single man.
He was taller than my father, a feat few men achieved. His clothes were black velvet embroidered with intricate silver designs, he wore a long tunic, and firm-fitting pants completed with long knee high boots. The clothes clung to him like a second skin showing off his broad shoulders and slim waist. A matching mask covered his mouth and lower jaw. All that was left exposed was his eyes and a trace of silver hair.
He carried no weapons. Only fools did not carry weapons, there were very few who did not need them. I could feel my father pushing me gently behind him, his eyes never leaving the intruders. As he did this four other men stepped out of the shadows, all dressed in the same dark velvet as their leader.
Yes, their leader.
It was plain that the first man was the leader. It was clear not only by his superior height but his air, the way he was standing there looking into the eyes of my father, the eyes of the Emperor of the Moon and not faltering.
I was trembling. I know not if it was from fear, confusion, or an unspeakable anger.
"What is it that you want?" My father's voice cut through the air.
"Why nothing more than an audience with the King of the Moon." His voice lacked the rough, barbaric quality I had expected. He gave my father a half bow, clearly intending offence, attempting to gain a reaction from my father.
He succeeded.
"You dare mock me peasant?" My father yelled.
The intruder stepped forward, his boots thumping as they made contact with the marble floor.
Thump. Thump.
His movements had the grace of a fox. Slow and steady, every step seeming to have an unknown, ominous purpose.
I stared at him, fury had taken over and I glared at him with cold hatred. I was too young to understand I should fear him.
I could feel my father adjusting his already near perfect posture. Then the intruder spoke.
"No, good sir, the question is, do you dare mock me?" His voice was like red wine, rich and assured. The words were delivered with a plain indifference. Yet the underlying threat was clear.
If I had not been overwhelmed by fear and anger I may have realised that my father seemed to know this intruder. If I had not been blinded by adolescent pride I would have known to fear his composure. His calm self- confident nature which had been untouched by the anger I knew he was emersed in.
How I knew he was angry, I know not.
What happened next was something that I would have never expected.
My father, in a moment of blind hate drew his sword and ran towards the intruder. The intruder moved with a speed that was inhuman. Before I had a chance to react I could feel cold hard arms around my waist, holding me away from my father.
I screamed, kicked and yelled. Yet it was of no use.
All I could do was watch.
The other three men attempted to help their leader yet he signalled for them not too.
They circled each other. The hunter and the hunted.
My father lunged and the intruder ducked. His speed was unnerving. Within the blink of an eye the intruder had knocked the sword out of my fathers hand. Then he took my father's sword and with one swift movement drove it into his heart.
Red blood on white marble.
Destiny.
I screamed, a scream that left my body shaking with its sheer force. I broke out of my captors grip with strength I did not know I possessed. I lunged at the intruder. He blocked the clumsy attack easily.
For the first time I saw his eyes.
They were the colour of ice.
My grief had clouded my judgment, for I failed to notice the regret in his eyes.
"Soon." The same wine like voice.
I never knew real hate till that day.
"One day I will kill you." My voice lacked emotion; it mirrored the voice of the intruder only moments before in its indifference. Even though I uttered them staring into the murderer's eyes I failed to see the worry that sparkled in his eyes as a result of my words.
I closed my eyes, trying to regain my composure.
When I opened them the intruders were gone.
I glanced around and spotted the book that my father had been reading. It sat on the desk, undisturbed.
Macbeth.
I slowly read the first line of the page.
"Who can be wise, amazed, temp'rate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? -No man."
And my world shattered.
**************************
No words can ever describe how I felt in those moments.
My father had been my sun. He gave me life, hope and a desire to become the best that I could be.
The sun would never rise again. My world had become shaded in eternal night.
In those moments anger and fear ran through my blood while being at their peak. They severed my insides like grounded glass in coffee. Slowly killing me from the inside out, causing more damage with every passing moment. I was once again powerless to stop it from taking place. I surrendered to the pain, the anger and was ever so slowly overpowered by it.
I died that night.
While lying in the arms of my father slowly begging, pleading, screaming to God to bring him back to me. Yet in reply I was given a greater gathering of blue on my father's features. The cold marble floor slowly drained the heat from my body as watching my father's death had drained the life from my soul.
Many people who have known me would say that I would never be one to take my own life. That I was too stubborn, that my courage was too great.
I had no courage that night.
Not even the burning desire for revenge could quench the pain.
I took my fathers sword. After all dieing with the same sword as my father would create perfect poetic justice.
In the end it was Damien who stopped me.
He was the one who took the sword out of my grip, who held me as I yelled and beat against his chest urging him to let me go. Only after my screams had died down to weak sobs did he notice the wine intermingling with the blood.
Illusion and reality.
Soon afterwards guards pooled into the study, horror plain on their faces, they tried asking questions yet Damien wouldn't hear of it.
He carried me to my room and held me in his arms as I drifted to an uneasy sleep.
Not even he knew how to mend my broken soul. How to mould together the millions of pieces that I had shattered into.
It would be years before a man would walk into my life that did.
It would also be years before I would find out that while I was absent the Queen had visited my father.
Before I would be told that she had dismissed all the guards from the room, that a cruel smile of satisfaction played across her lips when she was protected by solitude, or that she kissed the blue lips of my father.
Most of all I wish I had never been made aware of the words that she whispered into his ear.
"Revenge is sweet indeed my dear...soon it shall be complete."
************************
The next day the palace guards questioned me about what had happened. I told them everything, in minute detail. Naturally Damien was at my side the entire time. The guards nodded in sympathy, and gave Damien and I their deepest condolences.
He left after that, he had heard my silent plea for solitude.
I would have that solitude for the next three days.
************************
I had not moved an inch from my bed, and was startled when there was a knock on the door.
My temper was palace legend. It would be a brave soul indeed that had dared disturb my solitude and risked bearing the brunt of my wrath.
As the door opened a quivering young page entered clumsily.
"What is it that you want?" I growled as I narrowed my eyes, inspecting his dirty blonde hair and ill-fitting tunic.
"Y-Y-You have been summoned to the throne room my lady."
"You shall address the princess as her Majesty." My voice was cold, hard. I had never before enforced etiquette on anyone, yet at that moment it seemed justified.
"My a-apolo.."
"I'll be down in fifteen minutes." I cut him off, my patience non- existent. I watched with flaming eyes as the page bowed and ran out of the room. A smile spread across my face to think that he was at least 2 years older than I.
*******************
I had not combed my hair nor made any effort to make myself 'presentable'.
Why would I?
I was announced as I always was yet when I entered silence ran through the room. All eyes had become fixed on me. I will admit that I was more than a little surprised to see the entire court assembled.
All my instincts were on edge, knowing very well that something was very wrong.
As I looked at the Queen I felt my blood boil. She had already removed my father's throne. She did not even have the decency to wear black but was wrapped in white silk.
And I was the inappropriate one.
As I walked down the throne room with my eyes fixed on the Queen one of the members of court lost the grip on their wine glass.
Red liquid spilled on white marble.
I watched as the liquid spread slowly. I was shaking, trembling, lacking any form of composure. My own fear made me deaf to the profuse apologies of the guest and the scampering of the servants as they cleaned the mess.
I closed my eyes for a moment and regained my composure. I continued my journey towards the Queen and with every step I could feel the ever-present eyes of the court. Some held sympathy. Others were riddled with dangerous malice.
When I had completed half of my journey the Queen rose, the white silk of her dress clinging to every curve, her breasts almost spilling out of the low cut of the gown. Her silver hair danced around her and shone with as much magnificence as the crown upon her head.
She was the mirror image of me.
I stared at her with cold fury. How dare she disrespect my father in such a manner!
"Now that the entire court is assembled I believe I am in a position to address the murder of King Aura II. Indeed this has been a tragedy that has caused a grievous amount of pain to all who are present here. Yet the pain of loosing such a worthy leader is nothing to the traitor that committed the abominable act. Not only going against law, but nature itself! A traitor who is present among us today!" Her voice demanded attention as it rang clearly around the hall. Her last words created uproar from the crowd, with many yelling threats and drawing swords. Even Damien had a look of fury painted across his features his hand griping the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white, his eyes darkened with anger.
I narrowed my eyes and arched a brow.
Nothing could have ever prepared me from what was to come.
"Princess Aurora Serenity, I hereby charge you with high treason and murder of King Aura II. Such a crime can only be punished in one way and that is through death. You shall be executed 2 days hence at twelve noon."
I merely stared at her.
Numb.
Yet, I shall never be able to explain why a part of me was relived even though it was a very small part.
The rest of me was burning from the force of my anger.
Many voices had yelled out their outrage, the court in uproar.
"This is absurd." Damien's voice sliced through the room like a hot knife through butter. His emerald eyes were ablaze staring at the queen in cold hatred.
"No." It was the only coherent thought that I had managed to say aloud. I had known long before this day of the nature of the Queen's feelings for me. I also knew that if Damien or anyone else challenged her they would most likely share my fate. I would never let that happen to Damien or anyone else I held dear.
Never.
Damien slowly walked towards me, his golden hair flying around him, his royal blue tunic accentuating his broad shoulders, his sword gleaming from his slim hips. I watched him, carefully memorising the way he was pressing his lips together in frustration. The way his eyes resembled so closely our father's. I closed my eyes not wanting to accept that this was the last time I was to see him, yet not having the strength to fight.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them gently. I shall never forget the pain present in his eyes. He slowly brought his lips to my ear.
"I cannot loose you too." His voice was shallower than a whisper and on the verge of breaking. My heart shattered a thousand times as I heard him. "If he was here he'd kill her for trying to hurt you, he'd want you to fight. I need you to fight." The mention of our father released another assault of anger through my veins. Anger that was directed towards my father. I realised then that no limitation was set in concrete, that I could create my own boundaries and break them as I saw fit.
"But he left." I saw the look of worry that flashed through his eyes. I could feel the sheer longing.
"But I have not. You must fight Serenity. Promise me." He shook me gently trying to drum his words into me, his tone exposing his increasing desperate need to get through to me. When I did not answer his grip tightened even more. "Promise." This time his voice was not gentle but a command. I looked up at him slowly and nodded.
"I promise." As those words left my mouth strong arms wrapped around me again and ripped me from the arms of my beloved brother. I gave in to the darkness before I could hear my brother's screams of protest.
***********************
Do not ever concern yourself with the ones who burst in outrage at a decision that is inconvenient to them. Instead watch with a close eye those who do not utter a word, who like vampires hide in the shadows. They carry far more passion in their silence.
From the diary of King Aura II emperor of the moon.
***********************
Destiny.
Just writing the word seems cliché.
I never did like the word. It seems too simple for a concept that can evoke extraordinary amounts of happiness, or pain.
Then again the most complicated things in life are always seemingly the most simple.
Love, lust, hate, passion...
With passion comes anger...
With anger the primitive desires, to hunt...to kill.
All history is merely a story about hunters and their prey. That is why history is never kind to women.
We are either drowned in controversy, portrayed as whores and slaves to our own lust. Or we are hailed as legendary virgins, pure and angelic...
Those who do not fit into either of these categories are simply forgotten. Cast aside, for their powers too revolutionary and their vision too far beyond their own time, too utterly human to be accepted by society...
I am one of those women. Both the hunter and the hunted.
This is my story.
Judge me as you will, hail me as a hero or condemn me as a strumpet. It is of little consequence.
The answer is what you seek; yet first you must find the question.
Before we begin, remember this:
I love you,
And I wish you were here, in my arms...
So it has been said and so the story begins....
Serenity. ***********************
Her head was resting on his lap, causing a mass of silken ringlets to fall to his knees. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the voice of her father reading. In those few moments she was utterly content, and there was no ill in the world.
"You are a patient listener child, but I must talk to you on a subject which I have been avoiding all night. I'm sure you are aware of the nature of what I intend to discuss." His voice was soft; it had lost its fatherly tone long ago and now only carried the hint of friendship.
"Papa, must we ruin this time by talking of such trivial matters?" Serenity replied, her lips taking the shape of a pout. A smile began to dance on her father's lips. It was remarkable how similar they were and yet how they remained so different.
"The conviction of your mother would imply otherwise."
Serenity stood up. She did not hold herself as one of a mere fourteen years but rather as a miniature woman.
"God forbid that a woman should show the smallest desire to use her mind and body in any other way then the 'gentle arts'. My mother for one would lie down and call for her smelling salts." Her tone was harsh and her father stared into her eyes with a mixed sense of awe, amusement and fear. Those eyes held wisdom far beyond her years.
" My dear, practicing the art of sword fighting is no mere breach." It was taking all his self-control to maintain a serious tone.
"You do not believe it to be wrong father...you cannot." Her father nodded solemnly
"Indeed you are right child." And with that he resumed his reading.
******************************
"I hate her!" I cried with as much fury as I could possibly muster.
"Serenity, you don't mean that. She is your mother." It was Amy's voice that had replied. She was the calm, calculated one of the group and had also inherited the enigmatic nature of her planet Mercury.
"Why not? She obviously dislikes me!" I replied harshly, and immediately regretted my tone as I saw Amy flinch, yet I could not bring myself to apologise. Apologising was not one of the developed aspects of my personality. I let my gaze fall onto Rei. We could barely speak two words to each other without bickering, yet behind all that she knew me best of all. Perhaps because in many ways we were so alike. I knew she could see through the façade that I was presenting at this very moment. As if reading my thoughts she looked up and gave me a reassuring smile.
"Serenity, none of us are saying that the Queen doesn't treat Damien with, a little more favour, but she does love you, otherwise she wouldn't be so harsh on you." Mina's voice like her appearance had a sort of sweet resonance to it. Our features were similar in many ways, yet were mine were pronounced hers were soft. She always possessed a sense of optimism that I have always lacked. Especially in regards to my mother.
At that moment Lita opened the door. Because of our intimate relationship none of the girls ever needed to knock before entering my bedroom. All our faces lit up as we saw at a plate of muffins in her hands.
"I knew that after the Queen told you that you had to repeat all the etiquette classes of the year after that scandalous performance with a sword, you'd be upset so I bought some muffins to cheer you up." We all burst out laughing as Lita did an impression of the Queen; the only part of her speech that lacked sarcasm was the very last line. She was very protective of all of us, and disliked the Queen simply because she caused me pain. Where Rei could tear a person to shreds simply with her tongue, Lita could beat a man twice her size in a fight.
The minute the muffins were on the floor we all lunged at them.
"Hey save some for the rest of us!" Rei teased.
"Like you can talk pyro!" As Rei was the Princess of Mars she naturally had a fascination of fire. Thus the nickname.
"At least I eat like a lady." Rei purred and pulled herself into a regal pose.
So I threw a pillow at her.
The others simply rolled their eyes at our antics and did the only thing they knew that could make us stop. They started to tickle us. We spent the rest of the day on the border of hysterics and anger, (mostly in hysterics). We gossiped about the court, about the future, and of course about the one thing of the greatest importance. Boys.
I don't think I remember a time after that where I laughed with my friends so easily.
*******************
"You do realise that this will only provoke her." Damien said in-between heated whispers as we clashed swords.
"Oh, that only provides me with more motivation." The sly comment caused Damien to smile and thus loose his concentration for an instant. An instant was all that I needed, I moved my sword in the shape of a half crescent moon effectively pulling the sword out of Damien's hand. An odd smile crossed his lips. Arousing my curiosity easily, oh I knew that he was setting me up for something yet I could not resist.
"And what do we find so amusing?"
"Merely, that using the crescent moon technique is the only proper way for you to win a sword match." He knew that he was pushing my buttons, experience told him which buttons to push for the reaction he wanted, after all he had just been beaten in sword fighting by his little sister and his pride was in need of some revenge. For a few long moments I merely glared at him sensing what he was implying.
"And how, pray tell me, would using any order technique be improper." I let the last word roll off my tongue in a way that clearly showed my disdain for the word.
"Well, if you were to go body to body, then I would be forced to intervene."
"Oh really?" My tone was one of pure sarcasm.
"Indeed the man would have a opportunity to kiss you. I could not allow that." He tried to maintain a serious tone; it was a great feat of self- control. He saw a spark the mischief that flashed through my eyes.
"Then I shall have to make sure that I only practice my sword skills with the most handsome of men." This was too much for him, the regal posture, and mocking tone caused him to be overpowered by the laughter bubbling inside him.
"You are impossible you do realise that."
"oh I am, and you love me for it."
"indeed I do."
"Now speaking of stolen kisses what is this I hear about you and the countess." The blush that spread across his face was priceless and he quickly changed the subject. Yet within half an hour he had confessed that he was utterly in love with the woman. (From past experience I knew that this love like all the rest would last no longer than a few weeks.) That was the way it was with us. We could talk about anything even though I was two years his junior, and I held no resentment against him for the plain favour my mother bestowed on him in return he did not resent me for being the favourite with our father. We were the closest of friends. Nothing terrified me more than almost loosing that friendship.
*********************
I quietly paced in my father's study while still listening to his soothing voice. For some reason my instincts were telling me that something was wrong. It was of course unrelated to her mothers reprimand. But something else. Something far more substantial.
"You are uneasy." My father's words cut into my thoughts. He was holding a glass of red wine in his hand. In an instant the wine glass slipped out of his hand, the glass shattering on the marble floor.
Red wine spilled on the white marble.
A chill went through my spine.
"Do you not have a feeling that someone is watching us?" The words made my father narrow his eyes slightly. He called for the guards yet there was no reply. He slowly stood up, his eyes glittering like a cat in search of prey.
"Stay close." The words came as a low whisper yet his tone was that of a command. He took my hand and slowly walked towards the door. Calmly he took the gold handle with his long fingers and set the door ajar slightly. Outside the door lay our guard. The blood stains on his shirt exposing were the dagger had struck. His eyes were still staring into the unknown with pure fear.
I wanted to scream. Fear was bubbling within my being choking me with its cold fingers. Yet my training prevented me from suffocating. My fathers grip tightened on my hand. His other hand was griping his sword, his breathing slow. We slowly returned to my father's study, I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from crying out.
No monster had killed our guard. There was no demon from hell. Before us stood a single man.
He was taller than my father, a feat few men achieved. His clothes were black velvet embroidered with intricate silver designs, he wore a long tunic, and firm-fitting pants completed with long knee high boots. The clothes clung to him like a second skin showing off his broad shoulders and slim waist. A matching mask covered his mouth and lower jaw. All that was left exposed was his eyes and a trace of silver hair.
He carried no weapons. Only fools did not carry weapons, there were very few who did not need them. I could feel my father pushing me gently behind him, his eyes never leaving the intruders. As he did this four other men stepped out of the shadows, all dressed in the same dark velvet as their leader.
Yes, their leader.
It was plain that the first man was the leader. It was clear not only by his superior height but his air, the way he was standing there looking into the eyes of my father, the eyes of the Emperor of the Moon and not faltering.
I was trembling. I know not if it was from fear, confusion, or an unspeakable anger.
"What is it that you want?" My father's voice cut through the air.
"Why nothing more than an audience with the King of the Moon." His voice lacked the rough, barbaric quality I had expected. He gave my father a half bow, clearly intending offence, attempting to gain a reaction from my father.
He succeeded.
"You dare mock me peasant?" My father yelled.
The intruder stepped forward, his boots thumping as they made contact with the marble floor.
Thump. Thump.
His movements had the grace of a fox. Slow and steady, every step seeming to have an unknown, ominous purpose.
I stared at him, fury had taken over and I glared at him with cold hatred. I was too young to understand I should fear him.
I could feel my father adjusting his already near perfect posture. Then the intruder spoke.
"No, good sir, the question is, do you dare mock me?" His voice was like red wine, rich and assured. The words were delivered with a plain indifference. Yet the underlying threat was clear.
If I had not been overwhelmed by fear and anger I may have realised that my father seemed to know this intruder. If I had not been blinded by adolescent pride I would have known to fear his composure. His calm self- confident nature which had been untouched by the anger I knew he was emersed in.
How I knew he was angry, I know not.
What happened next was something that I would have never expected.
My father, in a moment of blind hate drew his sword and ran towards the intruder. The intruder moved with a speed that was inhuman. Before I had a chance to react I could feel cold hard arms around my waist, holding me away from my father.
I screamed, kicked and yelled. Yet it was of no use.
All I could do was watch.
The other three men attempted to help their leader yet he signalled for them not too.
They circled each other. The hunter and the hunted.
My father lunged and the intruder ducked. His speed was unnerving. Within the blink of an eye the intruder had knocked the sword out of my fathers hand. Then he took my father's sword and with one swift movement drove it into his heart.
Red blood on white marble.
Destiny.
I screamed, a scream that left my body shaking with its sheer force. I broke out of my captors grip with strength I did not know I possessed. I lunged at the intruder. He blocked the clumsy attack easily.
For the first time I saw his eyes.
They were the colour of ice.
My grief had clouded my judgment, for I failed to notice the regret in his eyes.
"Soon." The same wine like voice.
I never knew real hate till that day.
"One day I will kill you." My voice lacked emotion; it mirrored the voice of the intruder only moments before in its indifference. Even though I uttered them staring into the murderer's eyes I failed to see the worry that sparkled in his eyes as a result of my words.
I closed my eyes, trying to regain my composure.
When I opened them the intruders were gone.
I glanced around and spotted the book that my father had been reading. It sat on the desk, undisturbed.
Macbeth.
I slowly read the first line of the page.
"Who can be wise, amazed, temp'rate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? -No man."
And my world shattered.
**************************
No words can ever describe how I felt in those moments.
My father had been my sun. He gave me life, hope and a desire to become the best that I could be.
The sun would never rise again. My world had become shaded in eternal night.
In those moments anger and fear ran through my blood while being at their peak. They severed my insides like grounded glass in coffee. Slowly killing me from the inside out, causing more damage with every passing moment. I was once again powerless to stop it from taking place. I surrendered to the pain, the anger and was ever so slowly overpowered by it.
I died that night.
While lying in the arms of my father slowly begging, pleading, screaming to God to bring him back to me. Yet in reply I was given a greater gathering of blue on my father's features. The cold marble floor slowly drained the heat from my body as watching my father's death had drained the life from my soul.
Many people who have known me would say that I would never be one to take my own life. That I was too stubborn, that my courage was too great.
I had no courage that night.
Not even the burning desire for revenge could quench the pain.
I took my fathers sword. After all dieing with the same sword as my father would create perfect poetic justice.
In the end it was Damien who stopped me.
He was the one who took the sword out of my grip, who held me as I yelled and beat against his chest urging him to let me go. Only after my screams had died down to weak sobs did he notice the wine intermingling with the blood.
Illusion and reality.
Soon afterwards guards pooled into the study, horror plain on their faces, they tried asking questions yet Damien wouldn't hear of it.
He carried me to my room and held me in his arms as I drifted to an uneasy sleep.
Not even he knew how to mend my broken soul. How to mould together the millions of pieces that I had shattered into.
It would be years before a man would walk into my life that did.
It would also be years before I would find out that while I was absent the Queen had visited my father.
Before I would be told that she had dismissed all the guards from the room, that a cruel smile of satisfaction played across her lips when she was protected by solitude, or that she kissed the blue lips of my father.
Most of all I wish I had never been made aware of the words that she whispered into his ear.
"Revenge is sweet indeed my dear...soon it shall be complete."
************************
The next day the palace guards questioned me about what had happened. I told them everything, in minute detail. Naturally Damien was at my side the entire time. The guards nodded in sympathy, and gave Damien and I their deepest condolences.
He left after that, he had heard my silent plea for solitude.
I would have that solitude for the next three days.
************************
I had not moved an inch from my bed, and was startled when there was a knock on the door.
My temper was palace legend. It would be a brave soul indeed that had dared disturb my solitude and risked bearing the brunt of my wrath.
As the door opened a quivering young page entered clumsily.
"What is it that you want?" I growled as I narrowed my eyes, inspecting his dirty blonde hair and ill-fitting tunic.
"Y-Y-You have been summoned to the throne room my lady."
"You shall address the princess as her Majesty." My voice was cold, hard. I had never before enforced etiquette on anyone, yet at that moment it seemed justified.
"My a-apolo.."
"I'll be down in fifteen minutes." I cut him off, my patience non- existent. I watched with flaming eyes as the page bowed and ran out of the room. A smile spread across my face to think that he was at least 2 years older than I.
*******************
I had not combed my hair nor made any effort to make myself 'presentable'.
Why would I?
I was announced as I always was yet when I entered silence ran through the room. All eyes had become fixed on me. I will admit that I was more than a little surprised to see the entire court assembled.
All my instincts were on edge, knowing very well that something was very wrong.
As I looked at the Queen I felt my blood boil. She had already removed my father's throne. She did not even have the decency to wear black but was wrapped in white silk.
And I was the inappropriate one.
As I walked down the throne room with my eyes fixed on the Queen one of the members of court lost the grip on their wine glass.
Red liquid spilled on white marble.
I watched as the liquid spread slowly. I was shaking, trembling, lacking any form of composure. My own fear made me deaf to the profuse apologies of the guest and the scampering of the servants as they cleaned the mess.
I closed my eyes for a moment and regained my composure. I continued my journey towards the Queen and with every step I could feel the ever-present eyes of the court. Some held sympathy. Others were riddled with dangerous malice.
When I had completed half of my journey the Queen rose, the white silk of her dress clinging to every curve, her breasts almost spilling out of the low cut of the gown. Her silver hair danced around her and shone with as much magnificence as the crown upon her head.
She was the mirror image of me.
I stared at her with cold fury. How dare she disrespect my father in such a manner!
"Now that the entire court is assembled I believe I am in a position to address the murder of King Aura II. Indeed this has been a tragedy that has caused a grievous amount of pain to all who are present here. Yet the pain of loosing such a worthy leader is nothing to the traitor that committed the abominable act. Not only going against law, but nature itself! A traitor who is present among us today!" Her voice demanded attention as it rang clearly around the hall. Her last words created uproar from the crowd, with many yelling threats and drawing swords. Even Damien had a look of fury painted across his features his hand griping the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white, his eyes darkened with anger.
I narrowed my eyes and arched a brow.
Nothing could have ever prepared me from what was to come.
"Princess Aurora Serenity, I hereby charge you with high treason and murder of King Aura II. Such a crime can only be punished in one way and that is through death. You shall be executed 2 days hence at twelve noon."
I merely stared at her.
Numb.
Yet, I shall never be able to explain why a part of me was relived even though it was a very small part.
The rest of me was burning from the force of my anger.
Many voices had yelled out their outrage, the court in uproar.
"This is absurd." Damien's voice sliced through the room like a hot knife through butter. His emerald eyes were ablaze staring at the queen in cold hatred.
"No." It was the only coherent thought that I had managed to say aloud. I had known long before this day of the nature of the Queen's feelings for me. I also knew that if Damien or anyone else challenged her they would most likely share my fate. I would never let that happen to Damien or anyone else I held dear.
Never.
Damien slowly walked towards me, his golden hair flying around him, his royal blue tunic accentuating his broad shoulders, his sword gleaming from his slim hips. I watched him, carefully memorising the way he was pressing his lips together in frustration. The way his eyes resembled so closely our father's. I closed my eyes not wanting to accept that this was the last time I was to see him, yet not having the strength to fight.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them gently. I shall never forget the pain present in his eyes. He slowly brought his lips to my ear.
"I cannot loose you too." His voice was shallower than a whisper and on the verge of breaking. My heart shattered a thousand times as I heard him. "If he was here he'd kill her for trying to hurt you, he'd want you to fight. I need you to fight." The mention of our father released another assault of anger through my veins. Anger that was directed towards my father. I realised then that no limitation was set in concrete, that I could create my own boundaries and break them as I saw fit.
"But he left." I saw the look of worry that flashed through his eyes. I could feel the sheer longing.
"But I have not. You must fight Serenity. Promise me." He shook me gently trying to drum his words into me, his tone exposing his increasing desperate need to get through to me. When I did not answer his grip tightened even more. "Promise." This time his voice was not gentle but a command. I looked up at him slowly and nodded.
"I promise." As those words left my mouth strong arms wrapped around me again and ripped me from the arms of my beloved brother. I gave in to the darkness before I could hear my brother's screams of protest.
