Chapter Three: Memories

      

 

 

            Mamoru and Usagi walked, hand-in-hand through Tokyo.  Bunny spent the time chattering away happily, and he endured it silently. It was a calm, clear autumn afternoon, and the pale shadows of cotton-candy clouds floated serenely across the pale, water-colored sky. The just-turned leaves fluttered in the light breeze, a few releasing their tenuous grip on their respective branches and drifting lazily across the two’s path. It was, arguably, a perfect day. Mamoru paused in his thinking. They seemed to be having a lot of those. Perfect days, that is. And frankly, it was beginning to get on his nerves. Couldn’t they have a thunderstorm every now and again? Preferably one that wasn’t caused by denizens of an alternate universe or some dark moon faction from the future, naturally, but real rain anyway. He’d even settle for a light drizzle. Unseasonably cold weather, perhaps? Was it really too much to ask?

          Mamoru sighed. No sense in pursuing that line of thought. He seemed to be blessed with perfect days for the rest of his life. Oh, well, he reasoned. Might as well enjoy them.

          It was about that time that Mamoru’s danger sense kicked into overdrive. Unfortunately for him, his reflexes were not quite fast enough. A solid, massive object crashed into him from the side, bearing him to the ground. Whatever had tackled him seemed bent on making his head intimately acquainted with the sidewalk. He had the vague impression of Usagi screaming before the world fuzzed and faded away.

 

 

          Halfway across the city, a pair of eyes snapped open, glinting golden in the fading sunlight. “Endymion,” she whispered, and stood.

 

 

          The world focused, and Mamoru’s day went downhill from there. It was another one of those crises. The ones with large and unusually dressed people who just so happen to be minions of other, more powerful people who are trying to control/destroy the world. He foresaw much pain. The leader was a masculine, bipolar monstrosity, and seemed infinitely pleased with the fact that his prey had been caught so easily.  Odd looking semi-humans with purple, black-mottled skin stood around them, wrapping long, slimy tentacles around their arms and legs.. Usagi had descended into terror, and both were useless to prevent the confiscation of any small mystical parts of them that were soon to be stolen.

          Surprisingly, the enemy took none. He only wanted information, which in ways, was nearly as bad, since the information they required was exactly the kind they were committed not to giving, especially since they would want far more in the long run.

          "It would be in your best interest to cooperate. We desire only to find the Princesses and we know that have this information."

          Usagi's panic transformed into defiance. "We don't know what you're talking about. Really. I can hardly even remember seven squared-"

          "Forty nine,” Mamoru provided.

          "-and you think I know something about princesses?"

          "If you are counting on my being stupid or gullible, I assure you I am neither. You know. The Princesses, the Silver Court, the Senshi, the Beautiful Defenders. You know. Where are they?" His voice had grown angrier with each word, and was met with silence. "Surprising strength...in a human...but you will regret it." He saw the gigantic fist curling before him and closed his eyes.

            The impact never came. Cautiously, Mamoru opened his eyes slowly and saw, to his profound amazement, a woman's hand. He followed the arm it was attached to and saw a very serious girl with dark hair and eyes the most unusual shade of gold. She pushed the fist from his face. The attention of their assailants was immediately shifted from them and they converged upon the girl.

          The tentacles slithered from his arms and he retreated hurriedly, searching for Usagi.  He found her and pulled her close, sheltering her from the fight.  By the time he turned back around, the melee behind him had fallen silent.  Before he moved, he knew he was going to see horrible carnage.  And he was right, only...

          The girl was still standing. Around her lay the horde, already disintegrating into ash and smoke.

          Amazed and feeling very foolish, he watched her clean her sword and sheath it. Usagi was still sitting on the ground where she fell, looking as if she were about to cry. He sighed. I thought we had gotten past that....Presently, he noticed the girl staring expectantly.  She looked like a warrior out of some fantasy shoujo, although her outfit wasn’t that different from Sailor Moon’s.  Apart from the sword, of course.

          "Thanks for that," Mamoru began, uncertain. "I don’t mean to be...rude or anything, but who are you again?"  He was surprised to see a somewhat regretful smile pass over her face.

          "I didn't think you would remember me,” she said.  “It’s been a long time after all.”  She smiled again, and then tilted her head thoughtfully..  “I guess there’s no way to be subtle about this. My name,’ she said with a short, elegant bow, “is Hope. I'm...Endymion...I'm your sister."

Silence fell like a hammer from a skyscraper.

          "Are not," he managed.

          "I am so," she retorted indignantly.

          "No, you aren’t."

          "Am too."

"Are not."

          "Am too."

          "I think I would know."

          "So would I."

          "You are not my sister!"

          "Well, I say I am, and I'm older than you!"

          That stopped him. He looked at her and did some quick calculations.  "You can't be more than eighteen."

         "As it happens, Endymion darling, I am one thousand, six hundred, fifty-six years, two months, eight days, and five hours old. Plus a number of minutes and seconds I'm unsure of."

          "That's impossible."

          "Is not."

          "Is too."

          "Is not!"

          "Um, can we at least have this argument somewhere a little less public?" This was from Usagi, whom both parties had recently discounted as part of the scenery.

          Hope looked at her for a moment. "That's the most sense I've ever heard from you.  Oh, one second."  There was a flash of light, and Hope was standing before them in normal, modern dress, no sword in sight.  Even her eyes had faded down to a amber-flecked green. She smiled pleasantly and motioned at Usagi.  “On with it, then, Moon Princess.”  Bunny and Mamoru exchanged a glance: he shrugged, took her hand, and started walking toward the temple.

 

 

         Rei had been hoping desperately that Gwyn would not have recognized her during the previous night's activity. Most did not make the connection between Rei and Mars—apparently they al looked different transformed--but she could never suppress the tiny grain of paranoia that someone would. She walked into the kitchen, yawning, where the American and grandpa sat eating breakfast in silence.  Rei assumed they were saying nothing because Grandpa only knew a few words in English and Gwyn only knew a few words of Japanese and most of both were inappropriate. The first Rei knew from experience; the second she had found out about during a conversation of rather limited vocabulary.

          "So, Rei," Gwyn began as she sat to join the pair. "Who exactly are you anyway?" Rei froze.

          "What?"

          "All of that business last night. A very unusual sequence of events."

          "I have no idea what you're talking about?" she tried.

          "Right. By the way, cute skirt. Bad color scheme, but nice cut.  Very flattering."  She grinned.

          Rei tried to think of some way to diffuse the situation, but nothing came.

          "For what it's worth,” Gwyn said in a more conciliatory tone, “I won't tell."

          "Thank you." Hardly a dozen words passed between them as they finished breakfast.  Before Rei was halfway done, Grandpa had to leave to tend to the temple; Rei and Gwyn were left sitting alone.  After both of them were done, Rei set about cleaning up, and Gwyn helped her wordlessly.  Rei felt uncomfortable with her around; she knew the conversation was merely postponed.  No one could leave something like that alone for long. 

            She had gone out to sweep the stairs when she saw a familiar pair coming through the gate.  Gwyn had followed her there, too, cheerfully sweeping alongside her. and every moment Rei felt the doom of impending explanations.  Never had she been so relieved to see Bunny and Mamoru.  It was only after she had leaned the broom against the wall and rushed to meet them that she noticed the strange girl following behind her.  Intense energy was coming from her.  Who is this? Rei thought, panicking.  Surely they had noticed.

           The stranger appraised Rei in a slow methodical manner.

           "Princess Mars," she stated quietly, before anyone spoke. Her eyes flashed gold.

           As the priestess blinked in confused astonishment, the golden-eyed girl looked past her to the American. Her eyes grew wide.

           "Penguin!" she shouted in English.

           "Penguin?" Bunny and Rei mouthed at each other. They turned to watch as the strange newcomer ran toward Gwyn and threw her arms around the overwhelmed American.

           "Gwyn! I knew it was you! Ha! I knew it! I knew it!" The younger girl was stunned by this display of affection, and tried to pull away.

           "Who is this?" Rei inquired of Bunny and Mamoru.

           "This is Hope," Mamoru replied.

           "I'm his sister," the girl expounded, detaching herself from the very confused American. Gwyn said something quietly in English, and Hope sighed.

           "You are not my sister," Mamoru objected vehemently.

           "Am, too."

           "Are not."

          The girl held up a hand. "We'll discuss this later," she informed him. She turned back to Gwyn and began speaking in English. The three watched carefully, as if some movement would reveal the secrets that this strange woman was withholding.

 

 

          "Gwyn," Hope said quietly. "What do you remember?"

          "I don't understand," she replied. "Remember what? Who are you and how do you know my name?"

          "My name is Hope. As for how I know you--you have to remember yourself before that question can be answered." She forestalled Gwyn's protests. "I will help you remember, Gwyn. And then," she said, smiling, "we will talk. We will talk a very long time, you and I." Hope's smile faded slightly as she raised both hands toward Gwyn's face. "Oh, by the way, my hands are a little cold." She took a deep breath and pushed both palms against Gwyn's forehead.

          Everything immediate vanished. Her world, her life, became like a blink, a day in all the ages of the world. Time returned to her, minutes, hours and years that she had left far behind--a life and a body that should no longer exist. Memories exploded in her head: vague remembrances and excruciatingly detailed experiences. Things she had known, places she had seen.  Hope, Ash...Corbin.

          The rush faded and the world of the Cherry Hill Shrine returned.

          "I told you, I hate that name," she admonished faintly.

          Hope smiled. "Sorry...Penguin."

          "Well, anyway, that does explain a lot, doesn't it?" Gwyn said, ecstatic. Memories flooded her brain as she examined the other girl, a smile blossoming on her face. She wrapped Hope in an enthusiastic embrace, laughing. The other returned her excitement. They separated and began talking quickly to one another.

          "It's been so long!"

          "I didn't remember a thing!"

          “But you do now?"

          "Not everything. A lot of it. You, the guys...Where are they, by the way?"

          "Oh, you know," Hope said. "Off doing errands and things. Boy things. Though I haven't seen Corbin in a while. He's missed you, Gwyn."

          "He was like my brother. I hope he shows up soon."

          Hope examined her curiously for a moment. "It worked better than I thought it would," she said slowly, "but there are still gaps, aren't there?"

          "I think—“

          "Um, I don't mean to interrupt," Mamoru said from the side, "but could one of you ladies kindly explain what's going on here?"

          Gwyn and Hope looked at one another.

          "I think we should go sit down," Gwyn suggested, still grinning.

          Hope nodded, smiling.  "Then we'll explain everything."

 

 

 

           "About a thousand, six hundred and fifty-six years ago,” Hope began, “I was born.”  Serenity’s inner court sat around her, and Endymion and Gwyn sat to either side.  “I was born a mere seventeen years before the fall of the Silver Millenium. You, Bunny, were the princess, several years older than I, and the Senshi were your court. I realize you know all that, but don't say anything until I've finished my story. What you don't know about your court is that there were two other members--the senshi of the earth and the sun."

          "Gwyn!" Rei exclaimed in whispered astonishment. "But Luna said--"

          "Quiet, girl, I'm not done speaking yet. I know what Luna told you, and in a way, she's right.  You’ll understand once I finish explaining. My older sister--"

          "Another one?"

          "Endymion!" she admonished harshly. He submitted reluctantly. "My older sister, Faith, was the official princess of the Earth, although both her and I served you in her Court, and yes, Gwyn was the senshi of the sun, the princess of Sol. Gwyn and I often worked together, mainly because she and I were younger than the rest of the Court. Shortly before Metallia broke loose, Earth, like all of the planets, began to decline under her growing influence. Gwyn and I were on that planet when Metallia's strength began to subvert its inhabitants. One day we were sent to take care of a messy hostage situation. We did all we could, but someone was killed. She was a politican's daughter, and even though we saved the other hostages, the politician saw to it that we were taken to court, and convinced others that we were a menace as senshi.  Young, irresponsible, under dangerous influences—the usual argument. Your Mother, Serenity, exiled us from the moon under pressure from the dignitaries and cast our nations from her Court. Gwyn and I returned to our homes, but as Metallia's influence grew, no one did anything to stop it. We had seen Metallia’s power while we were on earth, and even though official power had been stripped from us, we weren’t actually powerless.  The transformation pens are just conduits; you can’t take away the source.  Gwyn and I knew things were going badly, so we interfered  We had rings fashioned to replace our lost wands, and we ended our helplessness, even though we did it on the pain of death. It was, unfortunately, too late to stop Metallia, and she wreaked her havoc to the end that you know. Gwyn and I escaped destruction, and we have been living on Earth since that time, surviving, helping where we could, and, above all else, waiting."

          "Waiting?"

          "For you. To be reborn."

          "But what about Gwyn? That doesn't explain anything about Gwyn."

          "I died," Gwyn said softly, her eyes downcast. "I was killed, sixteen years ago.  Hope had enough power to save me—she made it so that I would be reborn, like you were.  It was a little different.  I wasn’t exactly born, just...changed.  Revived, as a child, with my memories locked away.  She left me to grow up as a normal child, until I was mature enough to remember." She sighed. "But...that's enough about our past for now."

          "Yes, I agree," Hope said.

          "Wait a second," Endymion said suddenly. "One more question."

          Hope sighed. "One."

          "You said we had another sister. I assume she died as well, or she would still be alive, like you are...so why wasn't she reborn with the rest of us?"

          "She was already dead," Hope replied shortly. "Enough of that. You have a new enemy to face."

          "That's right," Venus said. "I'd forgotten all about the youma. Is the Dark Kingdom involved?"

          "Yes. But this time it won't be as simple as your last victory."

          "Simple?" Jupiter yelled, rising from her seat. "We died to bring that woman down."

          "And there are far worse fates that could befall you, let me assure you," Hope said, in a quiet and eerily commanding voice. "I've been alive for far longer than you have, and I've seen much stronger enemies than you've fought. I've lost to some of them. Some are still lying dormant, waiting to prey on this earth as we speak. But your enemy is stronger than anything against which you have been tested. She's Beryl's sister, Onyx, and I assure you, she is a force to be reckoned with."

 

 

          Late that night, Hope and Gwyn sat outside the shrine.  Hope had decided to stay there, instead of invading Mamoru’s life.  It would be hard to explain, a sister materializing from nowhere, and he wasn’t entirely ready to accept her.  Truthfully, the entire inner court was hesitant to accept them, but her knowledge of the new threat convinced them to listen. 

         “I’ve missed you, Gwyn,” said Hope.

          Gwyn smiled humorlessly. “It’s been a long time.”

          “Sixteen years. Not so long, in the grand scheme.”

          “Long enough,” said Gwyn.

          “Times change.”

          “They do.”

          “I’m sorry about your parents.  It was the best option at the time.”

          “I understand,” Gwyn said.  “It might have worked out differently; you couldn’t know.”

          They fell silent for a moment. Gwyn studied the railing, not willing to look at her friend when she spoke her next words. “They don’t have much of a chance, do they?”

          Hope sighed, considering her reply. “Not right now, no. Fortunately, I don’t think things have progressed to a critical point yet. We may yet have time to fix mistakes. To train them.”

          Gwyn nodded. “I’m not sure how much I can help you. I still can’t remember so much of it. I just can’t remember it...”

          Hope smiled at Gwyn and pushed some hair out of her face. “It will just take time.  Time...and practice.”

          Gwyn looked out past the pond, staring out at nothing. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

          Hope shook her head.  Her black hair seemed to shiver, as if she was afraid. “No, it won’t be easy. For us, for them, for anybody.  It never is, you know. It may very well kill us in the end. But I’ll be damned if she doesn’t go with us. I’ve lived too long and worked too hard to lose this one.”

          “We won’t lose it.”

          Hope wiped a hand over her face. “They’re just children, Gwyn. They’re so very young. It’s not their fault, but...I worry they aren’t ready. They’ve never lost to anyone, so they think they can’t. They’re not so much different than they were all those years ago. They’re like we were, before....I’m afraid to teach them.  I’m afraid to hurt them.” She paused. “He still loves her. I saw it. To hurt her would be to hurt him, and I’m afraid...”

          Gwyn pursed her lips. “Old wounds..”

          Hope closed her eyes, remembering the sticky feeling of old and drying blood in her clothes, on her skin. “Yes. Old wounds.”

 

 

 

          For a long time, there was nothing.

          And then came the thin line of gray light. With it came awareness, knowledge, remembrance. And emotion. Events, key ones, replayed from the beginning. There was a girl, he remembered abstractly. A girl with eyes that shone like sunshine, like moonbeams, that sparkled like starlight, like fire through crystal. And hair that fell like rain down her back. He got a strange, achy feeling when he thought of her, so he tried not to. But, somehow, it always came back to her and the tears he never saw her shed.

          And there was time. So much time. To think. About what he’d done. And what he hadn’t. Lacks, inadequacies, failures, foul and noble deeds, comforting gestures, kisses both passionate and gentle, the easy rhythm of love-making, the hot wash of blood. He remembered peace and he remembered war. He remembered love and he remembered indifference. And with the remembering came the consequences. The pain was subtle in its onset, like the ache of being on your feet too long. By the time you notice, it’s too late to stop. It only sharpened and deepened, rending and baring and opening until he thought he must surely be inside-out.

          Then the thought floated through his mind, the first of his very own: What have I done? With this thought came the realization that the light had grown, no longer just a line, and had brightened, not quite so gray. The hate, the malice, faded. It was getting better. Until it was replaced with...guilt.

          And then his world shattered. The light flooded in, blinding, burning him. Rough hands gripped him, pulled him upright. He felt cold, and the brightness that crept through the cracks in his eyes hurt. Smooth fingers stroked his cheek and lifted his chin. “Wake up,” a female voice like lacquered wood ordered him. “Open your eyes.”

          And he did, compelled to see the woman who spoke to him. His irises contracted painfully, and her face focused. Hers bore a striking resemblance to another face that he’d hoped was gone from him. Black hair waved artfully around her terrible, beautiful face, and her eyes glinted with dreadful secrets that perhaps she might tell him. She smiled, baring straight, white teeth. He shuddered. “Welcome back, Jadeite,” she smoothed. “I have plans for you.”

 

 

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And thus, the end of Chapter Three...keep watching...same bat time, same bat channel!