Note from the Author:

[Due to complaints about the length of the chapters, I have decided to sort them into shorter ones.]

This is my first fan-fiction since "Crossroads in Life," and it's completely different. Recently inspired by the 25th Anniversary of Sailor Moon, I found myself fascinated with the Silver Millennium storyline. From that love, a story formed in my head.

I wanted to dig deeper into questions that were never fully answered in the manga or anime. Through fan-fiction, I have the opportunity to create my own answers to those questions. Some of my biggest questions were "Who exactly was Beryl and how did she become who she was?" and "Did Beryl know Endymion or simply obsess over him from afar?" In this tale, I will begin with Beryl (describing her as how she was initially drawn in the manga); she will set up this world from which my story will be told.

However, this story didn't feel right without also focusing on Endymion and Serenity. Even more questions came, "How did Endymion feel about being the heir to the throne?" and "When and how did Serenity enter the picture?" Therefore, I will go deeper into Endymion's life and how his love for Serenity impacted the entire world of the Silver Millennium and changed Beryl's life.

This is a story of love, hope, jealousy, pain, and, most of all, loss. I hope you find this story interesting and beautiful.

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If There Be Light, Then There Be Darkness

Written by Princess Kayla

Inspired by Naoko Takeuchi's "Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon"

Chapter One - Scars From a Broken Childhood

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"No matter what you hear, remain quiet and still. Do not come out until I say," she commanded in a low whisper. The rug she draped across the cracks covered the little light that came through.

Then the sounds came - the door breaking open, scuffling, yelling...her mother's scream. Even though she could not see anything, Beryl clinched her eyes shut in fear. The silence that followed was unbearable. She desperately wished that her mother would pull back the rug, open the floor, and sigh, 'It is safe now, my sweet one.' But, she never came back; no one ever came.

Beryl could not remember how long she remained in the hiding spot, but it felt like days. Finally, she went against her mother's command and pushed against the boards as quietly as she could manage. She expected to see light, but instead there was darkness - night. She held her breath as she lifted herself out of the hole, trying to control every noise she made. As her sight came into focus, she observed her home, now unrecognizable. She stepped over furniture and broken dishes to the door. She grabbed a cloak from the hanger on the wall and draped it around herself, covering her head.

It was cold as she made her way down the main road. She was only ten years old at the time and never ventured out at night alone. She pulled the cloak tighter at the front. She wondered where her family had been taken and why. Suddenly, the smell of smoke caught her nose; she could tell it was coming from the town square. Her pace increased. The hair on the back of her neck began to rise. She turned the corner into the square, and her heart and feet stopped. Before her were two stakes surrounded by previously burnt wood; on the stakes were two limp bodies strapped tightly, steam rising from their flesh. Beryl knew who they were. She knew what had been done to them. Abruptly, bile filled her throat, and she braced herself against a shop wall to cough up the vomit.

"I am guessing that you missed the main show." Beryl looked to see a rag extended in front of her. She followed it up to the face of an older woman. Taking the rag, Beryl muttered a weak 'thank you.' The woman looked back to the awful sight. "The screams weren't the worst part. It was the smell. Horrible."

Beryl covered her mouth and swallowed the rising lump in her throat. "Why...what happened here?" she whimpered.

"I did not know the two women personally, but I kept up with the stories," she shared with disgust clinging to her words, "Supposedly, they were witches. Evil ones. They would often cast hexes on the locals."

"Hexes?" Beryl was shocked. Her mother and grandmother were good women - not witches. They practiced sorcery but not for malevolent purposes. She recalled watching her mother wave her hand to the sky to clear away angry storm clouds, and her grandmother who would make special potions for curing the sick. They used their abilities, the gifts passed down through the women of every generation in their family, to help and care for those in need. To Beryl, her mother and grandmother were the two most beautiful women in the world.

"I do not understand." Beryl's heart ached severely.

"From what I have heard, three days ago, the younger woman cursed Shouta, the butcher. People say that the woman was angry with the butcher when he refused to supply her with the meat she demanded. I do not know why he refused her, but allegedly, she told him that he should expect to find himself, and anyone else who eats the meat, incredibly ill. Yesterday, Shouta started vomiting uncontrollably and choked to death. The townsfolk said that the woman was responsible."

Beryl shook her head. She remembered, three days ago, that her mother had returned home without the meat for dinner. When they asked her why, she said that the meat had come from a rabid cow; her mother was always able to sense those sorts of things. She tried to convince the butcher of this, but was brushed aside. Knowing her mother's side of the story and, now, hearing another, Beryl understood. Her mother, known for her family of 'witches,' was wrongly accused. The butcher must have died from food poisoning, but no one would have believed that.

Beryl's anger began to boil. "Where were the guards during all of this?" she spit out.

"I saw them. The mob was so large, and our town has such a limited number of guards," the woman shrugged as if the whole incident was not important, as if the murders did not matter.

Beryl knew then what she had to do. Eventually, the townspeople would learn who she was. She had to leave. Quickly, she turned from the woman and ran back to her house. Beryl shuffled through the mess in her home, collecting whatever she could into a large rucksack. She tried to collect all of the necessities needed for leaving the town.

Swinging the bag over her shoulder, she looked around the room with a heavy heart. She knew she needed one more thing before she left. She went to the desk in the corner of the room. She curled her hand around the back, right post and found a wooden button. Pushing it caused a hidden shelf to fall down from under the desk. Carefully, Beryl lifted the old, worn book from the secret compartment. The book was her family's most treasured possession. In it, Beryl's magical heritage was recorded, and that heritage had to be protected.

Beryl hugged the book and let one soft tear fall from her left eye. She allowed no more than that. The women in her family had always been strong and in control of their emotions. Her grandmother explained to her that controlling one's emotions is crucial in sorcery. When emotions are unchecked, the powers can go awry.

With that one tear, she left the house and made her way into the darkness. She was not sure where to go, but she was definitely not heading back towards the town square. Instead she headed down the opposite road.

The sun rose and the sun fell, but Beryl kept her pace strong. Her town disappeared many hours ago, and now, walls of trees surrounded her. The average person would have been emotionally exhausted by now, but she was not. She was determined to walk on, but the darkness of the night was overwhelming. She paused, reached down, and grabbed a leaf from the road. Taking it in her hand, she said, "Ignis," meaning fire. Nothing happened. Scrunching her brow, she repeated, sternly, "Ignis." Nothing. "Ignis!" Still nothing. She dropped her hand and collected herself. Lifting it once more, she closed her eyes and slowly breathed, "Ignis." Her eyes opened to see the leaf on fire, but it did not burn her hand. The light lit up her path, but her face was also lit up with satisfaction in herself. She made a vow to herself to grow in her abilities and, perhaps, someday, show the kingdom how wrong they were about that power. 'Somehow. Some way.' Beryl swore sternly.

Her pace slowed. Sleep began to catch up with her as she watched the moon rise. She did not want to, but she stopped and stepped to the side of the road. Gathering some sticks and leafs, she made a smile pile and placed the burning leaf upon it. The pile lit up with warmth. She sat down next to it and clutched the bag as tightly to herself as possible. She would rest, just for a moment...

...

"Girl, are you alright?" Beryl's eyes slowly opened. She had to squint against the bright light. A blurred figure stood before her. Beryl looked to the ground and noticed that her pile of leafs had completely disintegrated. "Girl? Can you understand what I'm saying?" Beryl looked again and the blurred figure became a man dressed in the modest attire of a farmer. "Girl?"

She blinked, "I apologize, Sir. I must have drifted off."

He looked around, "Where are your parents?"

"I have no family, Sir."

"Oh." The man frowned, "Where are you heading?"

"That way," Beryl pointed in the direction opposite from her town. 'How far away am I now?' she wondered.

The man rubbed the back of his neck in consideration. Beryl noted for the first time the mule and buggy behind him. He sighed, "Well, I'm heading to the palace in hopes of selling some of my goods for the big gathering." He motioned to the buggy that was stacked high with crates of carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables. "That's a day's journey, and I don't plan on making any stops. You can tag along if you want."

Beryl quickly rose to her feet, "I appreciate your kindness."

He smiled, "Hop on into the back. You can pick something to eat from my load. I do not expect a little thing like you eating up all my goods." He laughed.

Beryl smiled weakly as they both made their way to the buggy. She crawled into the back with her belongings and smelled the earthy produce. Not able to contain herself, she quickly bit into one of the carrots; she could not remember her last meal.

The man hopped up to his place in the front, gave the reins a snap and whistled. The mule whinnied and headed on with a steady pace. Beryl and the man did not converse, but he began to hum an unrecognizable song, which made her drift yet again into a deep sleep...

...

Her scream was excruciating; it made her ears bleed. "Stop it!" Beryl screamed, "Stop this madness! She is innocent! You do not know what you are doing!"

"Burn her! Burn her!" the crowd demanded. "Burn the witch!" They all yelled in unison over and over.

Beryl's lungs began to fill with smoke, her throat clenching in pain. Tears slipped out of her stinging eyes as she slammed them shut. She could not breathe. It hurt. Everything hurt. Suddenly, her skin felt as if it was melting off. She screamed as she opened her eyes and saw that she was tied to the stake next to her mother. The fire grew higher by the second. She looked at her mother in desperation, "Mother! What do we do?! It hurts so much! Mother!"

Suddenly, everything quieted. There was no more shouting, no more sparking of the fire, not even the sound of the wind. Her mother turned to her, locking eyes with her. In a stern, steady voice, she said, "We make them pay. Beryl, someday, show them your true power. Make them pay."

"Mother!" she gasped as the fire engulfed them both.

...

Beryl jumped awake, realizing that it was a cruel and wicked nightmare. She gazed around at the town, bustling with people. Looking ahead, she saw the great stonewalls that glittered with gold. Just over the top of the walls, she could see a great castle. The Golden Palace of Elysion - she never imagined getting to see it, but here she was.

"Good morning, girl. You slept the entire trip, a whole day," the man said as he stopped his mule on the side of the street. "This is as far as I go. You going to be alright?" Beryl nodded and climbed down from the buggy. "Wait. Take this," he handed her a small sack. "Some food."

Beryl took the bag and bowed, "Thank you so much. For everything." The man went on his way, deeper into town. Tugging her bag higher onto her back, Beryl looked about the town. People were busy auctioning off their goods or chatting with one another. 'What should I do now?' she thought. 'I guess I will stay here for a bit, but I need some sort of means to care for myself.' She lifted the small bag that the man had given her, 'This was a generous gift, but it won't last me forever.'

Beryl made her way down the road, asking the stand owners for any work available, but each brushed her off. "No work here. If you will not be buying anything, head on your way."

So, she continued from place to place until she noticed a small shop with a sign above the door reading, 'Bookshop.' Beryl entered and a bell sounded. The smell of old books filled the air. There were several bookshelves for such a small building, and each one was filled. She walked up and ran her fingers across some of the book spines.

"Oh!" An old woman exclaimed as she stepped in the room from a door in the back, "I thought I heard the door open. Welcome, my dear. How may I assist you?"

"I am just looking," Beryl sighed.

The woman noticed the dirt on Beryl's clothes and face. She noted her large bag, weighing down her left side. "Are you new to our town?"

"Yes," she replied, "I just arrived."

"Where is your family?" the woman asked.

Beryl flinched, recalling her mother's face from the nightmare. "I have no family. They recently passed away."

The old woman placed a hand over her heart, "Oh my, I am so sorry, my dear." She did not feel it was her place to ask the circumstances in which they died because she recalled what it was like when she had lost her husband in a riding accident. In a single moment, he was gone, and now only his shop remained as a reminder of her life with him. She could have sold it years ago, but the thought of letting go made her heart ache. So, she kept it, doing her best to run it without him. She thought for a moment, and pondered over the small, lonely girl. "Young one, do you need work?"

With surprise, Beryl replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

"I cannot provide you with much, but I do have a small room upstairs and meals for work well done," she explained.

Relief washed over Beryl. "That would be so wonderful, Ma'am. I will do whatever you need."

"Very well then. My name is Calla," she smiled.

"My name is Beryl." Beryl turned at the sound of loud laughter ringing out as a group rushed by the window. They were waving flags in the air. "Everyone seems so happy."

Calla walked to the window to look out at the people. "Tomorrow is the Prince's birthday so the whole town is getting ready for the celebration."

'The Prince?' Beryl pondered and then asked, "The whole town is invited?"

"In a way," Calla shrugged, "Not everyone can attend the actual party; mainly only the nobles get to, but our King and Queen are kind. They call for all the townspeople to set their work aside in honor of the event. They want us to enjoy our own celebrations, so what you see right now is the excitement and preparations for the parties being held tomorrow. They do this on several occasions, not just the Prince's birthday."

"My town never celebrated like this. We were too far from the actual palace to be a part of such events," Beryl stated.

"Well, since my husband has passed, I have had to have my own little celebrations by myself," Calla placed a hand on Beryl's shoulder, "but now I have you to join me." She smiled down at Beryl, and Beryl was reminded of her grandmother. The thought made her feel sick because it was so hard to remember her grandmother now without the image of her burnt body on the stake.

"Now, let me show you around the place. This is not just your place of work. This is your home." The word sounded foreign to Beryl. 'Home.' What did that mean? Everything was different now. She was different now. Beryl looked up into Calla's kind eyes. This woman was taking her in without even knowing who she was. After witnessing the horror that destroyed her family, it was hard to believe in kindness anymore. She wanted to accept this woman's sweetness, but she warned herself to keep her guard. She would live here with Calla, but she would never reveal who she truly was - the power that ran through her veins.

Beryl determined that no matter where she was, her legacy would separate her from all others. There was no true 'home' for her, not anymore. She would play a part in this world, living as though she belonged, but her focus would be on her gift and that alone. Nothing else would matter to her. Nothing.

Or so she thought.

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Final Note from the Author:

Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter (pardon any grammatical errors). Beryl's childhood left her with scars and impacted her future. Stay tuned as I dive deeper into Beryl as an adult and how a certain Prince entered her world.