FLP Ch_12 **This is where everything from last chapter comes together. Enjoy!**

Evening Star

For Love of the Past

Chapter 12

The Throne of Pluto was not one gained through being the first born, as like with many Kingdoms and Empires throughout the Silver Millennium. To earn the right to become King or Queen of Pluto, the children of the reigning Majesties were forced to do battle against each other, and the Warriors of Pluto who'd proven themselves to be amongst the best within the Empire. These Birthright Ceremonies were held once all of the children of the Royal Family became of age. Through these ceremonies, the child to prove themselves as being the greater Warrior of all his or her siblings, the one to be of the most honor and purest of hearts would win the right of inheriting the Throne of Pluto – and the Sword of Pluto would be theirs.

The Birthright Ceremonies were not mock battles, set up to entertain the viewing public. They were battles of war, life threatening and perilous. The worlds around them considered the Plutonians to be barbaric, yet this was their way. The children of the Royal Family were not forced to fight, they chose to do so. For while those who lived beyond the borders of the Empire could see only a savage battle, where young adults who loved each other as brother and sister were forced to fight for their lives against each other, the people of Pluto saw salvation. The ceremonies were necessary; even the King and Queen, though heart broken as they were always to have to watch their children fight, knew it had to be done. It was the only way to ensure that the powers of the Glacier Crystal, and the Empire, fell into the hands of one who was just. It was for the safety of the Solar System, if not the Galaxy. The Glacier Crystal was the third most powerful force of our System, with its powers being very nearly equal to that of the Moon Silver Crystal – though not quite. If its powers were to fall under the control of one who was evil, combined with the deadly force of the Plutonian Army, all of hell could threaten to be unleashed. These ceremonies prevented such disasters, regardless of how barbaric they may have seemed.

Yet gazing up at the Sword now, Malachite questioned how it was at all possible. There had been no Ceremonies held, no way for him to prove his worthiness to be the future King of a long dead Empire. He himself had seen the Sword, with the Glacier Crystal set within, be destroyed as his father had called for more power than the crystal was capable of giving – the complete exhausting of its powers caused the Sword and Crystal's destruction, and indirectly, the death of his parents. So how could it be that it was here now? Malachite's mind thought quickly, trying to find an answer – he could not.

Oh, how it hurt him to see this Sword after so long. Being faced with it now brought to life all of the pains of his past - pains Malachite had labored for so long to abolish from his mind. His heart ached at the sight of it, hurting him to breathe. Finding his voice, he spoke to his Queen. "Kiaya, explain this," Malachite spoke low, his tone nearly threatening, his voice rumbling deep within his chest. Sailor Star stood unmoving, unnerved by Malachite's obvious, rare anger. Never had she heard him use such a tone with their Queen. Suddenly she became wary of the weapon held suspended in the air above her. Kiaya, however, seemed unperturbed, stating simply, "Explain what, dear Prince? Through your training, as the last surviving soul of Pluto, you have proven yourself worthy of the Throne of Pluto." Her answer did not seem to please him.

Malachite turned around slowly, looking straight into the eyes of his Queen. His gaze was cold, level, and clearly expressed that to make light of the situation at hand would not be wise. Kiaya knew all too well the sensitivity of the situation at hand. The traditions of his people were precious to Malachite, and he had raised himself believing he could never truly do justice for his beloved home planet. For her to suggest to him now that he had proven himself worthy as a True Prince of Pluto, despite the titles the people of the Sun City had bestowed upon him, in Malachite's mind, was blasphemy. Cautiously, Kiaya continued softly, "The Sword of Pluto has returned to you Malachite, it has chosen you to become the next King Glacier; its presence here is proof enough of that fact." Her gaze softened - her love for this adoptive son of hers evident in her eyes. "Lay claim to it Malachite," she coaxed, "it is yours."

Looking on in silence, realization dawned for Sailor Star as her mind absorbed Kiaya's words. She looked up sharply at the sword above her, and had to consciously suppress a gasp. The Sword of Pluto…it can't be, not after so long. Malachite had, long ago, explained its history to her, and its significance to the Planet Pluto. Her mind told her this should be a joyous time, yet her heart knew other wise. She could see the pain its presence caused Malachite, and felt an uncharacteristic burning of hatred in her heart. How dare you return to him now, Sword! Where were you so long ago, when he needed you most! Return to the oblivion, from which you came, you are not wanted here! I will not let you harm him any further, Aurora pledged. Yet she knew in her heart that this decision was not hers to make, and her eyes relayed that knowledge to Malachite as he looked to her now, struggling against himself to decide which move to make. He too felt anger at the Sword, for returning only now that his sufferings were over, though he knew he could no more deny the Sword than he could cease to breathe. With his back to the Sword, he turned his head to look at it from the corner of his eyes, eyeing it with anger. Turning to face the Sword, his past, and embrace his destiny, Malachite came to a decision, and walking deftly up to the Sword, grasped its hilt. Pure, white light burst throughout the small Garden's clearing. The Sword had claimed Malachite as its own.

The surge of power released from the Sword swept through Malachite, bringing with it memories from times long past; memories of past Kings and Queens, and memories of his own father and mother. Images flashed through his mind, words, voices – they were as a whirlwind within his mind, all making sense, yet no sense at all. It was through this heavy assault on his senses, however, that one voice made itself heard above all the rest; a voice Malachite did not know. It was nether male nor female, human, nor inhuman. In fact, it was not so much a voice and words spoken, as it was a thought, a feeling, an inclination to call out to something Malachite, as of yet, did not understand. The strategic and logical part of his mind deduced that, this possibly was the very essence of the Sword reaching out to him. Wary, yet seeing no other option open to him, Malachite followed the command that he was being urged, now with considerable force, to call aloud.

At his unspoken consent, the light bathing the clearing within the Gardens dimmed appreciably. Still held a loft, the Sword itself was all that retained a soft, white glow. His eyes on the Sword, Malachite called out the command with intent, his voice deep and rough with emotion. Aurora found herself questioning what emotion it was, truly, that he was feeling, unable as she was to determine what sort of intent it was that she heard in his voice. Kiaya looked on without prejudice, finding relief with the knowledge that Malachite did if fact concede to what the Sword asked of him.

"Pluto Warrior Power!" His voice resonated throughout the clearing, yet remained steady and strong. Clouds gathered in the skies above, thunder boomed, and lighting flashed. A bitterly cold wing swept through the Gardens. Aurora stood her ground by her Queen, defenseless against the cold, as the sheer force of the wind threatened to carry them both away. The Sword flashed brightly once again, and upon doing so, an unseen force moved up Malachite's body, causing his cape to billow and his hair to whip wildly about his face; it had been, almost, as if a gust of wind had shot up from underneath him. It was then that a column wind took on a life of its own, carrying within its midst, snow. It spiraled upwards and widely around Malachite, seemingly lazily. When the column of wind reached a significant height above Malachite, it arced suddenly, and moved down over him directly. It moved quickly over the sword, no longer spiraling, but straight, until it reached the hand, which held it. The column of snow-laden wind than began to coil itself around Malachite's body, tightly, moving swiftly around his body until all that remained of him was, seemingly, a cocoon of coiled wind – the snow within blowing around wildly.

Sailor Star tensed at this, fearing the worst, and was preparing to make her move to save Malachite, when Queen Kiaya put a restraining hand upon Aurora's arm. "No, Sailor Star," she commanded softly, though her tone left no room for argument, "he is safe. Let him be." Sailor Star bowed down to her Queen's command, however unwillingly, and returned to watching the spectacle unfolding before her eyes.

The coiled column of wind, its snow still blowing wildly within its confines, remained in place a few moments more, acting as a protective shield from outside forces. Then it dissipated rapidly, obviously having exploded outwards, the wind whipping out in all directions. Where the coil cocoon of wind had once been, now stood Malachite, his uniform changed - no longer the formal dress of a Plutonian Prince, but not all together different. His uniform was, essentially, the same uniform he would later wear under the command of Queen Beryl, but this uniform's colorings were much different. Malachite's entire suit was white, accented as it was by sparkling blue trimmings around his cuffs, and the bottom, and front dividing edge of his uniform's 'blazer'. His collar was open, revealing a slight bit of his bare upper chest, the lapels of his 'blazer' and collar being of the same sparkling blue as the suit's trimmings. The uniform's pants and shoes were also white, as was the exterior lining of the cape which billowed from his shoulders. Yet the interior lining, too, was a sparkling blue. The cape was held in place much the way as had the been cape of Malachite's official dress, by way of two smooth, blue gems set in a base of silver. The base could only be seen as a small circle of silver surrounding the edge of the blue gems, one of which sat on each shoulder. His hands were gloved in gloves of white.

Observing him more closely, Sailor Star, in fact, could see little difference between this uniform and the last, save for the loss of the heavy, official blazer, and the addition of a ebony black belt, wrapped around Malachite's waist. Aurora could only assume this was to be used as a place to sheath the Sword. This uniform did appear to be more light, and less restricting of movement than the last, which made only sense Aurora reasoned, seeing as how this uniform was obviously one to be used in battle.

Malachite then made one sudden, fluid movement, gathering the edge of his cape in his left hand, the other not holding the Sword, and bringing the Sword down closer to his body, he swept the cape around and in front of him, covering himself and the Sword. He continued to move round full circle, in the direction of the swung cape, until he stood facing Sailor Star and the Sun Queen. Cape's edge still in hand, Malachite drew his left hand to his right shoulder, gathering the cape close around him, and bringing the Sword out in front of him. Sword held within his right hand, Malachite held his Sword as far to his left as his arm's length would allow. He held the Sword horizontally, broad side of the blade facing out and in. Drawing the Sword in front of his closed his eyes, he made a sudden movement with his wrist, turning the broad side of the Sword to face downwards and up; positioning the Sword in the same fashion in which you would properly lay down any sword. At that exact same moment, Malachite opened his eyes, looking directly at Sailor Star, though she knew it was not her he saw. Magically, a mask appeared over his eyes - a mask mirroring, in many ways, the mask of Tuxedo Mask. It covered his eyes in much the same fashion, seemingly held in place only by some unseen, magical force. Yet the edges of this mask were not smooth, as were the edges of Tuxedo Mask's. This mask's edges, all the way around, were jagged, taking on the spiked, triangular form most commonly associated with ice crystals. (I'll attempt a picture to better illustrate this.)

With the completion of his mask, Malachite, simultaneously, swiftly drew his Sword down and out to his side at an angle to his body, and released his cape from his grasp, allowing it to billow in the wind. He stood tall, his body stilled and holding his position; arms help just slightly away from his sides. His shoulders were squared, and his eyes held a highly focused look – he was ready for anything, and primed for action. Slowly he drew the Sword in front of him, holding it at waist level, broadside facing him. Looking down at it, it shone softly, as if to welcome him into his new beginning; the light then faded.

Sailor Star and Queen Kiaya waited in trepidation for Malachite to come to terms with all that had happened – and for him to explain what he could about the new self he had become. They did not wait long. Looking up at them for the first time with clear eyes, truly seeing, Malachite explained simply, "I am Warrior Pluto, Last Warrior Prince of Pluto, and Guardian to the City of the Sun."

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