Author's Note: The prompt for this chapter is an image, which can be found at: julie-rc dot deviantart dot com/art/I-m-lost-93972813

Zoisite hated the nightwatch. He knew he should be honored with such an important task. The nightwatch was the time when the rest of the palace slept, and the kingdom would be most vulnerable to an attack. That Endymion trusted him with this duty spoke volumes of the young prince's confidence in his youngest Shitennou.

That didn't make it any less boring, or any less tiring. The long, empty hours made his eyelids feel even heavier and his body even more tired. Yet he could not afford to let his attention waver for even a moment. Rumors abounded of some nameless foe that was threatening the outer lands. People were vanishing, and whole villages were turned to stone. Many patrols had been sent out, and yet there was still no sign of the enemy.

With the threat still unidentified, the watch on the castle could never sleep. Tonight, that meant Zoisite had to stay alert at all times.

Every breach of the border, no matter how minor, had to be investigated. That meant every squirrel or rabbit that came onto the palace grounds threatened to trigger a war. Zoisite was tired of being on such high alert. He trusted his intuition, and of the nearly dozen incidents of border breach in the past week, not once had he ever felt a reason to worry.

Danger was out there, but as far as he knew, it was still many leagues away.

That all changed suddenly. Before any alert sounded, Zoisite knew something was amiss. He drew his sword and set out to investigate. He may have been the youngest of the four, but he was the most adept at stealth and concealment. Whatever danger lurked out in the mists didn't stand a chance.

The first signs were mixed. He found footprints. They were small, belonging to someone slight of build, easily hidden; an assassin perhaps? Barefoot, which make them nearly silent. But they were hurried. Little thought was given to stealth. Perhaps they had known an alarm had been tripped. Haste was Zoisite's ally. Haste would make this intruder careless, and easily caught.

Still, Zoisite kept his guard up, knowing he should never underestimate a cornered opponent. They always fought more fiercely.

Something caught his ear. It could have merely been the wind, or the whisper of clothing. He caught a glimpse of something that could have been a ghost or a shimmering butterfly rounding a corner into the garden. He hurried after his quarry, into denser and denser cover, aware of some faint light just beyond his reach. He approaches a clearing, knowing that his prey will not outrun him.

But as he emerges, he is suddenly trapped in a sudden fog, to deep and thick to be penetrated. He knows he must keep his wits about him and focuses his hearing. He hears something, the swish of a leather skirt and heavy boots stepping away. He turns towards his target.

For just a moment, he thinks he can see the fog clear. He can see a silhouette; a slim woman with long legs in a scandalously short skirt. Her hair is dark, almost blue. But it is her eyes that captivate him; enchanting sapphire eyes that seem to bore into his very soul.

He has only a fleeting glance before the fog returns, and he suddenly finds himself alone. He hears another set of footsteps. This time he hears armor and steel boots walking in a pace he has studied carefully, and has come to know as well as his own name.

"My prince?"

"Zoisite?"

The General bows. "My liege, you should be in the castle, it is not safe."

"I just came to investigate the breach. I'm fine Zoisite. There appears to be no threat."

He is unsure, but Zoisite believes his prince sounds guilty, as though he is not sharing the whole truth. His curiosity is aroused. Something has happened here this night, and Zoisite intends to learn the truth.

The nightwatch was still tiring and boring, but it allowed for privacy.

Zoisite had come to love it in the intervening months.

His intuition remained as sharp as ever. He sensed the breaching of the border before any alarm sounded, and he moves to investigate before any of the guard is alerted.

He senses no danger. He knows that is not entirely true. There is great danger in his every step. Truth be told, he loves the danger.

The fog once again rolls in unexpectedly. It is so thick, that the white gloved hands covering his eyes are needless, but he still loves the contact.

"So, is Serenity curious again tonight?" he asks.

A delicate laugh seems to echo all around him.

"No. Tonight, it was only me. We Mercurians are famous for our curiosity."

He takes her hands down and brings her close.

"I intend to satisfy your curiosity."

Zoisite gripped the rail until his knuckles were white. The fear would pass, or so he kept telling himself. It was only fog.

But he could never think of fog the same way again.

He remembered when he was not Zoisite, but young Zacharie Roy, living in Bordeaux, a thousand years since the fall of the Silver Millenium. When he turned thirteen, the dreams started. He was always walking though a thick fog, chasing after something. His heart told him he was chasing something, someone, important. Sometimes, in his dreams, he would hear a whisper. Sometimes, he heard delicate laughter. And sometimes, he caught a glimpse of long legs and deep blue eyes that haunted him.

He took to walking the streets in the early morning hours when the fog rolled in from the ocean. He knew it was silly, and he wasn't about to unlock the secret of his dreams by blindly walking the city in the early hours of the morning. His mother pleaded with him not to be so careless, and that it was dangerous.

And then came the fateful morning when he turned sixteen. A feeling overtook him that today would be different. And so, he marched out into the fog. In his mind, he saw a figure in a short skirt with long legs and captivating blue eyes. Something deep in the fog caught his eye. It was the figure of a woman. Desperately, he pursued.

After that morning, young Zacharie Roy was never seen again. It was assumed he had stumbled over a bridge and fallen into the icy waters. It made more sense than a witch who had been dead a thousand years consuming his very soul.

Since his return, he felt a gnawing emptiness in his chest, coupled with a paralyzing fear. He had been unable to find any joy, and a lurking terror seemed to exist in the back of his mind. He wanted desperately to be able to feel again. He knew he had to get past the terror. So, in the early morning hours, before anyone in Crystal Tokyo had risen, Zoisite returned to the land he had called home before Chaos took him the second time, a land that, when he was whole and uncorrupted, he had been a king of. A land that, since the last battle, was tragically empty.

He came to face the fog, and to remind himself that nothing lurked in the mists. He came to remind himself that Beryl was dead and that Sailor Moon had defeated Chaos and that there were no monsters under his bed. They were only in his mind.

Despite his fear, his senses remained keen. He heard her footsteps, not clad in heavy leather boots, but simple sneakers. There was no swishing of a leather skirt. Simply the sound of jean clad legs and a warm winter jacket. He felt the fog thicken and knew that it hadn't rolled in from the ocean.

"Turn around."

"I'm afraid to."

"I know Zoisite, but you have to at some point."

He gripped the railing even harder. He was on the verge of hyperventilating. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she rested a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"I know about the dreams. I know what you're afraid of."

His secret was out. Somehow, it was of little comfort.

Her hands wrap around his stomach, and her head rests on his back. In spite of the cold, he can feel a little warmth seep into him. His breathing slows, becoming more even.

"It's okay. She's gone. We won't let anything happen to you."

He takes a deep breath. "I want to believe that. But I don't deserve your protection."

"Maybe not, but you have it anyway. I've forgiven you."

The words cut him deeper than the blades they fought with a thousand years ago. He knows he should be grateful for the forgiveness, but for the moment, it seems only to deepen his guilt. He is cursed, separated from his heart, unable to find joy in his life. It is driving him mad.

Reluctantly, she pulls away and begins to leave. He can still feel a bit of her warmth against his back. He uses it as the courage to finally turn around.

It is as though she feels him, because as soon as he does, she stops and turns around. A sad smile graces her lips.

"You turned around. That's very good."

Her sapphire eyes captivate him once again. For a moment, he is lost in them, as though it is a thousand years ago, and no blood has been spilled. Unfortunately, he returns to the present.

"I'll be here when you're ready Zoisite. I'm not giving up on you."

And with that, she disappears into the fog.

Once again, he is consumed by the mists. He must rely on his other senses. Still as keen as ever, he can hear her footsteps. He stills the gnawing emptiness in his chest, and the terror underneath. But he also still hears her words in his ears, and makes his decision.

Once again, he steps into the fog, and he follows.