Dimande

As the hellhounds continued their merciless assault, I caught a glimpse of Pitre retreating. I grabbed my brother's arm, pulling him with me as Pitre sprinted through the smoke until suddenly I lost sight of him. All was not lost, though—he had driven us right to the doors of his castle.

Behind us was roaring light and cracks, howls from injured hellhounds and booms from the spells the Sailor Scouts were casting. With Esmeraude and Rubeus on their side, I did not worry about leaving them to fend for themselves. Nothing would stop until Pitre was forced to retreat. We had to make it so.

Saphir pulled at the large crystal doors. They were towering and jet black, an even grander version of the ones on the castle he built next to the River. Anger swirled in me. How could I have been so stupid to fall for the tricks of an evil man? How had I been so blind to Pitre?

My hands fell to the large bar that acted as a handle. I wanted to rip it clear off. The crystal finish was so smooth and beautiful, even in the thick fog it seemed to shine with light. Imagine if he had just used his power for something else. Imagine the world he could've built. It filled me with rage.

The door was incredibly heavy and moved at a snail's pace—that is until we got it open enough to crest the threshold of the doorway. Then, as if we had said some magic word, it moved open on its own, revealing a massive entryway. In this room, the smoke was significantly less congested—it was wispy and frail, breaking easily against our bodies as we passed through it.

A slight chill was in the air. I examined the room, my back to my brother's. Where had Pitre gone?

"It might not be wise for us to do this alone," Saphir said tentatively. "We should get Rubeus and Esmeraude."

"No," I said. "They need to stay out there and help the Sailor Scouts. The hellhounds will not cease until Pitre is killed, and he's going to keep sending them and holding the larger group back."

Saphir nodded and slowly we made our way to the back of the room. We had followed Pitre in here, chased him back into the depths of this strange place to get a chance to clasp our hands around his neck and snap it, but our plan was quickly foiled once the smoke started to shift from a translucent mist to an opaque wall.

Red eyes dotted the smoke and they kept coming over and over again. Despite this, they did not strike. They merely watched as we watched them. I put up my hand instinctively to fight, but my brother motioned for me to stay back. We were gravely outnumbered, if we struck first, it could lead to a disastrous assault. We had to make a plan but there wasn't enough time.

We crept through the smoke, our vision obscured by it, and the pulsating gaze of the hellhounds was hard to ignore. I reached out my hand again, fully intending on throwing the first stone, but I was interrupted. Two doors swung open, revealing an even larger ballroom lined with odd statues made of marble. It was darker here, and dancing in the fog was light refracting through.

"What an odd place," Saphir said as he inspected the walls. "I thought for certain he would make a circus tent."

"I don't know, it doesn't seem like his memories of the Dead Moon Circus are all that positive." I tried to stifle a chuckle. "Makes me feel sorry for the guy."

"He didn't deserve his circumstance, but he also should've never tried to alter reality with magic." Saphir looked at me then, his eyes telling me he wasn't just talking about Pitre. "Some things are meant to stay in the past."

He didn't need to say it. Bitterness soured on his face even as he desperately tried to conceal it from me. I couldn't blame him. Without me, none of this would have ever happened.

"Are you angry with me for my role in this?" I asked.

Saphir didn't respond, not immediately. He looked at me with this heavy sadness in his eyes, questions burning. It had only been a day or so since we left Pitre's castle and arrived on Earth. All the while, he had not brought up my folly. In those hours we waited, we bridged many topics: Our time in the River, Saphir meeting Nehelenia, the details of Pitre's sad life. But we never discussed what probably was the most important thing: The animosity boiling between us.

"I am angry at you, Dimande," Saphir said quietly. "I am angry at you for several reasons, none of which I think you can understand."

"Try me."

His jaw clenched while he considered what to say.

"Did you do what you did because you wanted to save us or because you wanted to save yourself?"

The question was a slap in the face. Rubeus had said practically the same thing to me in Pitre's castle. How could they not see that this was a way for us to get back something we lost? How could they not understand that I had to do this for them?

"It was for us, Saphir." I walked toward him. "For me and you and mother. For Esmeraude and Rubeus."

He shook his head. "Dimande, look deep down in yourself and find the truth. This wasn't about us, it was about you and the guilt you felt. It was about reclaiming something that was taken from you. Did you not feel peace in the River? Was that not enough?"

I tried to remember what it felt like to be in the River, but the feeling was so fleeting. Peace wasn't how I would describe it. Numbness, maybe. An out of body strangeness that made me feel both light and heavy. There was nothing freeing about being in the River, at least, if there was, I did not feel it.

"I remember feeling lost, Saphir," I said, my honesty taking me by surprise. "I remember feeling empty. I do not remember peace."

"You're always looking for the next thing to satiate you without thinking of how it might hurt you. Fools would call that optimism, but I call it a lack of self awareness." Saphir placed his hands on my shoulders. "When you tried to save us, you were willing to overlook the obvious. You were willing to bare your soul to Pitre, let him manipulate you at the drop of a hat and then conceive this foolish plan to, what, get Usagi to love you? To start over the Black Moon Clan?"

"It's more complicated than that."

"Is it?" His face ebbed in concern. "What would we do if the Black Moon Clan rose again, Dimande? Where would we live? How would we feed them and house them? How would our society be set up? How would we cure the ills of having driven them to death in the first place? And what of Usagi? Do you really think you're what's best for her?"

Usagi. I didn't know if I was the best for her—I didn't know if I could make her happy for the rest of her life—but I knew I was willing to try. It was more than anyone else could say.

"I love her, Saphir," my voice cracked.

"I know you do, brother. But sometimes love is not enough."

Fog started swirling again, breaking our attention from one another to the greater room. Two large doors at the back of the room cracked open on their own, a strange invitation inviting us in. A piercing laugh echoed around us, a sinister cackle that left my skin feeling cold. Pitre—or maybe, one of his clowns.

Carefully, we walked through the doors. Inside it was pitch black.

"We need to be prepared," Saphir said, holding his hands up in defense.

I raised my hands, too, letting light pulsate from my palm as a beacon. Despite my power, the light was not very strong, only casting a path a few feet in front of us. We crept inside, continuing forward inch by inch, our path barely illuminated. When I heard the doors slam behind us, I felt my stomach drop.

The cackling grew louder and then multiplied. One voice was met by two, and then by three. The laughs devolved into growls and the sound was so loud it felt like a thrashing in my ears. I knew if I put my hand to my head, the light would die out, so I fought it hard, gritting my teeth as the scratching and screeching pierced my eardrum.

Suddenly, it stopped, replaced instead by an echo of ringing.

Dozens of red eyes poked through the black. Hellhounds. My head was spinning but I steadied myself on the floor. I held my breath, preparing for them to attack, but nothing happened. They just stared back at us, unmoving, unending.

"Why aren't they doing anything?" I whispered to Saphir. He shook his head.

The eyes clamped shut. Overhead, lights clicked on, revealing a huge circle. Around it were large posts jutting up from the sides, reaching all the way into the ceiling. The ring was painted bright red and around it were rows upon rows of benches. It was a circus ring. It dawned on me: The eyes that had opened and closed, they were the ghosts of Pitre's kind. They were the audience and we were in the center.

At the farthest end from us sat a large throne, gilded in gold and sitting straight in the ring. Under the lights it was shining.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Saphir said to me quietly.

I didn't, either. This place was more than eerie, it was so still and silent and yet teeming with a negative energy that swirled all through it, as if this place itself was alive. Pitre's lifeblood was flowing through this very structure, chomping at the bit to consume us and spit us out. We paced the edges of the ring, almost willing him to reveal himself.

After a few moments, a muffled scream came from outside the door we had come through. We both turned to it before rushing over. The door was locked and Saphir tried to jostle it open. The screams were becoming clearer and clearer now.

"Sailor Moon!" Someone yelled—a woman's voice—joined by another. And then it was his voice. Mamoru. He was screaming, too. Usagi. Something had happened to her. A click sounded in the door and it flung open, revealing the large ballroom we had been in just a few minutes before. Standing in a circle were the sailor scouts. Their heads turned to us.

Mamoru rushed first, sprinting toward me until his hands were at my collar. He thrust up, pulling my feet off the floor.

"What did you do to her?" He screamed. My fingers gripped over his as I tried to break free. "Why did you do this?"

"Mamoru!" A dark green-haired woman shouted, immediately going to him and pulling at his back. "Dimande didn't take her—Pitre did!"

"I don't care!" He shouted, his face turning red. "If he hadn't have come—"

The green-haired woman pulled him back and he finally released me.

"None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for you!"

A short-haired blonde woman joined in the fray, holding Mamoru back as he continued to lunge.

"Don't focus on that now!" She commanded. "We have to find where he took her."

"He took her?" My voice was so small. "How?"

The scouts looked at me, scowls drawn on each of their faces. I wasn't surprised by their indignation. If anything, I deserved it. But couldn't they see I was just trying to help? If I had truly wanted Pitre's evil plan to play out the way it did—if I had truly been in on his end goal this entire time—I wouldn't have joined them in the fight. I would've let him take her just like he wanted.

"Pitre appeared and took her from—" The blonde said coldly.

"Uranus, don't give him the satisfaction," Mamoru interjected.

Uranus looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. Something like disappointment and annoyance flashed across her expression.

"We're all in this together now, Mamoru," she said smoothly. "He can help us."

From behind, Rubeus and Esmeraude appeared. I was so glad to see them alive. The scouts watched as they walked toward Saphir and I, cautiously waiting for something to combust. When it didn't, everyone's shoulders relaxed. We looked to one another, everyone's lips pursing and opening as if to speak.

Mamoru's breath was steadying but his eyes burned holes through my skin. Part of me wanted to lash out at him, to make him feel the pain he made Usagi feel, but it seemed useless now. Driving a dagger in his back wouldn't do much. To find Usagi meant to surrender to him, at least for now, because he held the favor of the scouts, not me. Without him, this battle would be inconceivable.

An olive branch was appropriate in this situation. Easy, too. Apologizing to him, though, was not just smoothing over a wrinkle in an otherwise insignificant relationship. He stood opposite me. He was light and I was dark, and I wanted to take the shiniest toy in his collection. To say I was sorry would be a lie and he knew it. To gain his trust, I had to go another way, and I was determined to take whatever path led me back to Usagi.

"Pitre was once in the River, he was meant to die." A younger, black haired girl wearing purple said to no one in particular. "He was destined to Hell. If he used dark magic to get out of going there, I can't imagine the Guardian of Hell is going to be too happy about that."

"The Guardian of Hell?" I asked.

"Yes," she looked at me. "Your brother should know about her, I assume?"

Saphir nodded his head. Esmeraude shivered.

"She is a demon that protects the souls in Hell. I met her when I was there." Saphir looked away.

"Saturn, you can't seriously, be thinking about going to Hell?" Uranus was gobsmacked. "That is such a dangerous idea."

"It's really not," Saturn tucked a piece of her black hair behind her ear. "She and I are connected in many ways. And while I've never met her, in my soul I know her. If we were to go there and tell her of what Pitre's done she might be able to help."

"I'm coming with you," Mamoru said.

"Me, too," I quickly added. Mamoru leered.

"Now hold on," the dark-greened hair woman interjected. "Let's think about this."

"There's nothing to think about, Pluto," Uranus said. "We're going."

"No," Saturn held out her hand in protest. "I'm going. Some of us need to stay here and protect the castle, make sure if for some reason Usagi reappears that she has help."

The larger group of sailor scouts shifted forward. Some I recognized from before, but they all looked so much older. Venus, Mars, Mercury and Jupiter.

"I will stay," Mars said first.

"Me, too," Venus quickly added. And soon, the others were content in staying. I turned to Saturn, who was looking at Pluto, almost asking permission to choose whom to bring.

"Alright," Pluto relented. "Saturn, take Mamoru, Dimande and Saphir. They might be helpful to you. I will come as well, we can use my magic to travel to that realm."

And then, it was decided. Myself, Mamoru, my brother and Saturn shifted toward Pluto as she held up her staff. From the red orb at its top a brilliant white light glowed, beaming out and piercing the dark and swirling smoke. The faces staring at us started to shift and separate, and then I felt the powerful pull of force as we shifted out of his dimension and into the next. When we reappeared, we were standing in front of the mouth of an incredibly large cave.

The rock surrounding it jutted out. The steep, sloping sides created spear-like peaks. The air was a strange blue and teal, smokey and heavy. Mist swirled around the grey rock, drifting up and reflecting in a strange light that hung all around—it came from no one direction. At the mouth of the cave, deep purple stalagmites rose almost like a gate guarding whatever was inside.

A cold chill wrapped around me and my heart started to race.

This was not how I pictured Hell. Though, standing in front of this ominous mountainside, I realized I had never given it much thought. I always assumed once someone died, their light went black and their mind became nothing. In the River I discovered otherwise. Why, then, was I surprised that Hell was not a place lit in flame where evil souls went to rest?

"Helheim," Saturn shouted into the cave. "I am here to speak with you."

From the darkness, a pair of footsteps rang. Out from the shadows, a cloaked woman appeared dressed all in white. Her face and head were covered by a large hood, only revealing tendrils of long blonde hair that cascaded off her shoulders. Along her arms were billowing sleeves that hid her hands underneath.

"What is it you seek, Sailor Saturn?"

Saturn approached with a confidence that made me envious. She tipped her glaive and then bowed her head to Helheim.

"An evil being named Pitre is terrorizing our world and we have to stop him, but his power is far too incredible," she said. "We know he escaped from the River. We wanted to see if you could be of any assistance."

She nodded her head slowly, considering Saturn's words.

"Yes, Pitre, he escaped his fate here in Hell." She unsheathed long, skeletal fingers. Was she alive or dead? Each bone glisted in the aqua glow encapsulating us. "There is much hatred in his heart."

"There is," Saturn replied. "And now he's taken our Princess, and without her, our galaxy will be unsafe from evil forces. It is imperative we get her back unscathed."

Helheim nodded once more, her bony fingers locking together in front of her stomach. As she shifted, her robe revealed more of her. She was not made of skin. She was only made of bone. But her face was still obscured. I was dying to see it.

"I see you've brought another one of my subjects to me. Saphir, it is good to see you."

Without saying anything, he bowed his head.

"I know it is not your fault you were expelled from my grasp, and for that I will not punish you," Helheim said softly. "But know the next time you enter the River, you shall not be so lucky."

"So there is a way to throw those souls Pitre revived back into the River then?" Saturn asked hopefully.

"As you know, the River is not the end destination of any one person. We all float there until it is our judgement day, and we either ascend to the Final Plane or to Hell. It is against the laws of our world to interrupt the flow of souls wherever they may land."

Even while I was floating in the River, I had never considered exactly where I would end up. Looking at Helheim, I was overcome with curiosity. Was Hell a place the evil went to burn? Or was it a mere collection of souls who were not pure enough to reach the Final Plane? My brother and I had been no saints during our time with the Black Moon Clan, but I did not think us evil enough to be thrown into Hell.

There's something to be said about being the hero of your own story and the villain in the next. What is right is in the eye of the beholder more often than not. How, then, can anyone find peace in the Final Plane? How is anyone expected to find a moving target of morality?

"How can we bring Pitre back to where he belongs?" Saturn asked.

"There is light, one that will shine, and bring him to his knees, but it will not be mine."

A strange understanding fell on us all. Helheim could not help us fight a battle that we were poised to complete. Somehow, we had to find our way and destroy Pitre, but how? He seemed too powerful, too equipped to crush us under the weight of his hatred. Feeling pity for myself was not going to undo all the wrong I had caused. My brother and I were supposed to flow into the River of Souls and spend the rest of our eternity there and our revival from it had put the universe off balance. Something had to be done to right this wrong.

I had been a man surrounded in darkness for so long, and yet, I too, longed for the light.