The Silver Age
Chapter 26
"I don't understand," Mars replied, "What do you mean they aren't coming back?"
"I don't know the details," Venus answered, "Only that after the celebration, something went very wrong. Three of them have been imprisoned. Kunzite said that it's too dangerous for them to contact us again. He risked his life to tell me that much. He says the gateways are being watched all the time by Beryl."
"Beryl," Selenity repeated, "That's the woman who wants to destroy the Moon kingdom."
"Yes," Venus answered with a sigh.
They five girls sat in silence in the palace courtyard.
"All that work for nothing," Jupiter said, at last. "Nothing is going to come of it."
"It would seem so," Mars replied. She grimly watched the silver fish hiding under the lily-pad.
They watched their princess for any signs of an approaching storm of tears, but her large blue eyes remained dry.
"Those poor men," she said, finally.
Venus blinked.
"We have to do something."
They all stared at her.
Selenity stood up.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked.
"We have to do something. There is a planet down there, a world, where innocent, peace-loving people are being shamefully treated by this woman and her retinue! It's not right. How can we be guardians of the galaxy if we let them suffer?"
"All due respect," Jupiter intervened, "But Earth's not under our jurisdiction."
"Well, it is now."
The authoritative tone in Selenity's voice was new. She had a new edge to her gaze.
"We've been complacent for too long," she said, "We've let things slide between us and Earth. Mother used to tell me a story about the Earth and the Moon - about how the Earth king decided that it was too painful for Earthlings to risk forming relationships with the Moon people because separation would always haunt them. But life is painful; life is full of separation. If not now, then eventually we will all be separated from those we love. I won't let the people of Earth suffer because of that."
"This is all very noble," Mars intoned, "But what do you actually plan to do about it? How are we supposed to help the Earth?"
"I don't know, but I do know that I cannot sit here while I know that they are being treated like criminals by the people who should be thanking them for trying to save their planet."
"I agree -" Venus began.
"Thank you!"
"It's just that," she went on, "Mars has a point. We can't exactly declare full-fledged war - the five of us - on an entire planet in the name of rescuing its citizens, no matter how much they deserve help."
"It is not logical," Mercury added, though she also seemed saddened.
Selenity sank down onto the lip of the pond, deflated.
"But what can we do?" she murmured, "We must do something."
She gazed solemnly at Earth floating in the sky. It was not hard to guess who she was thinking of most.
Mercury gave a slight cough.
"I wonder if it would be of any use to alert the Queen to the fact that the guardians of the prince have been imprisoned? I feel it's something she would want to know. And perhaps she will have some ideas."
"My mother has to keep the peace," Selenity argued, her tone almost bitter. "I know what her answer will be."
Mars, Venus, and Jupiter exchanged worried glances. Selenity was growing more and more rebellious as the days since her last visit with the prince dragged on and there looked to be no opportunities for them to meet in the future.
"Still," Venus chirped, "It's worth a shot, huh?"
"Under no circumstances," the Queen pronounced, her brow, for once, knit with annoyance.
"Mother, you don't understand -," Selenity began.
"I understand all too well, believe me," the Queen cut her off, "You are the one who doesn't understand that there is simply nothing we can do to help those unfortunate young men now."
Selenity balled her skirts into her fists. The other princesses were a mixture of worry and fear. Selenity never argued with her mother. With Luna, yes; with Venus, often; with Mars, almost always. But never with Queen Selenity.
"How can you!?" Selenity exploded.
The Queen was taken aback.
"How can you sit here and do nothing? We have the power! We can help them. This whole war is so stupid!" she began to sob.
The Queen's stern mask faltered for a moment, but she remained firm.
"This behavior is not befitting a princess, Selenity, much less a guardian. I understand your feelings on this subject, but it would be worse than foolish to risk our very fragile peace on a fool's mission. The hardest task any ruler must endure is standing by while others suffer. But the good of the galaxy is at stake and I will not risk trillions of lives for one planet."
"You always do this," Selenity sobbed, "You can't think of anything but duty! Well, let me tell you something, mother. Love is more important. Compassion is more important! You have no heart!"
Selenity burst into tears and ran out of the throne room, and the others followed her, except Venus.
The Queen let her features relax; her proud shoulders wilted suddenly under the weight of her wings.
"Your majesty," Venus ventured, "You know she doesn't mean it. She's just worried about the prince -"
"I know," the Queen interjected. "I'm beginning to think I never should have let them spend time together. It seemed harmless enough at first. But now..."
Venus shifted uneasily.
"Some things," she said, haltingly, "Some things seem...meant to be. You know? I'm not sure you could have done anything."
"Yes, you're probably right. But it still hurts, doesn't it?"
Venus didn't know how to answer the Queen. After a few moments, she turned on her heel and left the throne room.
In the courtyard, in the early dawn, five men and one woman stood alone. Beryl stood facing the shitennou, the folds of her gown flapping around her ankles. She was ready for the oath ceremony. She had prepared the words, the gestures, everything as the voice had instructed her.
In the early light, the four guardians stared back at her, but their gazes were directed beyond her, toward the figure of the prince behind her. There he waited, calm and silent, dressed in dark blue and steel, a long cape at his shoulders. His features were like a mask, unreadable, but his eyes from time to time flashed anger and frustration.
The men could sense these feelings and they became uneasy. It was difficult to keep still. Only Kunzite was perfectly still, staring ahead at Endymion.
"Hold out your right hands," Beryl began, solemnly stretching out her own hand.
Then men's gazes flickered to Endymion's face, but when he gave an almost imperceptible nod, they stretched out their own hands.
"Repeat after me," Beryl continued, "I swear now and for all eternity undying fealty to the king's chosen one, Beryl."
They repeated as one the oath.
"This vow can never be broken," she went on, "Not by man or immortal powers."
"What kind of vow is this?" Zoisite whispered to Jadeite as he knelt down beside him for the end of the oath ceremony.
Jadeite only frowned. Like the others, he had not liked the idea of vowing anything to Beryl, but had understood that the prince demanded this of him for the good of their cause. Endymion would never ask him to do such a distasteful thing unless it was the only way. And he would certainly do anything for Endymion. Beryl, of course, was negotiable, oath or no oath. He had long ago decided that no oath would ever supersede his loyalty to Endymion.
But as he finished the vows with the others, he felt an odd sensation, as if some intangible hand had taken its hold over his heart. He stiffened, then almost fell over. As he caught himself with one hand, he looked at the others, and they all wore similar expressions of surprise.
"What -" he began, but then he felt the power, whatever it was, squeeze his heart, and he fell silent, unable to speak. Beads of perspiration stood out on his brow, and he could see the sweat run down Zoisite's face. The look in the other man's eyes told him that what he was feeling was very real.
With an awful wrench, he saw that Kunzite was struggling. He seemed to be trying to say something, but whatever the power was that was controlling them was keeping him from uttering a word.
Jadeite looked to Beryl and felt his blood run cold. There was a cold, clear triumph in her eyes as she gazed on them, something that Endymion, standing behind her, could not see. And though he seemed somewhat puzzled by their behavior, the prince clearly didn't realize what was wrong. And they could not tell him.
Oh, no. said a voice, indistinctly in his mind. You cannot speak a word of this.
"I've gone mad," he thought. "This is what it's like to go mad."
Not mad, the voice said, Just mine. Mine forever. Always.
Outside, Jadeite was standing now, turning to follow his comrades into Endymion's briefing room. Inside, he was screaming. But no one, most importantly prince Endymion, could hear him.