Usagi

I had slept so heavily I had forgotten where I was.

My eyes opened and I was fully expecting to be sleeping in my own bed. The events of the day prior seemed like a very strange dream, and when I finally stirred, I was positive I would see the ceiling of my room. Instead I was greeted by an endless sea of white.

Rubbing my eyes, I wiped away the dreariness of sleep. I was still stuck here and had no idea what my stay would entail. My mind raced to the silver millennium crystal. How was I supposed to survive here without it? Curling my legs over the side of the bed, I looked around again. The room was truly magnificent, and if I hadn't been so frightened of the strange world in which it existed, I might've enjoyed staying there.

I walked over to the large window and peeked out. The moon was still hanging in the sky and I did not see the sun. But even so, the world seemed bathed in light as if there was one. Pink and blue swirled brightly in the sky, creating a curtain of torrent of neon color that floated dreamily from one side to the next. Below laid the expansive landscape of the castle's slate base, which seemed to drop off just beyond the horizon. In the day you could fully see the sprawling gardens that curved in front of and around the crystal castle.

Magnificent hydrangeas of all colors lined the paths and abutted a grove of cherry trees. All of it was shored by rows and rows of green shrubs that carved out various paths through the garden like a maze. Everything was draped in a pastel hue that looked positively otherworldly.

A knock on the door jolted me from my trance. I waited for someone to announce themselves—or maybe even just barge through the door—but no one stirred. A few moments later, knuckles rapped again.

I grabbed the white satin robe that had been left with my white silk nightgown and pulled it over me. Gingerly, I opened the door just a crack.

I was expecting to see Dimande, or possibly a nameless attendant, but instead I was looking at another face I recognized from years ago: Rubeus.

"Good morning, Serenity," he smiled. "Hope you slept well."

My eyes were wide. First. Dimande had come back from the dead, and now Rubeus had too. His flaming red hair was slicked back and he was dressed in a long sleeve grey tunic and forest green plans. He, too, looked much older than he had before, but unlike Dimande, he did not reverberate with power. He seemed much more subdued.

He placed his hand on the door but didn't force his way in. It seemed like he was searching for an invitation. I stepped back and pulled the knob, opening up the space between us. Despite knowing his past, I had a feeling he wasn't going to hurt me.

"May I?" He gestured to go into the room. I nodded and he crossed the threshold. "I hope you're enjoying your accommodations."

"How are you here?" I said suddenly. A smile flashed across his face and he looked around the room, avoiding my gaze.

"I'm here just as you are, Serenity." He lazily made his way over to the large window overlooking the garden and touched the sheer curtains with his fingers. "I was invited."

"I was abducted," I corrected him. He smiled again and let out a small laugh. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Not at all," his smile faded only slightly on his face, and he looked at me with an intensity I did not enjoy. "I apologize for laughing."

"How are you alive?" My voice sounded so much smaller than I had hoped. His red eyes roved over to me and danced in anticipation.

"That's an interesting question," he said. "But one I cannot answer."

Why was everyone being so cagey about this? Something in me stirred. Whatever magic brought them back to life had to be evil. If this was the case, I knew Rubeus wasn't going to tip his hand to me so easily. I had to figure out what I was dealing with.

"Are Saphir and Esmeraude here too?"

Sadness fluttered across his face. His eyes turned down and he grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it anxiously as if to center himself. He began pacing around the room and looked out the window once more. Asking this question had clearly struck a nerve.

"No." He sounded quiet.

"Why not?"

He stopped moving and looked at me as if he were trying to memorize me. He considered what to say, and I thought he was going to speak several times, but at each push to speak his truth he pulled back. He shook his head and finally let out a heavy sigh.

"Serenity, I wish I could tell you why but-"

"You keep calling me Serenity," I interjected. "But Dimande—he doesn't. Why?"

"You're very perceptive." He smiled coyly. " But again, I can't tell you why."

"Who can?" I sounded a bit more desperate than I had planned, but I was swirling in anxiety.

"In due time Dimande will reveal his motivations to you," he said.

Anger bloomed in my chest. It seemed Dimande was still the ultimate puppeteer. Rubeus most likely remained a captor in his master's castle just as I did. Dimande was a sick and twisted man, and it made my stomach churn thinking he had some use for me like I was some expendable tool. Even hearing his name made me seethe.

"I never want to speak to him again."

"That's going to be hard to do, considering he is the master of this house." Rubeus's face grew cold. "I suggest you listen to him and do as you are told."

"I will never, ever help him," I doubled-down.

"I would not recommend refusing his offer," Rubeus said. His eyes were grim as he said it, warning me that if I continue to press him, I might no longer be speaking with this calm and collected version of my former foe.

"Or what?"

"Serenity, my dear, I think you already know," he said. As he spoke, a shiver shot down my spine. Was he implying Dimande would kill me? He turned to the door and slowly walked over to it as if he was holding something back from me. Before he opened it to leave, he turned to me with a severity that cut through me.

"I just came to say hello," he said. "I'll see you again soon."

And with that, he continued out and pressed the door shut behind him.

As soon as I heard the click of the handle, it felt as if the thickness of the atmosphere had eased. I let out a deep breath of relief. How had he and Dimande managed to come back to life, whereas Saphir and Esmeraude apparently had not?

I sat back down on the bed and tried to center myself. Something about this place made me feel strange—and it wasn't just the fact that I was on an alien planet in a dimension I was unsure of. There was an almost mournful-like vibration that thrummed through the walls. Rubeus' face had it too; a sweltering of sadness dripped from him with every word he spoke.

Maybe that's why he seemed so calm. When I first met him, he was radiating energy and—in his own way—charisma. Seeing the look in his eyes, it was clear that the spark within him had dulled. Something had broken him. Wherever we were, I got the sense he didn't want to be here either.

My fingers rubbed my sternum. My crystal was gone.

The helplessness I felt anchored me to the floor. I had to at least try and do something because sitting around here waiting for the next person to come and deliver pointless exposition just wouldn't do.

I cursed myself for going lax on my training. Thanks to being naturally thin, I hadn't needed to do any sort of rigorous exercise in years, and I most certainly hadn't transformed into Sailor Moon during that time either. What was the point? The only reason to transform into her now was to relive some of my glory days, and even that was too depressing for me.

I stood up again and moved to the center of the room. Extending my hand upward, I focused all the energy within me into my temple and let out heady breaths through my mouth. Honestly, I didn't have much hope it would work—but I had to try.

"Moon...Prism…" I paused and clamped my eyes shut, praying my body would have any response. "Power!"

I waited for a moment, but nothing happened. I didn't even feel anything. Not even a drip of power surged through me as I tried to transform, and my fears were confirmed: The only chance I had to hold my own against the mystical forces of this castle was to transform into Sailor Moon, and without the silver millennium crystal, that was impossible.

I tried a few more times, but it was all in vain. Each thrust of my hand into the air brought no different result. The last time I tried, my voice cracked and the hollowness of it surprised even me. Desperation was flowing through my bones and my skin started to itch. I tried to steady myself with deep, calming breaths, but my anxiety was spiking wildly.

For the first time since I arrived, I couldn't hold back my tears. I had been so consumed by the question of how that I hadn't taken time to actually process the question of why. What could they possibly want the crystal for now? My mind thought back to when I first met the Black Moon Clan.

They had been manipulated by the Wiseman to believe the crystal was a thing of evil, and that Queen Serenity of the future was using it to make her subjects immortal. Dimande and his minions were just pawns in Wiseman's hands then, naively trusting the evil being to lead them down a more righteous path. But it was possible that when Dimande and his cronies finally saw the power of the crystal, they saw opportunity.

Had they come to know its true power and crave it for themselves? Did they learn nothing from Wiseman's demise?

A knock at the door jolted me from my own thoughts once more. Whoever was on the other side didn't wait for me to say anything before swinging the door open slightly. Dimande. I scowled. He was the last person I wanted to see, but I should've expected he would come. He probably sent Rubeus as the warm-up.

"Good morning, Usagi," his voice was low and cool, but sugary sweet at the same time. He enjoyed that I was his captive. Behind him trailed a silver serving cart that floated in mid-air. The way it moved, you'd think it was almost human. It twisted and turned as if it were make of flesh and blood—as if the metal it was made of was malleable—and as it came to the ground, the dishes on it clanged against one another. On top were mountains upon mountains of pastries, bowls of multi-colored fruit and a tea kettle adorned with saucers for cream and sugar. The cart moved itself over to the small desk facing the window and the plates holding the food expelled themselves into the air and levitated down to the table.

In awe I watched as the dishes shifted around one another. Spoons dipped themselves into bowls, the kettle hovered above a cup and poured boiling hot water into it as a spoon heaped in sugar cubes. The buttery crusts of the various pastries glistened in the light coming from the window.

All of the smells wafting from the cart made my mouth water. It had been several hours since I had eaten anything, and as much as I wanted to dive into this food, I knew I had to keep my wits about me. I couldn't trust Dimande or his delectable cuisine—at least, not yet.

"What do you want?" I said, trying to break my gaze away from the delicious buffet.

"That's no way to greet your gracious host," he said softly, his eyes flickering from the food back over to me.

"Host?" I sneered. "Is that what you consider yourself? You kidnapped me and are now keeping me here like a prisoner."

"I see no bars," he smiled motioning to the windows. "And I know for a fact you checked to see last night if your door was locked."

Blood rushed to my face. I swallowed hard and tried to hide my surprise. "Then let me go home."

"Eventually, I will return you to Earth," he said. "But before I return you, I need you to help me fulfill a promise."

"I won't do it," I said.

"We shall see." He had an air of confidence about him that I hated, but I could also sense a lingering sense of desperation in his voice. Maybe if I could poke the bear...

"After all this time—even after realizing all you lost because of Wiseman—I hoped you would've learned your lesson that being evil is wrong."

"If only it was so black and white, Usagi," he sighed, "It's never so simple."

"Being on the side of good is the easiest thing in the world if you just try," I said. "I'm disappointed you haven't figured that out yet."

He let out a low laugh. A piece of hair had gotten loose from his ponytail and he gently pushed it back behind his ear. He took a deep breath and examined himself in the large mirror, though he didn't seem overly impressed or concerned with his appearance. In the reflection he caught me staring, so I quickly turned away.

"You think good and evil are so binary—that when you turn to good, you're absolved of all your bad behavior. But repenting for your sins always comes at a cost," he said. "Remember how I died? To save you?"

My heart stopped. It was true: He had taken a blast from Wiseman intended for me. Once he had become aware of his master's deception, he turned on him. His good deed had cost him his life. Clearly he regretted that choice in some sense, otherwise he would never be asking for the silver millennium crystal, the same thing that had caused him such anguish.

"Good people make bad decisions every single day," he said, his voice solemn. "Including you."

There was a knowing in his voice that I did not like. Did he know about Mamoru? Did he know that I felt a sense of agony for feeling like we needed to break up, even though our future was already written in the stars? He crossed over to the table and ran his fingers across the back of the chair.

"You need to eat," he said.

"I won't eat until you release me," I said. He smiled at this and picked up an apple. Bringing it to his lips, he took a bite. The crunch sounded like a bone cracking and his eyes closed as he dug in, his expression heavy and lustful. Juice from the fruit dripped down the side of his mouth, and when he got done chewing he greedily licked his lips. Doused in the sweet nectar, my eyes were fixated on them: Red and plump. His gaze met mine and the deep purple of his eyes connected in a way that sent shockwaves through my body.

After taking just one taste, he placed it on the table—a huge chunk of its red flesh now ripped from it.

"Then you shall go hungry," he smiled, heading for the door.

I said nothing as he exited, instead my gaze was locked onto the half-bitten apple. It taunted me like an omen, a warning that I was dealing with a man who liked to play with his food.