Chapter 5: Survivors

She knew that she was in serious trouble as soon as she was conscious. Fighting waves of nausea, Scylla opened her eyes and scanned the dingy room she was being held in. Her uniform had been replaced with a coarse gray dress. While she didn’t care that much about her uniform, the fact that her pendant was gone concerned her. Without it, she was unable to call the Sword of Swords or use the majority of her powers.

Her arms were secured around a stone column behind her back. She tried to move to her knees but dizziness assailed her. Moving her head aside, she emptied the contents of her stomach.

“Bastard,” she muttered, leaning her head back against the column. She didn’t know how long she had been out, which made her fear that she had more than a concussion. Her head pounded, and movement made her dizzy and nauseated.

A door scraped against the uneven floor behind her, signaling a visitor. The smell of soup filled the air, turning her already volatile stomach. To fight the intense attack of nausea, she forced herself to take deep breaths.

“Oh, we’re awake,” the visitor said gleefully. He dropped to his haunches and waved the steaming cup of soup under her nose. He laughed as she pulled her head away, her face a contortion of pain and illness.

“Not quite up to eating just yet, huh?” he asked, his tone mockingly concerned. “Those nasty bumps to the head can make one feel ill for quiet a while. I’ll just set it over here for now while we have our conversation.”

The wave of nausea dampened as the man placed the soup an arm’s length away. His hair was still gray, but he had lost all the indications of age that he had when he was at the Jovian palace, appearing to be a few years younger than Scylla. Cursing herself for not seeing the threat he posed sooner, Scylla tried to sit up straighter.

“So, what do I call you now?” she asked.

“Good question,” he replied. “Though I have grown used to Duthbert, I long to hear my true name.”

Scylla waited for him to continue. Finally, she asked, “Which is?”

“Celod,” he said, his turquoise eyes sparkling. “Lovely name, isn’t it?”

Scylla continued to watch him emotionlessly. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing with her. Yet, she knew that the questions and the demands were coming.

“You’re not very conversational right now, are you? Very well. I’ll try again, later.”

He retrieved the cup of soup. Again, he waved it in front of her face. Her stomach rolled and she pulled her head away.

“We’ll try the soup again, later, as well.”

He rose to his full height, peering down at her. “I wouldn’t try me too much, Guardian. You will not like the consequences.”

With that final remark, he left her alone in the cool semi-darkness of the cell.

* * * * *

Sailor Jupiter Moon scanned the area around her as Dido emerged from the portal behind her. A slight breeze blew, tossing her hair. Yet, it seemed stale in comparison to the crisp air of Jupiter she had left a few moments ago.

She turned to the Guardian of Compassion. She had in her eyes closed in deep concentration. After a few moments, the Guardian opened her eyes and turned to Jupiter.

“I can sense both Cassandra and Scylla,” she said quietly. “Cassandra is much closer. Both of them seem alright for now.”

Jupiter nodded, crossing her arms and drumming her fingers against an elbow.

“Where do we go first?”

Jupiter studied her companion for a moment. She wanted to go after Scylla, but her concern for Cassandra and Paul was growing. “You said that Cassandra was closer?”

Dido nodded.

“Then we should find Cassandra and Paul first. Then, we can go after Scylla.”

Again, the Guardian nodded. “It seems the wisest decision.”

Her emotionless tone chilled Jupiter to the bone. The princess placed a hand on Dido’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Dido. I promise you.”

Dido tightened her grip on the Teardrop Glaive. “Promises are easily broken, Leda.”

“I don’t make promises lightly, Dido,” she countered, her voice having the right edge to it to cause Dido to glare at her. “I will get your sister back, as well as my husband and Cassandra. That is my promise to you, Guardian of Compassion.”

The Guardian nodded solemnly. “Forgive me, princess.”

Her dark blue eyes scanned the horizon. “I think I know where to begin our search.”

* * * * *

Monea nearly screamed when she felt someone grabbed her wrist. She jerked her limb free of the grasp and wheeled to face the person. She found herself staring into a laughing set of hazel eyes.

“Cut back on whatever you’re on,” the man said. “You’ll live longer.”

“One of these days, Ren,” she muttered, “your luck is going to run out.”

“Believe me, Lady Harmonea,” he stated seriously, “I’ve been foreworn.”

“Huh?” For the first time, she noticed the flashes of pain in his eyes. She studied the rest of him, immediately noticing how he held his side tightly. His shirt and his hand were a rusty brown color from the fresh and drying blood.

“By the House of Light,” she cried, forcing him to lay down on a nearby vacant table. “When did this happen?”

He groaned as she pulled his hand and his shirt away from the wound. “A few hours ago. I was helping a family move when we met a search party. They helped me cut their numbers down to three or four before I sent them on ahead.”

“You must have a death wish,” she said, trying to sound angry but failing.

He locked eyes with hers. “You would have done the same thing, Monea. Don’t deny it.”

She shook her head and began to apply the appropriate salves. “True, but you don’t have all my powers. How did you know that I would still be here?”

“I didn’t,” he replied truthfully. “I was just hoping.”

She shook her head again as she began to apply the clean bandages. Her eyes traveled over his bare torso, noting each scar. Many had come from wounds that she had treated. Cutting off the memories of the numerous times she had held his bleeding form, she retrieved a clean shirt and cloak.

“Now what am I going to do?” she muttered.

“About what?”

She whipped her head in his direction, unaware until that moment that she had spoken aloud. “You’re not the only invalid I’m taking care of at the moment.”

“I’m not an invalid,” he countered. He winced as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “Just a little worse for wear. So, who are your guests?”

She sat down beside him and helped him into the new clothing. “A Guardian of Cignus, the leader actually.”

“You’re joking.”

Monea shook her head. “So, do you feel like help me escort one of the legendary Guardians on whatever mission she’s on?”

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it reverently. “Lady, you know I would follow you anywhere.”

His usual quirky smile graced his lips. “Just be sure to bring a generous jar of your salve. I’ll be tender for a few days yet.”

She gave in to the impulse and kissed him. “That may cause a few problems,” she stated, tracing the outline of his face.

“None that we can’t get around,” he replied huskily, pulling her tighter to him.

Whatever reply she had was cut off as his lips claimed hers.


Survivors She knew that she was in serious trouble as soon as she was conscious. Fighting waves of nausea, Scylla opened her eyes and scanned the dingy room she was being held in. Her uniform had been replaced with a coarse gray dress. While she didn’t care that much about her uniform, the fact that her pendant was gone concerned her. Without it, she was unable to call the Sword of Swords or use the majority of her powers. Her arms were secured around a stone column behind her back. She tried to move to her knees but dizziness assailed her. Moving her head aside, she emptied the contents of her stomach. “Bastard,” she muttered, leaning her head back against the column. She didn’t know how long she had been out, which made her fear that she had more than a concussion. Her head pounded, and movement made her dizzy and nauseated. A door scraped against the uneven floor behind her, signaling a visitor. The smell of soup filled the air, turning her already volatile stomach. To fight the intense attack of nausea, she forced herself to take deep breaths. “Oh, we’re awake,” the visitor said gleefully. He dropped to his haunches and waved the steaming cup of soup under her nose. He laughed as she pulled her head away, her face a contortion of pain and illness. “Not quite up to eating just yet, huh?” he asked, his tone mockingly concerned. “Those nasty bumps to the head can make one feel ill for quiet a while. I’ll just set it over here for now while we have our conversation.” The wave of nausea dampened as the man placed the soup an arm’s length away. His hair was still gray, but he had lost all the indications of age that he had when he was at the Jovian palace, appearing to be a few years younger than Scylla. Cursing herself for not seeing the threat he posed sooner, Scylla tried to sit up straighter. “So, what do I call you now?” she asked. “Good question,” he replied. “Though I have grown used to Duthbert, I long to hear my true name.” Scylla waited for him to continue. Finally, she asked, “Which is?” “Celod,” he said, his turquoise eyes sparkling. “Lovely name, isn’t it?” Scylla continued to watch him emotionlessly. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing with her. Yet, she knew that the questions and the demands were coming. “You’re not very conversational right now, are you? Very well. I’ll try again, later.” He retrieved the cup of soup. Again, he waved it in front of her face. Her stomach rolled and she pulled her head away. “We’ll try the soup again, later, as well.” He rose to his full height, peering down at her. “I wouldn’t try me too much, Guardian. You will not like the consequences.” With that final remark, he left her alone in the cool semi-darkness of the cell. * * * * * Sailor Jupiter Moon scanned the area around her as Dido emerged from the portal behind her. A slight breeze blew, tossing her hair. Yet, it seemed stale in comparison to the crisp air of Jupiter she had left a few moments ago. She turned to the Guardian of Compassion. She had in her eyes closed in deep concentration. After a few moments, the Guardian opened her eyes and turned to Jupiter. “I can sense both Cassandra and Scylla,” she said quietly. “Cassandra is much closer. Both of them seem alright for now.” Jupiter nodded, crossing her arms and drumming her fingers against an elbow. “Where do we go first?” Jupiter studied her companion for a moment. She wanted to go after Scylla, but her concern for Cassandra and Paul was growing. “You said that Cassandra was closer?” Dido nodded. “Then we should find Cassandra and Paul first. Then, we can go after Scylla.” Again, the Guardian nodded. “It seems the wisest decision.” Her emotionless tone chilled Jupiter to the bone. The princess placed a hand on Dido’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Dido. I promise you.” Dido tightened her grip on the Teardrop Glaive. “Promises are easily broken, Leda.” “I don’t make promises lightly, Dido,” she countered, her voice having the right edge to it to cause Dido to glare at her. “I will get your sister back, as well as my husband and Cassandra. That is my promise to you, Guardian of Compassion.” The Guardian nodded solemnly. “Forgive me, princess.” Her dark blue eyes scanned the horizon. “I think I know where to begin our search.” * * * * * Monea nearly screamed when she felt someone grabbed her wrist. She jerked her limb free of the grasp and wheeled to face the person. She found herself staring into a laughing set of hazel eyes. “Cut back on whatever you’re on,” the man said. “You’ll live longer.” “One of these days, Ren,” she muttered, “your luck is going to run out.” “Believe me, Lady Harmonea,” he stated seriously, “I’ve been foreworn.” “Huh?” For the first time, she noticed the flashes of pain in his eyes. She studied the rest of him, immediately noticing how he held his side tightly. His shirt and his hand were a rusty brown color from the fresh and drying blood. “By the House of Light,” she cried, forcing him to lay down on a nearby vacant table. “When did this happen?” He groaned as she pulled his hand and his shirt away from the wound. “A few hours ago. I was helping a family move when we met a search party. They helped me cut their numbers down to three or four before I sent them on ahead.” “You must have a death wish,” she said, trying to sound angry but failing. He locked eyes with hers. “You would have done the same thing, Monea. Don’t deny it.” She shook her head and began to apply the appropriate salves. “True, but you don’t have all my powers. How did you know that I would still be here?” “I didn’t,” he replied truthfully. “I was just hoping.” She shook her head again as she began to apply the clean bandages. Her eyes traveled over his bare torso, noting each scar. Many had come from wounds that she had treated. Cutting off the memories of the numerous times she had held his bleeding form, she retrieved a clean shirt and cloak. “Now what am I going to do?” she muttered. “About what?” She whipped her head in his direction, unaware until that moment that she had spoken aloud. “You’re not the only invalid I’m taking care of at the moment.” “I’m not an invalid,” he countered. He winced as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “Just a little worse for wear. So, who are your guests?” She sat down beside him and helped him into the new clothing. “A Guardian of Cignus, the leader actually.” “You’re joking.” Monea shook her head. “So, do you feel like help me escort one of the legendary Guardians on whatever mission she’s on?” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it reverently. “Lady, you know I would follow you anywhere.” His usual quirky smile graced his lips. “Just be sure to bring a generous jar of your salve. I’ll be tender for a few days yet.” She gave in to the impulse and kissed him. “That may cause a few problems,” she stated, tracing the outline of his face. “None that we can’t get around,” he replied huskily, pulling her tighter to him. Whatever reply she had was cut off as his lips claimed hers.


Chapter 6: The Captain's Dilemma Jupiter's Gone