Starlit Ruins

by Simon Woodington

They had been beaten back for a time. Nasura's plea to the civilian public had routed the most recent wave of shadowlings, to the point that only four or five dozen or so remained, scouting and patrolling, apparently for the next attack. The period for action was rising quickly, and though Ayla desired to assist the growing Sailor Resistance, Nasura insisted they conserve their strength. Destroying the vortex crystal was to be no easy task. What of the military? The shadowlings had nearly evened the battlefield with the introduction of simplistic magic. Despite this, the ratio neared four-to-one at the peak of the battle, four shadowlings banished for every single human killed. At its end, not a shadowling struck back.

  Some hours later after her conversation with Xalia, outside of the Shirinaui home, she strode along a moon drenched porch which extended around the circumference of the building. It was dark, cool, but not unpleasant, nor unwelcome. For the moment, this was as she desired it, peaceful, despite her vague sense of the emotional and physical agony by which they were surrounded. Gazing into the light dotted sky, heaven reaching to earth, or perhaps the opposite, she took a seat upon a wooden bench and mused silently, letting feelings stir her thoughts. Internally, she had become a stewing pot of conflict. And Why Not? There was plenty for the first course, and seconds, if desired.

  And she did not.

  There was the first, and the most distressing: Xalia. Strangely, while the conundrum of the young woman pressed so powerfully, it was not an immediate matter. In fact, there was not time enough to sort her out. Moreover, she wondered why she had the time for her current respite. With a sigh, she accepted it, taking what she could in such misshapen times. So what was next? Nasura, obviously. Why had she approached her? What was in the envelope?

  She regarded it, her free hand hovering above the wax seal. There was no spell upon it. Ayla cursed softly. It was a matter of trust! Shaking her head, she slipped the white casing into a hammerspace pocket. Time would tell, and damn him! That brought her to the third problem. Time. Too soon they would face the shadowlings again, and then the vortex crystal, which they somehow had to destroy. Alone, she doubted very much they would ever live to see it so closely again, much less shatter it. What had happened to the promised soldiers? Maybe that was the matter which was sealed so tightly, resting in her pocket. No. That made no sense. There was too much at stake for Nasura to offer something so questionable. She would come through. She always did.

  Okay, those questions maybe not answered, but abated for now, what else is there? Doubt. Usagi had exhibited such faith in Ayla's abilities as a leader, even saying so. With her gone, she came back to having a serious lack of confidence in herself. She had lost already against a powerful opponent, one much less than those they dared face. Where she had unfaltering faith in the Inner Senshi, she was in want for faith in herself.

  "You know, even Usagi had trouble facing Beryl."

  Ayla glanced up, seeing someone with whom she was not familiar. The figure moved with an easy grace and smoothness of motion, and by the silhouette, was unmistakably female.

  "Who are you?" Ayla hissed faintly, clenching her fist as a spike of light formed within her palm. Wisely, the woman did not approach, placing each white gloved hand on the opposing elbow under her large breasts.

  'I won't hurt you, Ayla sensei,' she replied in flawless Japanese.

  Despite this, the young woman's eyes narrowed. 'How am I supposed to trust anyone?' she asked, of herself more than the stranger who faced her. 'You could be another minion. Like Jisuruka, or Yanei. Or even Xalia!'

  'Hai. You're right,' she agreed, appreciative of the young leader's observation. 'It's been so long… how would you know me?'

  Ayla's mouth widened, and anger abated as the woman's face was revealed by the sullen moonlight. She was a stark redhead, which collected in five large spikes atop her head, and expansively built in figure. Her countenance was one of deceptive kindness, which, while sincere, disguised her sinister talents. Her blues eyes indicated a wealth of stifled guilt, the leash of which she finally began to release. About her slender neck was a silver pendant, upon which in relief was a sparrow in flight, its eyes narrowed, as if pinpointing a particular target.

  'Zia?' Ayla gaped, standing and hesitantly approaching her. 'We thought you'd…'

  'Died? I know,' she nodded. 'Uh, the blast just kinda locked us in the library. I won shortly after that. It gets kinda hard to explain…'

  'Why!? I've got time, or don't you think your niece will understand?' she railed, her hands winding into fists.

  Awkwardly, Ayla stood in place, angrily refusing the desire to hug her lost relative. Zia held her eyes to Ayla's speaking clearly and precisely. 'Ayla, the Clan… they needed me. It was a matter of honour and… I had no choice.'

  Ayla's eyes trembled as her mind whirled in thought and emotion, tossed like a bird in a tornado. A gentle breeze swept into the porch, wisping their hair, and nudging open Zia's long yellow coat far enough to reveal the hilt of a traditional samurai blade. Instantly, Ayla read the symbols.

  'Nani…?' she bit into her words, as if she was striking her verbal target. Moments later, she reached a dark conclusion that staggered her back into her seat. 'SilverKnife… you did die. Don't lie to me!'

  'That wasn't 'til later! Hear me out!'

  'It explains your figure, though,' she observed with a faint grin.

  She offered a tight, uneasy smile. 'Huh, well, not like I had a choice…'

  Ayla wasn't sure quite what to say.

  'You work with what you've got,' Zia shrugged her slender shoulders. 'Magic gave me my face back, and enabled me to be here, now, to help you.'

  Ayla's eyebrows knitted. 'You want to know something, Zia-san?' she snorted, snarling the adjoining "san" derisively. 'Family is a matter of honour too! It's not like we need your help now… We needed you three years ago… when Jusoi died!'

  Zia's white-gloved hand fled to her mouth, tears springing instantly to her eyes. 'Nani? Iye!' she whispered, her voice tender and defenseless. 'What happened?'

  Ayla turned away, head bowed.

  'She caught phenomena,' she replied in hushed, emotion fraught tones. 'Barely walking and she… ooh!' she whispered heatedly, pained. 'You had the power Zia! You could have saved her! Mama doesn't have the Gift.'

  Zia gazed at Ayla meaningfully, eyes glistening with abundant tears. 'I'm sorry Ayla-chan. What can I… I knew something would happen, but I…'

  'You knew,' she cried, glaring at Zia with literal fire in her wide eyes.

  'Iye! I didn't know Jusoi would get sick!' she half-yelled, emotions high, the foremost being a primal hurt. 'I knew you would be called to war, and wouldn't have the strength, or the will to pull through… I had a choice. Shimatta Ayla! Gomen-nasai!'

  The young woman folded her arms over her chest and was silent.

  'I had a choice, a sacrifice to make…' Zia was cut off by a harsh expression which said: "Don't Pull Little Miss Melodrama With Me." With a fire in her soul, and a deeply rooted passion in her heart, Zia found the words which with to stride forward. 'I did it because I love my little sister, and her beautiful, gifted daughter. I did it because I knew this was coming, and I wanted to be ready to help you when you would really need me. That's all there is to it.'

  Whether or not Ayla believed it, the fact was, she was there when they most needed her. It was minutes, nearly five, as Ayla bashed the fifth new problem about in her skull, finally slaying the robust creature. She opened her arms and stepped forward, grasping Zia in a reluctant but heartfelt hug. Tears shimmered on her cheeks as she felt the glowing love of an intimate guardian, someone very akin to her mother.

  'I forgive you, Zia-san,' she wept, holding her for some time more, even more grateful for the support of someone she had long missed. 'I love you.'

  'I'm so sorry about Jusoi… was it bad?'

  'It took weeks… and she missed you so much. After you died - hm - went missing, she kept asking for you. I guess…' Ayla blinked, wiping away tears with cl
enched hands. 'She must have known.'

  'Oh Ayla…' Zia was silent with the effort of sobbing, the girl having been very close to her heart. After the emotional encounter, Zia pulled away, and spoke solemnly. 'I brought something that will help, as well.… besides me, I mean.'

  Ayla accepted the small, yellow seed, which had mystic symbols cut into it.

  'Don't eat it yet. It's risky,' she warned. 'It's a last resort sort of thing.'

  She squinted at the strange looking little seed. 'Eat it? What is it?'

  'A Yarrow Wine seed, enhanced by magic.'

  'No, I mean the price.'

  'It's different for everyone,' she said, blue eyes averted slightly.

  'What about my Neo Senshi?'

  'I brought enough for them too.'

  'Good.'

  Ayla-chan, you are needed. Bring Zia with you.

  Ayla blinked, stunned, as Zia looked upon her apparent confusion with concern. Ayla shook her head. 'We're needed, apparently. C'mon.'

  With a shrug, she followed.

  @~%~~~

  Fully armed, by sword, dagger, and martial skill, well endowed, in figure, musculature, and attitude in confidence. Her great, scarlet spiked hair contrasting her deep blue eyes dramatically, her orange-yellow short sleeved overcoat hanging voluminously from her shoulders.

  'Who is she Nasura?' Masurani demanded, biting her words, and temper, short. 'Where's Goku?'

  The unfamiliar woman gazed at her meaningfully. 'I'm Goku's replacement. It's complicated, but the short of it is he finally managed to find home, and he asked me to take his place here.'

  'Really,' Masurani began heatedly, in a terse, challenging tone. 'Goku was my sensei! Does your skill compare to his? To mine, even?'

  'That's you? I'm honoured to meet you,' she smiled, bowing deeply. 'You are Sailor…'

  'Titan,' she offered, face deepening with a sharp and sudden blush as she bowed hastily in reply. 'Um… thank you, um…'

  'Zia. Actually, Goku and I are about even. We've been friends for a few years, and I've helped him out of a few binds.'

  'You're Zia?!' she blinked, regarding the buxom woman skeptically. 'What are you trained in, anyway, with a figure like that?'

  She brushed off the reference to her remarkable body type with a short lived grin. 'Silver Claw, mainly.'

  Masurani's jaw dropped. 'No way! They almost wouldn't teach me… and I'm nowhere near built like you!'

  'It's complicated,' Zia stated, one hand moving to a hip, the other waving off Masurani's continuing attentions.

  'And you're how old?'

  'Twenty-four.'

  'Holy…!'

  Nasura severed the conversation with a curt gesture. 'This is all well and good, but we haven't time for it. Jake?'

  'Yes ma'am?' he offered, stepping from beyond the open door to the dojo.

  'It's time they learned about the CSM.'

  He nodded deftly. "I'm Jake Yyone, for starters," he half smiled as he spoke in western accented English. "I command eighty-seven troops who…"

  His words were intersected a violent expulsion of force. All eyes fell upon Haisha, who rubbed her red nose.

  "Sorry," she offered with a sniff, looking dim eyed and ill focused.

  "You look pale," Nasura noted with sharp concern. "How are you feeling?"

  "Sick," she remarked with an irksome grin. "I'll be fine."

  "Are you sure?" Ayla quested, examining her military strategist with all due anxiety.

  "Sure, as long as someone has some tissue," she sniffed, blinking slowly. Naritha pulled a handful from a black purse resting upon the table at which she sat. "Thanks."

  Nasura nodded to Jake. "Continue."

  Looking befuddled, he nodded. "Sure. Anyway, we're the 'Coalition Society of Mutants.' We're basically a bunch of grunts who banded together because our uniqueness couldn't be tolerated by our military outfit. You Ayla Apollo?'

  Her tense expression eased, and she studied him with a less than formal regard. "That's me," she replied in very faintly Japanese accented English.

  He smiled faintly at her. There was a comfortable, and noticeable pause before he continued.

  "My troops are yours," he stated coolly. She blushed, swallowing, feeling a stern warmth rise in her face. He glanced at her, plain faced, yet knowing his effect upon her. He bowed his head, releasing her from their locked gaze.

  "How do you… no," she stopped, flustered. "Nasura. Of course."

  "Actually, it was Carl Silver, the angel Minako's husband, who told me 'bout you."

  His smile struck a warm chord through her being. At first she returned it, but as the overall seriousness of their immediate situation set in, she frowned, crossing her arms across her body. "How well equipped are your troops?"

  "Very well, thanks to Carl. We have twenty-five power armored troops—"

  A trio of sneezes tore through the sentence like wet paper.

  "Bless you, Haisha," Naritha added thoughtfully. Haisha bowed her head apologetically, tossing the torn tissue into a nearby wastebasket as she retrieved another with which to wipe her nose.

  "What a perfect bloody time for a cold," she cursed to herself.

  "Power armored?"

  He nodded curtly.

  "Exoskeleton robot armor," another female voice elaborated. "Enhances all physical capabilities of the pilot."

  Zia nodded with a grin. A slender, comparably endowed woman glided up to Zia, adorned in leather, her blond bobbed hair framing her innocent looking face in a highly stylized manner. Ayla regarded her with a non-too-vague unfriendly expression. "And you are?"

  "Nisika," she stated, bowing deeply at the waist. "Hello Ayla Apollo. I am ready to assist your war effort."

  Ayla glanced at Zia, prodding her for a explanation she determined would come soon. Zia's nod went largely unnoticed as Nisika swivelled her wide hips towards the others, after which her torso followed suit.

  "Neo Senshi, introduce yourselves…" Ayla commanded with a strike of ire in her tones.

  @~%~~~

  A summary, with the multitude of events? Impossible. For who qualifies are notable? Even the faintest hint of fledging support? Doubtful. The main players, however, quite remarkable. So, then, just where are we? Or, more precisely, where are they?

  Tsukino Usagi. A woman now respected by many, and arguably moreso than ever, as an angel of glory. Once a frightened teenager, then a frightened Demon Hunter of incredible power then an angel of much respect and holiness. Indeed a force who will receive due reckoning.

  Chiba Mamoru. The ever-faithful soulmate any woman should desire. His integrity could nigh literally shift mountains. Never the scared adolescent, and always the confident, powerful protector of the girls known as the Pretty Sailor Soldiers, and most notably his wife-to-be, Usagi. As Tuxedo Kamen, the champion of good, as an Earth Child, the unconditional rage engine of justice, and the time period of which he was not born. Now more dedicated to Usagi than ever, their separation only strengthening the already deep bond shared.

  Mizuno Ami. Unquestionably the most tortured of the five. An intellectual young woman placed in a world where such talent means little, especially from the perspective of a slave, to the Splugorth. Shattered physically by being submitted to the cage of the Coalition. Reduced to half-woman half-machine, and to the retreat of her mind; as a barmaid in a foreign yet seemingly safer dimension; burnt at the stake, not to mention the slaughter of her half-demon adopted daughter. Then, both reborn as angels, as much as married to…

  Natole Shard. A "Warrior of Mercy." With as much physical power to inspire the nickname "One-Punch" as ability to heal. A solitary minded half-giant with a true, and dedicated heart. In all honesty, it would be a fair stretch for him to conceive deception. Like any honorable father, loving and kind, warding threat with force of word and power of destruction. Together, they have founded new hope in love, life, and survival.

  Hino Rei. Once the firebrand. As much as that shall change naught. Yet where t
here was once an angry young woman, then a vengeance seeking mage of the flame, then a doubtful lover, is a slight more complacent expecting angel mother. She has had her trials, her time for struggles, as the others, but earned, and deserves the love she has received from…

  Adolphus Jusine. To what can be attributed this man but enviable patience and integrity? Perfect? No, but certainly Rei's world is a better one for his place in it. Yet what about him? A gifted and mysterious mage of another realm. A point forgiven in the wake of Adolphus' insurmountable feelings for her.

  Kino Makoto. Always a woman of raw physical intensity, a survivor as the others. The innate warrior. As Sailor Jupiter, a skilled senshi, the most physically intense of the five girls, and a no-holds barred warrior, unafraid to face the truth, and speak when others would not. As Sliver, the survivor of Atlantis, a CyberKnight, retrained warrior against evil, her focus ever unchanged despite adversity.

  Carl?

  And now, an angel of war, continually willing, and increasingly able to destroy the forces employed by Uraki-Ayo.

  Now would be a really good time to begin sending the CSM to the Neo Senshi.

  Yes, angel warrior, you are quite right.

  Hanlan Ireson. Married, and bonded very dramatically to Makoto, enthralled by her beauty and fighting gift. While far from the ideal, a charming and faithful man, with a great deal of learned respect for his wife. Ultimately confused by Ayana's birth and age, but generous in love as acceptance.

  Aino Minako. If ever a life was twisted, her is a prime example of experience in adversity. Once a teenager of manipulative looks, and never far from willing to use her looks to achieve a goal. Yet never for want in moral strength. After many months of abuse and degradation, losing her looks to the world she already hated. Then, after recovering Usagi, her rebirth as an angel, with an appearance exceeding her beginning standard by a large degree.

  Carl Silver. Her mate, if even of draconian nature. To refuse the love learned, pure folly. While doubtful, in the beginning, the possibility of consummating their relationship arriving through her transformation, evening the field, and opening the doors to their world, to their love. In summary, the most important point being their survival, as incredible as it may seem.

  "Ninety two. Great," Haisha added sarcastically. "Well, I guess that's better than nothing. If we don't mount an attack soon, Uraki will, even though the Inner Senshi are likely there already. With any luck, he'll be too busy to direct his forces to complicate things for us."

  "Haisha-chan, I am detecting external motion," Nisika blurted. "Many bodies are advancing upon building."

  While the rest of the room sat in shock, Zia stood unfazed. "How many, Nisi?"

  The shapely creature gazed at Zia, blinking rapidly. "They exceed my ability to count. I estimate, however, two to two point four thousand hundred bodies given their density and rate of approach. Expected time of arrival, one minute, thirty-four seconds."

  "Damnit!" Ayla cursed, slipping out of her trance of terror. "Senshi transform!"

  In no more than a plain burst of light, each young woman manifested their peak level of protection.

  "Sailor Sol - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Sol, a flexible suit of mystic silver, an extension of her original armlets, breastplate and shin guards. Not a crystal shone aside from the gem glinting prettily upon her red-tinted choker. A crimson aura lighted about her, an additional buffer against the violence yet to come.

  "Sailor Titan - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Titan, a heavy classic suit of plate and chain mail. It was sleek, and ultra-light, despite the appearance of girth. A brown plume set upon her helmet, the visor of which was transparent, giving her an unobstructed view through it. She held a beautifully crafted bladed steel alloy staff, thus prepared only physically for the worst.

  "Sailor Phoenix - Crisis-is-ah, ah, achooo!…Armor Henshin!" Sailor Phoenix, in a slim casing of curve-hugging mystic metal. The suit covered her shoulders where the former had not. Beyond this was her aura of living flame, pulsing enraged, seeking personal revenge. She slipped both katana and wakasashi blades free of their scabbards, and fell into a few motions of ken so deeply ingrained they were nearly genetic, then sneezed.

  "Oh gross," qouth she at the contents of the sneeze which coated the inside of her visor.

  "Sailor Seraph - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Seraph, in a style similar to that of her friend, had manifested a bodysuit of polymetal, her arms laden with massive gauntlets with great ball-like elbow pads. Her hair had disappeared under a thick helmet of carefully reinforced chi-charged mystic metal. An aura of seawater-like energy - oddly enough - swam about her also, but spiked impressively at her clenched hands and narrowed eyes.

  "Sailor Mortalis - Death Armor Henshin!" Sailor Mortalis had shielded herself in a suit similar to Masurani's, yet the overt darkness contrasted the others startlingly and gave them cause to wonder.

  "C’mon, it’s in the name," she grinned, snapping up a brutal looking pair of silver bladed war-hammers. "Are we gonna fight, or what?"

  "Yeah, but there's one very important factor missing here," Haisha blurted. "Where are the troops?"

  "On the way! Carl is transporting them personally!"

  "He doesn't have that long!" Ayla observed, to which Haisha nodded reply. The group stood in apt tension, awaiting the attack. A steady, sub-sonic rumbling increased in strength invariably until it nearly reduced the building to its component materials, at which point the shuddering halted.

  "We are completely encapsulated by our opponents," Nisika noted. Dumbly, they gazed about, expecting and almost hoping for the battle to just begin. A sharp, agonized gasp snapped forth. The white robed form of Nasura cringed and folded in the middle, her face a twisted pantomime of unutterable terror and soul-slivered pain. The stun in the room was comparable to the hypothetical appearance of Uraki-Ayo that very instant. Ayla moved as a bolt of searing light, catching her mentor, watching her faintly whisper:

  'Forgive me, Ayla-chan.'

  Even as her eyes closed, her body drew cold, as ice, the eyelids closed by the young woman over her glazed brown eyes.

  'Mentor! No!' Ayla's cry was lost in the thunderous splitting destruction of the roof as hundreds of the shadowlings descended in something not too unlike bloodthirsty glee.

  "Kamehame!" Masurani shouted, a large, sweeping blast vaporizing the dozen or so creatures orienting on the emotionally rapt girl.

  Damn you Uraki-Ayo, Haisha thought vindictively. "Senshi! Mobilize and strike! Defend Sailor Sol until she regains her, uh…"

  The sallow deepening of Ayla's aura caught Haisha, bringing her to silence. She merely gazed on as the young leader leapt up, Nasura's empty, grey corpse falling loosely to the floor, her armored figure alight with a crimson aura of emotional power. Like a finely crafted katana she sliced a clear path into the depths of the onrushing army, and seemed to disappear.

  "Zia! After her - uh… oh. Bloody hell," she cursed, then issued forth another violent sneeze. So had she and her companion done. Glancing up, and half aware she was watching eight shadowlings descending upon her, she cried out as she was knocked down by a slender, dark figure.

  "C'mon Phoenix, get it together!" Jisuruka snapped, pushing off her prone companion. She grinned and squeezed Haisha's thigh suggestively. "You're leadin' 'til she gets back. What are we after?"

  "Um…" she fought back the stern blush rising in her cheeks, feeling grateful for the concealing helmet. "We've got to beat a path to the crystal!"

  "Gotcha!" she nodded energetically, before flying into an easy seeming violent rage against the literal swarm of enemy.

  @~%~~~

  Zia, I can't maintain this speed without burning out my pulse accelerators.

  Zia tapped a stylish black oval hair clip just above her left ear.

  "Then don't. Get back and help the others."

  She nodded, cutting the power to the aforementioned engines and seeming to disappear.

  Sorry Zia-san.

>   "Y'do what y' can. Forget it."

  I will try.

  @~%~~~

  'I've been waiting for this!' cried a voice triumphantly. Despite her apparent fury, she beheld the creature with unmasked shock. 'Stupid girl. You want to fight me?'

  'Mamoru?!? But that's… that's… you're a clone! Like the others!'

  'But so much more powerful than even that whore, Jisi.'

  Ayla snarled at this. 'You can't win, you know.'

  'I already have. Not going to miss that dried out old husk, are you? Neat little trick I…" his voice was severed by a thundering roar as his body exploded in a burst of white heat. Glancing up as she clasped her hands to her loudly ringing ears, Ayla emitted a brief gasp. Five twelve foot tall shining monsters of near mirror like armor hovered strangely in the air, looking slightly demonic as they held what appeared to be double barreled weapons on one shoulder. The closest of the five saluted and spoke in booming tones, which, fortunately, topped the loudness of the staccato tones rattling in her head:

  "Glitter Men Power Armored Troops at your service Sol Ma'am."

  She wanted to fold up and cry, but instead replied his offered salute.

  "You're doing fine! Keep it up!" she yelled with feigned confidence.

  "Yes Ma'am! Thanks Ma'am!"

  What happened? Just like that? The last clone killed? Nasura's death avenged? As she heard the bellowing of shadowlings about her, she decided it would be best not to question an easy victory. With a hesitant snarl, she summoned her daggers of light and fell against the wave of rising foe. "Frick, I'm barely sixteen! Call me Sailor Sol!"

  "Yes Ma'am… uh, Sailor Sol!"

  May God preserve us all!

  @~%~~~

  "Mamoru, needs must we join them!"

  The words came across the small table like a gunshot, causing all of the battle-tense men to flinch.

  "Uh… Of course," he replied, nodding curtly at the somewhat alarmed looking Atlantean mage.

  "Frickin' hell!" Hanlan growled uneasily. "Where in bloody blazes is Carl?"

  Without effect, he appeared, looking dishevelled, but altogether well.

  "I'm done. They've got the troops now. Proving their worth already," he noted breathlessly. "Adolph, cast your spell and get us the hell there already!"

  Chapter 49

  Galaxia