Chapter One - Visions of Ice
Cold. All she knew was ice, all she sensed was death. The air was so cold that her lungs screamed in pain and her skin felt as if it were being pierced by a thousand tiny knives all at once. The ghost of a city once full of life, now a coffin of ice. She tried to push the ice from her mind, ignore the cold, continue her search. Faces looked up at her, everywhere she looked she was haunted by faces. Some frozen in masks of terror, others at peace, as if the ice had brought a welcome rest. Sleeping for all eternity, never knowing the despair of the world again.
The chill of the wind cut through her robes, whipping her raven hair against her skin, mimicking in agony the lashes of a thousand tiny whips. Desolation consumed her. She wanted to lie down and join the sleeping, to be in peace, but she had to know what had happened. She was driven by some inner strength she couldn't name, towards the pillar of ice, always towards its peak, always towards the power buried inside of it. The chance for salvation kept her moving, helped her put one foot in front of the other. If only she could reach the spire, if only she could touch that power. The power with the answer, the power to melt the ice, the power to end her unending torment.
The sound of ice cracking grabbed her attention, tearing it from the spire. It always ended this way, the sound of it cutting to her core, consuming her so completely that she couldn't turn aside, couldn't pull away. The rush of ice falling and shattering surrounded her, razor sharp blades of jagged frozen water flew around her without piercing the flesh. No, this torment would not be physical. As it always would, when the dust settled, the landscape sparkled so brilliantly that there was only one spot in the world she could bare to look. She dreaded it, feared it, wanted to close her eyes, run away, but knew she couldn't. A streak of gold demanded her attention, framed by the same white silk, the same folds, the same shape. The golden streamer of hair continued upwards, past bodice to bare arms, eternally youthful skin, and a face that was achingly familiar.
Her heart shattered in grief, her eyes unable to tear themselves away from the woman's determined and yet grief-stricken features. It wasn't possible! Her mind raged against it, her soul screamed in agony, and she found herself calling for the fires again, reaching against hope, grasping for the strength to save the golden angel encased in ice. But the fires would not come here, and as she looked down to her useless hands she found that they were already encased in the unfeeling prison of this world. Half her body was trapped, and as the ice, slow but unstoppable, crept up to consume her, she gazed once more upon the imprisoned angel. One last look at all that was good in the world. She would have wept if the tears weren't already frozen in her eyes. Without warning she couldn't breath, the world lost focus, and the universe went dark.
Rei's eyes snapped open as her body jerked convulsively into an upright position. She was drenched in sweat and yet frozen to the core. Her body screamed to rid itself of these cold, damp clothes but she ignored it. She closed her eyes instead and tried to recapture the rapidly escaping vision. It was during these moments that she could recall the most from her dreams. This was when she was most likely to remember that one crucial detail she knew she must be forgetting. But the dream faded in moments, and she pounded her fist against the floor in anger, as hot tears stained her cheeks. What good was this cursed sight of hers if she couldn't understand it?
For the past decade she'd been plagued with these ice dreams. The first had come the night after Usagi returned, but when nearly a year went by without another sign of it, she had dismissed the vision as a simple dream. It was exactly one year later, on the anniversary of Setsuna's death, when the vision returned. She'd spent a solid week in contemplation before the sacred fire, trying to find meaning in the vague memories of ice and death. Her sight would not co-operate, however, and once again she began to doubt that it was more than a dream. Only six months after the second dream, a third came. Since then she'd been plagued with them more and more frequently. But as the long peace continued to stretch on, even she began to question whether they were real, or if she was simply losing it. Except that every morning, when the dream was beginning to fade, she knew with frightening certainty that they were more than just dreams. They were a warning, she knew they must be, but without context, without being able to properly meditate on them, she couldn't begin to comprehend the meaning behind it all. Hino Rei, priestess and spiritual leader, was lost.
With a deep sigh and a slight shiver she pushed off her blankets and hurried off into the bathhouse. Ever since the dreams had become persistent, she'd adjusted her schedule around them. Normally she preferred to bathe in the evenings, but not only did a bath warm her after these nightmares, but she felt much better when she rid herself of the grime of sweat. She also used the time to dissect the dreams, pulling out every little facet and examining it from every angle. She hoped that perhaps, this time, she would remember who's face was buried beneath the ice. She wished she could recall the form of the city beneath the ice. Those weren't the worst though, for those two she could guess.
She hadn't known at first. About five years ago, however, Usagi had shown up on her doorstep after one of the dreams. With the memory so vivid and fresh. she had known without question that it was Usagi trapped in her nightmares. She'd resolved not to bring it up, however, deciding that premonitions of doom would only take some of the joy from her dearest friend's happy life. Knowing, instead of just guessing, that the fighting would begin again- she'd pretend to laugh and smile, but it would kill her inside. No, Rei would keep it to herself.
The city was probably Tokyo. It might not be, but since she was the one plagued by the dreams, and not likely ever to move, she decided that Tokyo was the best guess. What she chased, however, what she desperately wanted to know, but couldn't figure out, was the message beneath it all. There was nothing she could imagine that would be capable of freezing an entire city in ice. If it was dark magic, well she couldn't do anything about it without having some hint at it's source, or how to fight it. Then there was the other side, maybe it was all just a metaphor; a way of expressing something she couldn't comprehend. That was the most likely possibility, and the most frightening. Was it some failing on her part that she couldn't understand? What if there was something she desperately needed to do, and was just too thick to realize it? With a shudder she shook away the beginnings of panic and resolved not to fret about it right then. Instead, she finished her bath and got dressed.
As she adjusted the last folds of her robes, the date on the calender caught her eye. The day itself wasn't so special, it was the markings she had made on it that stunned her. Her robes temporarily forgotten, she picked up the marker hanging by the calendar, and added a small blue tick in the square for today's date. It was a Saturday morning, and every day of the past week had that small blue tick marked off. 'Every day this week. Ami was right... so what now?'
Ami had been the logical choice to approach with this problem. Aside from being stunningly brilliant, her element was ice and of all the senshi she was mostly likely to be able to decipher this mess. Unfortunately their efforts hadn't yielded any tangible results. The two of them had spent several days in meditation alone, and the most they'd come up with was Ami's prediction of how often the dreams would occur. This had been the first full week of the ice dream, and if Ami's predictions continued to be correct, there would be no more dreamless nights for Rei. 'We swore to meet with everyone today, but I never thought it would really happen."
More disturbing to the priestess, was the apparent side-effect of these visions. She'd been unable to see anything but ice in the fire for far longer than she was willing to admit. The dreams consumed her from within. She hadn't been able to do a reading on anyone without being blocked by visions of ice and the feelings of isolation, sickness and death. Try as she might, she just couldn't get passed it. Even during meditation, something that had come easily to her since she was a child, just when she got her thoughts settled and her mind empty and relaxed, the icicle spire would fill her mind's eye. It penetrated to every crevice of her being, and try as she might, she could never win a moment's respite. It was worse on the days she woke up from the nightmare, and for the past few months it had become impossible to see anything else at all. "I would be frightened I'm going insane, but Ami seems convinced its not insanity. I can never understand her explanations, but I trust her judgment. The question is where does that knowledge take me?" As always, the answer wouldn't come. "Well, there's nothing for it. I've wasted enough time going over the same thoughts for far too long, and life won't wait for me to figure it out."
So, with the thoughts of frozen dreams put aside for later, she went about her chores. Resolving not to worry about it until all the senshi were together, and they could consider the problem with new perspective.
The soothing sounds of a piano flowed through many rooms of Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru's home. The song was peaceful, mysterious, and hinted at a sadness that was both overwhelming and faded at the same time. Haruka closed her eyes and let herself become carried away by the haunting melody. Over the years the grief had gotten easier to deal with. It had taken a very long time to stop hearing whispers of her voice, to stop imagining she was just guarding the gates of time and could appear at any moment. Michiru's composing had only gotten better with time, and each year she managed to capture more of Setsuna's spirit in this song that only a handful of people had ever heard. No one had understood them as Setsuna had, perhaps because they were so alike, and the reverse was true as well; Haruka and Michiru understood the guardian's devotion to her duty more than any of the other senshi. While this made her sacrifice easier to understand, it did not make her passing any less painful.
As the last notes echoed off the walls, Haruka took a deep breath and pulled together her composure once more. The touch of soft, familiar hands on her own told the sandy-haired woman that she had gotten lost in thought again. Smiling faintly, she opened her eyes to gaze up at her love's face.
"She would have loved it." Haruka spoke softly, her hand closing gently on Michiru's. "It's perfect."
"You would say that." Michiru replied wryly, forcing a smile. Her cheeks were lightly stained with tears, the signs were faint, but Haruka could always tell. "Is Hotaru back yet?" Haruka shook her head slightly, before sitting up properly and pulling Michiru towards her. Setsuna would have been proud of Hotaru; the once troubled and tormented girl had decided to do something worthwhile with her life. Being the soldier of death was a great burden for a girl so young and, as if to make up for it, she had turned to helping life. Her training to become a nurse was almost complete now, and already she was working long hours in the hospital. Though her healing powers were small and sporadic, she wanted to use them whenever she could to help those who needed it most. But the job was more than just a channel for her powers; though the child might not see it herself, the scars on her soul were slowly healing more and more.
Haruka wrapped her arm around Michiru's shoulders, leaning her head on her lover's and breathing in the intoxicating scent of her hair. It wasn't just Hotaru that had changed. Ten years was a long time. The soldiers of wind and sea had met each other to join in battle. The only life they had known was in protecting the planet and the princess. Without danger and death waiting around every corner, they'd been free to think on themselves, and in the past decade the two women had grown even closer then they had ever imagined was possible.
"She won't be back for another hour at least." Haruka whispered softly, reaching her right hand around and just under Michiru's loose blouse, to hold her love softly around the waist. Michiru leaned back, resting in Haruka's lap, her every movement conveying grace and beauty. Haruka shivered at the sensations that flooded her body in response. Her hand wandered upwards as her lips caressed Michiru's creamy skin, tracing a path from her temple, down to the tip of her nose, and then to those lovely lips themselves. No words were necessary, not anymore. Once again Haruka wondered if this was too good to be true, if she would wake to find it all a dream. Surely she didn't deserve this indescribable happiness, this angel that completed her and filled her with joy. But then Michiru responded more forcefully, and Haruka surrendered to her passion and unending love. This was no dream, no dream could ever be as good as this.
Chiba Usagi squinted her eyes, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth, and her face set in a frown of deep concentration. With the greatest of care she caressed the canvas with her tiny brush, adding the last of the highlights to her newest creation. Satisfied, she sat back and admired her work. It was still missing something, she decided, but if inspiration hadn't hit yet, it wasn't likely to while she sat here staring until her eyes crossed.
Yawning, she stretched and put down her pallet and brush, adding more clutter to the already disastrous work room. Of course, she didn't mind, and this was the one room in the house where everything was the way she wanted it, 'and if that means clutter, well I certainly don't have a problem with it!' Stepping carefully over her maze of assorted junk and art supplies, Usagi made her way to the small sink and began scrubbing her hands industriously. She didn't mind having hands covered in paint, in fact in some ways she loved it, but if she got paint on everything she touched, well she'd be the one to clean it up, and in many ways Usagi was just as lazy as she'd ever been.
"Mommy! Are you ready yet?" Chibi-Usa's young voice called plaintively from the living room. The 8-year old girl had just gotten out of school for the summer and had been practically bouncing off the walls all morning. Not that Usagi minded, Chibi-Usa was a joy to be with and the promise of ice cream and the park was enough to make even her mother excitable. She would have liked to get more work done, but with Mamoru off at work himself, and their daughter home all day, Usagi hadn't really expected to even get as far as she had.
"Coming!" She called back with a small giggle. Who would have thought that the girl she had loathed as a child, would fill her life with so much joy now? Admittedly, Usagi hadn't known the pink-haired brat was her daughter then, and the Chibi-Usa of the future had seemingly gone out of her way to cling to Mamoru and make Usagi jealous; but even after knowing who she was, Usagi had still had moments when she'd wanted to throttle the girl. Not that she would have, but the thought did cross her mind. Now that she'd raised Chibi-Usa from a baby though, it was all different. 'Too different... this isn't the future we visited. Something has gone wrong and without Setsuna, we may never know what happened.' Pushing those nasty, depressing thoughts from her head, Usagi pulled her still long hair into her unique pigtails, and headed off into the living room.
A whirlwind of pink latched onto her legs the instant she'd crossed the threshold, and Usagi couldn't help but laugh. Smiling broadly, she hoisted Chibi-Usa up into her arms. "All your toys put away little one?" She questioned seriously. Though Usagi hadn't changed much in the last 10 years, the one thing she had gained was a greater sense of responsibility, especially where her daughter was concerned.
Chibi-Usa sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Yes Mom." She replied with an air of complete boredom. "So can we go already?" There was excitement in her tone, and a sparkle in her eyes reminded Usagi so much of herself.
"Just let me grab my things. You go put your shoes on and get your hat." She ordered with a grin. Chibi-Usa squirmed out of her arms immediately, tearing off down the hallway and skidding to a halt at the end.
"You've got paint in your hair again!" She called out as she wheeled around the corner, much to Usagi's chagrin.
Usagi dashed quickly into the bedroom she shared with Mamoru, slipping her sandals on without paying much attention to them, and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, there was a quite visible streak of blue paint marring her golden locks. She frowned and picked at it a little, before deciding that it wouldn't be coming out until she showered. Well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd gone outside with paint in her hair, or on her face, or on her clothes. It didn't matter how careful she was, somehow it found a way. In fact, she couldn't even remember using blue paint.
"Mom! Hurry up, I'm ready!" Came Chibi-Usa's excited, but clearly annoyed cries. She was a sweet kid, but she had as much patience as her mother when it came to ice cream. Grabbing her purse off the bed, Usagi trotted out of the room, down the hallway and to the door. Chibi-Usa gave her an exasperated look, so in return Usagi reached down and began tickling the child relentlessly. She would never have imagined motherhood could be this much fun. It seemed that after all the years of fighting, fate had finally decided to let her be happy, and she cherished every moment of it.
Mizuno Ami checked her watch for the fourth time before scanning the courtyard intently, picking out every detail. Technically Hotaru wasn't late yet, but Ami was so excited to see all the group together again that she couldn't help it. She'd just come off a long shift, but by the energy she was giving off that even the least gifted could see, she was anything but tired.
"Ready to head out?" Ami nearly jumped out of her skin as the quiet, but familiar, voice sounded out behind her. Tomoe Hotaru had changed immensely in the last ten years. She'd shot up in height, now towering over every last one of the senshi. She was eerily quiet and for all that she should have stood out, especially with her jet black hair framing her almost violet eyes and eternally pale skin, and she scared years off of everyone around her at regular intervals by suddenly appearing behind them without a sound or hint of movement. Still, she retained some of the joy that the Chibi-Usa from the future had instilled in her, though there was still that constant sadness in her eyes.
"Yes, definitely." Ami replied with a grin, before leading the way out of the courtyard. "So how are the classes going?"
"Well enough." Hotaru answered softly, her eyes distant. Ami looked up at her, for Ami still as short as ever; her hair was a little longer, her body a little more shapely, but otherwise she hadn't changed. She studied Hotaru intently as they walked, wondering what was going on behind that unfocused gaze. Though Hotaru had always been quiet, she'd come out of her shell quite a bit in the last few years, and this distance, especially where Ami was concerned, was not normal.
"Something wrong?" She looked away and asked cautiously, not wanting to intrude, but feeling strongly compelled to find out.
Hotaru paused, leaving Ami walking ahead for a few moments before she realized her friend had stopped. Hotaru was staring intently off into the distance now, her right hand clenched tightly to her side, her left holding her books absently.
"I... sense something." She spoke cautiously, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I'm not sure what..." She stood there in silence for at least a full minute before sighing and picking up the walk again. "I'm sorry Ami, I don't know what's bothering me. I've been feeling unsettled for days now, but I can't find the cause."
Ami considered the words for a long moment. Everyone who'd been involved in the events of a decade ago felt unsettled at this time of year, especially on today of all days. Still, Hotaru would know that and should be used to it. Perhaps it was just the day, but with a sudden feeling of dread, Ami suspected it might not be. Excited to see the girls though she was, she was also very much aware of Rei's current situation, and Hotaru's mysterious feelings of foreboding were not a good sign.
"I think we'll have a lot to discuss today." She temporized after a moment, deciding not to tell Rei's story now, when it would all be coming in a handful of hours anyway.
Hotaru began to nod, and the stopped midway through, just moments before an ear-shattering shriek lanced through the peaceful summer air. Both girls tensed as their hands shot to their ears, looking around frantically for the source of the inhuman scream.
Ami winced as the sound penetrated past her hands, straight to her head and her heart. Distressingly, she couldn't focus on finding the source, in fact she couldn't focus on anything. Her vision was blurring, her stomach churned and she fell to her knees, head spinning, acid rising in her throat. The pain in her head was so intense that she couldn't believe her skull was not being torn open.
Just as she was beginning to become truly lost in a maelstrom of pain, she felt a vague sensation of pressure and movement on her shoulders. There was a voice, almost completely buried beneath the shrieking, and it was just enough to convince Ami to pry her eyes open once more. She almost lost control of her stomach the instant she did, the world was rotating violently, but a glimpse of familiar clothing grounded her. Hotaru had transformed, Ami realized rapidly, and must be trying to get her to do the same.
It felt like an eternity and an instant since she had last felt that familiar rush of power. The sound of her voice vanished amidst the overpowering shriek, but the rush of strength brought with it an enormous relief. The pain in her head eased, her stomach settled, her vision came back into focus.
Sailor Mercury had returned once more. She gave Saturn a grateful look, quite glad for the fast thinking, and gave her right earing a squeeze. The sound continued to assault her, and Saturn had a pinched look to her eyes that told Mercury the other soldier was faring the same. Talking would be impossible, and that would make things more difficult, but they would manage somehow, they always did.
A wave of black despair washed over Sailor Mercury, threatening to steal away her composure. She steeled herself against it, forced herself to focus on her scanner, to find the source of this attack; but she couldn't stop the handful of rogue tears that escaped her aching eyes.
The decade of peace was over. A new war had begun.