Sailor Moon: Panorama


Interlude
"The Dance"

Love can touch us one time
And last for a lifetime
And never go till we're one
Love was when I loved you
One true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on

"My Heart Will Go On,"
by James Horner and Will Jennings.

As I look up at the Earth, I cannot help but feel her gaze. Her dark eyes are that intense. When she and I speak, our voices are polite and quiet, never hinting at what was ... but when she brushes against me, I still feel the heat.

The heat I had yearned after well before she and I met.

On the day that it began, I had spent my expected hour of study in the library of the palace, reading "Ye Kronikle of Ye Hunteres", the first great Martian ballad. It was a simple tale, but it caught fire within the walls of my imagination. I saw Cyndaelle and her companions pursuing and ambushing the great Wyrm, saw the climactic dance of death between mortal and monster, saw the sacrifices of the companions to give Cyndaelle her moment of triumph, saw Cyndaelle bleeding from many wounds, pay homage to her foe by uttering those immortal words --

"Better it is to die me now, oh Wyrm,
Then to live in a world where thou art not ..."

"For the Hunt is Life, and the Hunt is Done," I echoed as I walked down the hall from the library as I went to tend my garden.

"What are you talking about now, dear one?" I heard an elegant voice behind me ask. Surprised, I turned. It was, of course, sweet Venus. I should not have been so startled as I was; no one else in the palace would have dared to interrupt me in my thoughts, even if they were vocalized, even if I did not realize that they were. But Venus was a law unto herself.

"Venus!" I cried aloud as I dashed to hug her, very careful to suppress the instinct to apply the Earther expression "-chan" to her name. I did not know how she would react to my doing so, but I knew that she had once casually broken the nose of a minor noble of her own world who had. Our embrace was warm, and she kissed me on the lips.

"Ah, Serenity, I have missed you greatly lo these many months," she began as we continued to walk together.

"Venus," I chided, "you were gone no more than a week to your world. You cannot have conceived a great longing to see me in that brief time."

She pouted. "You have ruined my soliliquy. I spent the entire trip here composing it, I shall have you know, and you have ruined it with your petty demands for reality."

We laughed together after a moment. It was wonderful to have my dearest friend returned to me, no matter how long she had been gone. She accompanied me to my garden, and watched indulgently as I fussed over the white roses. She moved easily among the rows of flowers, her sandaled feet scarcely leaving a mark where they danced.

"In truth, Serenity," she said then, "I would have wished for your company on this visit home. I have long wished for you to see the beauty there."

I smiled sadly. "Alas, Venus, I do not think that my mother would be willing to give me permission to voyage to your world. Its gravity is thrice that of the Kingdom's, as well you know. She would fear for my safety."

"Poo!" she said, gesturing angrily. "On Venus there are scores of wizards --"

"Magi," I corrected gently.

"-- who could facilely alter the local gravity of wherever you were to suit your comfort. No, there can be only one reason that you will not come to Venus."

"And it is?" I asked, dreading.

"You do not care enough for my feelings!" she declaimed, and began to sob into her hands, looking away from me. After a moment of uncertainty, I became quite sure that she was only pretending to weep at the thought, and released a sigh of exasperation and relief.

"In all honesty, dear Serenity," she said a few moments later, "I truly do think that you should at least try to know your Guardians. Why, just the other day while I was talking with sweet Mercury ..."

She trailed off, and I immediately recognized that I was supposed to react with surprise that she knew the daughter of the Lord President of Mercury. "Oh, have you met her? How surprising. Astonishing even." I rewarded her obvious gambit with a response that she could tell was falsely surprised. She reddened, and did not continue.

In truth, then ... and to a degree now, as well ... I found the idea of my Guardians to be embarrassing. I was not blind to the real political meaning of the declaration that my mother had made when the Heirs were born. "Your children shall support and protect my daughter with their lives ... just as your kingdoms do for mine." Thus, any failure by the daughter could be visited on the kingdom. And vice versa, perhaps.

How could I face my Guardians, win their affections as I had Venus', when I knew that their sacred trust was a lie invented to give the Moon Kingdom control over their fates? Even my friendship with Venus, I knew well, was guided by this need of my mother to dominate the other worlds. A decade past, the death of Venus' mother, Astarte, had left Mother in an ideal position to influence the governing of Venus, by bringing Astarte's daughter and Heir to her side, making her dependant on Mother and myself. It had not completely worked -- most of Venus' protestations that she needed to be with me to be happy were at most private jests between the two of us.

When I was finished with my gardening, I cleaned my hands and led Venus to where my mother was holding court that evening, and presented her. Mother permitted her to approach the throne, and to kiss her on the forehead. The gesture of fillial respect did not go unremarked upon in court.

A few hours passed, as Mother listened to each petition, judged it, and responded accordingly. At the end, she glanced at the timeglass and asked, "Has anyone other business to bring before us this day?"

I heard Venus, standing beside me, clear her throat. For a moment, I wondered if she was going to make the foolish suggestion about my visiting her world to Mother. Then she cleared her throat a second time, and I knew with a sinking sensation that she thought I would do so.

I stepped forward, sighing, and uttered the formula. "May it please Her Majesty, I fain would speak."

Mother did not even blink. "The throne recognizes Her Royal Highness Serenity Daughter of Serenity, Heir to the Moon Kingdom. Of what would you speak this day?"

Well, 'tis better to dance an evening than a single step, I reasoned, and began. "Her Highness the Princess of Venus has invited me to visit her world, Your Majesty, in the interest of promoting still greater friendship between our two worlds. Too, she has reminded me of the other Heirs of the Silver Millenium, and I have thought of what good might come of reminding each of them of the love which I bear for my sworn Guardians, by going to their worlds in turn --" Oh, why not? "-- and inviting them to return to the Moon Kingdom with me."

Shocked whispers circulated through the court as I concluded, and waited patiently for Mother to reject my idea. She stared at me without expression. I lowered my gaze from hers, of course, demure as ever.

"Interesting," she said, "we needs must speak of this at length in my chambers. Unless there is any other business?"

She had not refused. I blinked.

"Then I declare that this court is adjourned until tomorrow." She rose, and stepped down from the raised section where the Silver Throne stood. She crossed the floor gracefully, accepting the bows, curtsies, and salutes of the crowd. Mother paused when she reached me. "Won't you join me, daughter?"

It was not a request, and it specifically excluded Venus from our conversation. I bobbed my head in a quick affirmation, and joined her, walking two steps behind.

When we arrived at her chambers, and the door was closed, and the wards enforced, she turned to me and asked me the one question I would never have expected. "Is this truly what you wish to do?"

"Mother ..."

"Think carefully, my daughter. Some, indeed many of the rulers of the Silver Millenium look on us with scorn and contempt, as a mask for their fear. They will try to seduce and corrupt you, guide you down paths which must not be followed, and if all else fails they will seek your life. Is this truly what you wish to do?"

I listened to my mother's words. I heard the fear in them, fear for my life and my safety if I went among these strange foreign worlds. I heard the fear of those worlds. My mother, born a millenium past, had only once voyaged to Earth under special circumstances, recently. This was viewed as a sign of her love for the Moon Kingdom, fairest jewel of the heavens.

It was actually a sign of her fear.

"How can I rule," I asked calmly, "if I do not show them that I do not fear them? Or, if they give me cause to fear, if I cannot make them believe that I do not? Mother, it is not what I wish to do; it is what I must do."

She stared at me for a long moment, and for a moment I did fear. I feared that she knew that I had seen what was behind her image of complete calm and sanctity. But then she spoke again. "Very well. You shall visit each of the worlds in turn -- first Mars --"

"But, Mother, Venus is closer."

"It is also three times as gravitated as our Kingdom." My own words returned to haunt me. "You shall be working, during these voyages, to increase your tolerance for gravity. Mars will be a good beginning." She paused. "You leave tomorrow, at Earthdawn."

"But that is in a matter of hours!" I protested. "Surely I will need more time to prepare than that!"

She looked at me strangely. "You mean that you have not been planning this for some time? That the idea was truly suggested to you by Venus?"

A trap! If she believed that I was being unduly influenced by Venus, I would never see her again. I laughed, sillily. "Oh, Mother, no! But I knew that if you refused my request, that prior preparations might seem impertinent. So ..."

She shook her head, smiling sadly. "It is indeed hard to believe that you are but fourteen years, my daughter ... already you play the Great Game as well as well as men thrice your age."

"I had the finest teacher in all the worlds," I said, sincerely.

"Will you have enough time to gather what you need by the next Earthdawn?" she asked.

I considered, rapidly, then nodded. "That will be more than enough time."

"Then you shall leave at that time. Beware, however," her voice said, going cold once more. "The lords of the other worlds do not play the Great Game. If you try to engage with them, you will suffer greatly."

"I shall be guided by you," I promised, and with her permission, made my way from her chambers to mine. Summoning a small army of servants, I began to pack furiously. The task of selecting outfits that would emphasize my Lunar nature while not giving offense to the people of the other worlds filled my mind for some time, and did not allow me to fret.

After the packing was done, though, I was free to ponder on which of the many levels of the Great Game my Mother's acceptance of the proposal was meant to be a gambit. I had exceedingly little information on which to base my analysis, however, and soon abandoned it as a fruitless inquiry, and elected to study Mars instead.

Mars was generally believed to be the third eldest of the Realms -- even the most prideful nobles of the Kingdom were compelled to admit that Venus was the eldest, by nearly half a millenium. Its ruler, Khakhan Aten-Horus the Eternal, was noted as being the most warlike of the first generation of godlings, and her power over the element of flame was believed to be greater than any of the magi of legend.

She had had many dozens of children in the millenia since her birth, but none of them had shown as much "talent" for immortality as she. Her last child had been born almost fifteen years before, and was my Guardian.

I requested an image of her from the royal archives, and was startled to learn that only one existed. Our agents were usually much more astute in documenting the lives of all those in line for royal honor among the other realms. There were vast stacks of information about the life of the princess of Mercury, for example ...

The terminal informed me that the image was ready for viewing, and produced it for me.

My heart stopped.

"Hurt her and I'll kill you."

I did not know where the words that echoed through my brain came from when I gazed at the picture of the Princess of Mars, but I knew her. She had lived in my dreams for years. She was Cyndaelle, in that image. Her leather garb ... her stained spear and hands ... her dusty face. Everything about her screamed fatigue, but her eyes were bright and calm and preternaturally ready.

And she and I had been born to meet one another.

* * *

There were, as it happened, far more reports on the Princess of Mars -- she was never given a name in them, which I found odd -- than there were images of her. They painted a simple picture: essentially sent into exile from her mother's court, to study the secret ways and lore of the Martian Hunters.

Cyndaelle had been much the same, according to legend. And perhaps that was why my imagination filled in the details it did -- that waiting for her in Gravitas, her mother's great fortress city, was a tower of woven crystal -- exactly, in hindsight, like those of Millenias; that though she was as harsh and unrelenting as a Martian storm in battle, in times of peace she was as gentle as a caress of snow across one's cheek.

As the Princess of Silver, my private yacht, sped through the void to Mars, every night was spent dreaming of her. She would be as welcoming to me as Cyndaelle had been to each of her companions, and would gladly come with me back to the Moon Kingdom ...

... and become caught up in the endless political machinations ...

... and lose the innocence of the wild ...

And that would not do at all.

* * *

At last, the Princess of Silver descended through the Martian atmosphere to Gravitas. The Khan had been told of our coming well in advance of our departure, of course, so the yacht was not challenged as she came to ground.

The nearly two hour delay for the assembly of the honor guard of troops to escort me to the palace verged on deliberate insult, however. Still, it was possible that the excuse given -- that the militia had been on what passed for maneuvers out in the desert -- was legitimate, sufficiently possible to avoid being an insult.

I was escorted swiftly through the streets of Gravitas, with scarcely enough time to observe anything of interest about the city -- beyond the carefully maintained and guarded fires on every rooftop, and the general poverty of the Martians in comparison to the citizens of Millenias. Even the Palace was of an order of magnitude less beautiful than the Great Palace at home, though it was the most architecturally advanced building I had yet seen on this planet.

The throne room of the Khan, intriguingly, was much larger than the public court at home. This told me a great deal about Anhur Khan's political strategy -- she defended herself by keeping her rivals at a distance from her, even when they came to pay homage; while my mother defended herself and kept the peace of the court by ensuring that those who came to her court were too close to each other to risk harming her or their other rivals without injuring themselves or potential allies.

My evaluation was rewarded when the guards who led me into the throneroom stopped a good twenty-five paces from the throne where the Khan lounged. Conscious of this, I proceeded to step forward an additional five paces, fully expecting to see a reaction of fear or anger from the ruler of Mars.

I was hideously disappointed. She did not react at all. At once, I learned what my mother had meant about the lords of the other worlds not playing the Great Game -- I could not read Anhur Khan at all. Her skin could have been carved of dark bronze, her eyes fashioned from rubies, and I would have been able to guess more about what she thought of my presumption. And with this realization came a sudden rush of certainty that she knew exactly what I was thinking.

It was that which saved me from panic. I drew in a deep breath, and said, in a clear, carrying voice, "Serenity, Daughter of Serenity, offers greetings to Aten Horus, Khakhan of Mars, and Host of the Fire." Woven through every word was so much feigned confidence that it verged on bravado.

"We graciously accept the greetings of the Crown Princess of the Moon Kingdom, and welcome her within our home," she said, completing the ritual. And then I understood why I could not percieve her subtext.

She had none.

She was fire, and fire only. An unreasoning, elemental force; tamed but never mastered. If all the rulers of the Silver Millenium were as she was, small wonder that my mother feared them; they could not be controlled by words, but only by deeds.

"I was given to understand that you desired to ... speak with my daughter, your Guardian?" she asked slowly.

"Yes. I do wish to do so," I replied calmly. Appearing decisive would suffice for the moment, until it came time for me to actually do something. And then I would have to do it, swiftly, without hesitation.

"She has been summoned, and will be here shortly. How long do you anticipate that your visit will last?"

That was an attempt at concealing a meaning. "No more than a week, at most. It is my mission to visit each of the Guardians in turn, and were I to take much more than a season, my mother would become concerned." I neatly avoided suggesting that Mars would be coming with me when I departed, while assuring her that my presence would not be too much of an irritant.

"Ah," she steamed.

I heard the doors to the throne room open behind me, yet did not turn to look. "Great Khan, the Hunting Party you have summoned from the wastes has arrived within Gravitas," a high-pitched male voice said.

"Good. Have the Bird of Fire brought here at once," Anhur said.

"It shall be done." The doors closed. The honor guard which had accompanied me began to slowly move to the side of the great hall. For a moment, I considered my options -- and then something about the way in which Anhur Khan was gazing at me told me to move from my position.

Perhaps ten minutes later, the doors opened once more, and I saw her for the first time. She looked exactly as she had in the image ... hard, resilient, yet with vulnerability that I could see around her eyes. I let out a brief sigh of relief as I realized that I could read her.

She knelt to one knee before her mother. "Rise," Anhur murmured, and there was a faint smile on her face. "Daughter of Mars, one has come to speak with you," she said calmly. "You will show her no less courtesy than you would --"

I did not wish her to show me courtesy. I had had enough of courtesy in the Moon Kingdom. I wished her to show me herself. So I lifted my voice, made myself sound as childish as possible, and cried "HIIIIII!".

Her head whipped round, and our eyes met. For a moment, her face was filled with indignation and shock ... which faded quickly. Then she was only staring at me. I wondered, momentarily, if it could be that she had no idea who I was. Then, slowly, she spoke. "Your Highness. Welcome to Mars."

I bowed, pleased. "The Princess of the Moon Kingdom," Anhur said then, "has decided to pay a visit upon each of the seven Heirs, and on Pluto. She has come to us first. We are honored beyond our ability to express by her presence." If she was, her voice gave no indication of it. I looked up to see that she had risen from her throne, and approached Mars. "You, Daughter of Mars, shall be her guide to our world. You shall watch over her, and protect her life as though it were as dear to you as my own. Nay, dearer." She smiled then, menacingly.

I followed her as she slowly tromped out of the throne room. "Where are we going, Lady Mars?" I asked politely.

"I am going to have a bath. It has been several weeks since my last, and I feel the need for one." I quietly gasped at the idea of going for weeks without a bath, then heard her say, "Do not call me Lady Mars. That's not proper."

"What should I call you?" I asked, wondering why she did not stop and face me when she spoke to me. As if to answer me, she did stop, and I ran into her back. Fortunately, she did not comment on my clumsiness.

"Call me whatever you please," she finally said, "so long as it is not Lady Mars."

"All right, Mars-chan," I replied.

She whirled around again, as she had in the throne room, her hair streaming behind her. "Mars-chan?" she bit out.

" 'Chan' is an Earther term implying affection for the one whose name is thus modified," I informed her. I supposed that since she had been studying the ways of war, she had not had time to study languages.

"Do you not understand that it is not right for you to call me by the name of my planet?" she yelled.

I blinked. "But I was told at the school that all of my Guardians had been named for the planet that they represented. Is this not so?"

"No! It is not so!" she yelled, her face terribly distorted in anger.

I did not know what to think. "But ..." I stammered, "but I was told that you were a princess like me, that you lived in a wonderful crystal palace like --"

"Gods of Ice and Storm, you little twit, do you believe everything you were told in whatever nursery school you were put into to fill you up with propaganda?!" she roared, and continued to do so for at least another minute. I was too shocked to hear her words, however.

It is vital to understand that one of the rules of the Great Game is to never show anger. Even if one stands in the presence of one's direst enemy in all the worlds, one should be friendly or cordial, at the least. Anger, it is said, clouds the mind when it should be clearly considering ways in which to bring about the ultimate destruction of the one whom one hates.

Before that moment, I had never met anyone who clearly showed true anger. I overreacted. "WAAAAAAAAAH! Mars-chan hates me!" I shrieked, and fled aimlessly.

I regained my senses a few minutes later, at the bottom of a set of stairs. Sniffing, I rose up to examine my surroundings. Before me was a long corridor of evenly spaced doors. There was an oppressive sense of quiet and ... and despair.

I saw a woman -- she could not have been much older than I was, but her face was lined with cares -- dressed in a maid's gown, step out of one of the rooms, and start walking down the corridor, away from me. Servant's quarters, I realized, then blinked.

Judging from the spacing of the doors, each of the rooms was as large as a privy, in the Millenias palace.

I swallowed, and began to climb the stairs. Two floors above, the halls took on shapes that I recognized as those of the level on which the throne room had been located. After some brief confusion, I found my way to the doors of the throne room, and began to retrace my steps, hoping against all odds that there were no turns in the path that Mars-chan -- no, the Honored Hunter, I decided to call her, following the examples in the Cyndaelle stories -- had led me along.

I was fortunate in that the corridor passed beside the baths, which were clearly marked with the ancient symbol. She was already scrubbing at herself as I entered, and I could hear her muttering vague oaths. I winced, then quietly undressed, and took a sponge in hand.

She let out a yelp as I began to clean her shoulders, and almost whirled enough to take them out of my reach. "I apologize for my immaturity, Honored Hunter of Mars. I was simply overwhelmed by the joy that I felt on finally meeting one of those who are my sworn Defenders, and I embarrassed you thereby."

"No, no!" she snapped. "I should apologize to you for causing you embarrassment. The Moon Kingdom and Mars are not close, and so you should not be expected to know of our ways ..."

That made no sense. Of course I knew her ways. Why would I not have taken the time to learn the ways of those whom I would one day rule? I covered my confusion with a smile as I pointed out, "We are not so different. Both our peoples scrub before soaking ..."

She smiled back, then. I felt as I had when I was so much younger, and I had seen the Earth rise into the sky. Even though I knew that it happened with great frequency, I felt that this instance was unique.

She scrubbed my back in turn, and we settled into the tub -- which was, I must note, only slightly smaller than the one in the Palace at home. It was very restful after the long journey. Water was at a premium in the yacht, hot water moreso -- it was necessary to rely on instant cleansing magic.

"Your Highness --" she suddenly asked.

"Serenity," I told her.

Even though I did not look at her face, I could tell that she was frowning. "Your Highness, why --"

I closed my eyes began the score of my favorite interpretation of the Cyndaelle ballads. I would have informality from her, or no talk at all.

She made an exasperated noise. "Serenity," the Hunter asked at last, "why did you come to Mars first?"

For a moment, I panicked again. Perhaps, I thought, only some of the people of the other worlds play the great game. Then I calmed myself. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"The Moon Kingdom is almost on the opposite side of the sun at this moment, and you would be closer to Venus, for an easier and safer trip." She seemed genuninely confused.

I could not tell her of my need to develop my resilenience to gravity, so I gave her a half-truth -- one which I suspected was at the true root of my mother's suggestion. "Oh! Well, it is largely because I know Venus -- the Princess Venus, I mean -- very well already, for she was very often at my mother's court when we were children." I began to enlarge upon the story. "Such games we played together, and the scrapes we got into ..."

From her reactions to my half-truth, I determined two things. The first was that she was not so alligned to fire as her mother -- so as to make her reactions somewhat easier to read -- and the second was that she had never had a friend as close as Venus was to me. I found that very sad.

After our bath, she led me through the halls to the room which had been set aside for me. On stepping into it, I looked around and murmured, "It's so small!" I was still not used to the differences in scale between this palace and the one I had known for years.

"Small?" Mars asked, with an odd note in her voice.

I turned around to look at her, and nodded. "Much smaller than my room back home," I informed her. It was, in fact, much smaller than the suite given to Endymion, the smallest chamber used by anyone of rank.

She was almost glaring at me as she replied, "I hope that you will not be inconvenienced by its small size."

"Oh no," I answered quickly, hoping to ameliorate her obvious irritation. "This will be nice and cozy!"

She silently turned on her heel.

I could not identify what made me ask the question. "Honored Hunter ... should I have need of you, where will you be?" She turned to face me, with an odd expression. "My chambers are located two floors beneath this one. They are the third door on the right from the nearest stairwell leading to that floor."

I nodded, glad to know where I could reach her if I became frightened in the night. "Thank you. Good night, Honored Hunter. Sleep lightly," I said, giving her the farewell that Brisantine had given Cyndaelle before the final battle.

She was gone before I realized that the location she had described was in the place I had visited earlier. The servant's quarters. The place of despair.

I did not know what to make of that. I activated the lock -- it was of the sort that would require a touch of my hand to open, rather than the more modern voice-driven ones. And then I went to bed. Sleep came easily, and dreams of the Hunter as Cyndaelle.

Early in the morning, I awoke to sense a presence outside the door. At once, I recognized it as Anhur Khan's aura. Perhaps she was too elemental to even attempt to hide it. Or perhaps she did not wish to do so, wishing instead to remind me that she could seize and destroy me at will.

I could not return to sleep, even after the aura moved away from my door. Finally, after daybreak, I opened the door to see that Mars-chan was lying outside of it, greatly uncomfortable from the look of her. She muttered a quick good morning to me.

"Why didn't you knock?" I asked, bewhilderedly.

"That is not how things are done on Mars," she snapped at me.

"Oh," I replied. "Uh ... well, in the future, please feel free to enter my room."

That was to be the routine which we followed for the next several days. She guided me on a tour of the palace, and then of the city beyond. Very often I remarked on certain things which seemed rather illogical or pointless, and offered suggestions on how to improve them, only to be told that the way that things were done on Mars was the way that they were done -- in essence, that my suggestions were not welcome.

I grew increasingly frustrated -- not only was I learning nothing of importance about Mars, the Honored Hunter was keeping up her reserve as well. Despite everything, I did not think she felt the bond to me that I felt to her. It made me want to scream.

It was only the sixth day that she asked me if I were bored. I almost retorted that I was rather infuriated, but instead appeared to agree with her. "You have shown me much of this wonderful palace, and this marvelous city, but I would wish to see the rest of the planet, as well!"

"That would be dangerous," she answered quickly. "Very few Martians travel the wastes, for fear of the worms."

"The worms?" I asked. I knew the stories, of course. "But, surely, if they were so much of a problem, they would be for the cities as well -- for they can fly, can't they? They could --"

"Of course not!" she snapped. "They can no more fly than they can talk. Nor do they breathe fire ..."

I had known that last. Fire is humanity's tool; it does not belong to beasts.

She went on to describe the way in which the worms were hunted from the air, in order to make the foods that played such a central role in the Martian diet. "Hunters, naturally, still practice the traditional ways," she stated. "When summoned to the palace, a week ago, I was camping in a cave where I had slain a worm --"

I seized on it. "You did? Oh, I would see that place!"

"But --"

"It would not be dangerous. You and your sisters would not have camped in a cave which was not safe, correct?" I smiled winsomely.

Moments later, we were in the ornithopter, high above the frozen plains of Mars. The Honored Hunter seemed almost bewhildered as to how she had come to this.

She showed me the cave, and told the story of how she had fought and defeated the worm, pinning its body to the rock with her spear. I could see the places on the walls where the acid had dropped from the creature's throat as it engaged in its dying convusions.

As she recounted the story of the kill, I became more and more disconcerted. The account was not what I had expected it to be -- a noble battle between woman and worm. There had been no glowing treasure to be won, no helpless prince to protect -- just a simple killing of a helpless animal.

"But why did you kill it?"

"For the meat," she replied, staring at me with an odd expression

"Did you not carry provisions with you?" I wanted to know.

"Well, yes, but --"

"Then why?" Words could not express how frustrated I felt. For an entire week I had put up with all manner of simple stupidity masking itself as tradition, and I would have no more of it!

And then I saw her face. She was angry with my words, clearly ... but there was something else ... shame, perhaps. "Because ... because that is what Hunters DO, you fool!" she stammered out. "What of it?"

"But why is it so important that you be a Hunter?" I asked, my frustration forgotten.

She stormed up to me, and continued to yell. "Because there is nothing else for me to be! I know nothing else!"

I shook my head as I backed away from her. "Not so," I answered. "Only those who are dead can be nothing else." At last, at last, I understood.

Like me, she wanted more than the way she knew could give her.

I was so pleased by my realization that I almost did not see the blow coming. My instructor in self-defense would have screamed and cursed my folly as I clumsily ducked out of the way. She went sprawling, her face landing in a pile of some disgusting substance. I knelt down to help her ...

... and saw it.

A hundred thousand jagged teeth protruded from all the edge of the circular mouth, and a thick, viscous substance dripped from its mouth, causing the floor of the cave to sizzle.

Its body filled the mouth of the cave almost completely.

I let out a scream of sheer panic. Though I searched desperately through my mind for some way to save my life, any defensive spell that I had learned fell away from me. For an excrutiatingly long moment, I knew that I was going to die.

And then Mars arose from the floor. Her eyes were already aflame, and her dark hair stretched back from her head, buoyed by a wind which I could not feel. Her arms whipped up from her sides, her hands gripped together as though she clutched before her a sword.

"FIRE SOUL!" she screamed, naming herself.

The wyrm died at once, engulfed in the pulse of starflame which leaped from her clenched hands. I barely noticed. There was nothing else in the universe, then, but her.

She was not Cyndaelle.

She was what Cyndaelle should have been.

"Magnificent," I whispered.

She whipped around, and I was horrified to see even more shame in her eyes. "What do you mean, magnificent?!" she spat.

"I-I-I have never seen such a wondrous display of Elemental Fire," I stammered in response. "Even the great magi cannot command it with such ease --"

"You fool!" she raged. "I am no magi! I am a warrior! Warriors are not meant to use --"

"They do in the Moon Kingdom," I told her.

"-- magic, it is the province of scholars and bards and --" She stopped, suddenly, and stared at me.

I spoke slowly. "Every unit of our military employs a ... warlock, is the term used. It originally meant oathbreaker, because there was once some oath that kept magi from the battlefield, but it is a mark of respect in these days." At last, the final piece was clear to me ... what it was that she wanted, the nameless thing that I had seen in her eyes. "I once spoke with a magi about how it felt to deny the magic that surged in his veins ... and he said it was a greater pain than I could imagine." I paused, and made my offer. "If you came to the Moon with me, Mars-chan, your pain could end."

She stared at me for a long moment, then lifted her hand to rub her face clean of the substance into which she had fallen earlier. I offered her a handkerchief instead, and our hands touched.

A jolt ran up my hand as they did.

And I realized that there was something else that she needed. And it was something which I needed as well. "I will return to my Kingdom tomorrow," I whispered.

"Oh," she answered.

"There is a final place that I wish you to show me before then," I told her.

"Where would that be?" she murmured.

"Your room." There was a symmetry. I had first begun to understand her when I first learnt that the small rooms that had shocked me were where she had been told she belonged. It was meet and right that we return there for the final act.

We returned to the palace as quietly as we had left, and she guided me down the stairs, to the halls of despair, into a room choked with dust.

How could I have missed it? She had come up to my room that first night ... and I had foolishly denied her entrance. But perhaps it would have made no difference. Perhaps I needed to see her in her majesty and in her shame to know how desperately she needed to be loved.

I heard her breath catch in her throat as I released all my defenses to her.

And then we made love.

And it was wonderful.

I awoke again, in the night, to feel the presence of Anhur Khan outside the door of the room ... but it was dimmed by her presence. They were speaking in heated words with one another, and in that moment, I remembered where the words had come from.

She had spoken them, all those years ago, when Rheannion had kidnapped us ... when she had seen me frightened. She had gazed up into the eyes of the Dark Queen of the Earth, and said, Hurt her and I'll kill you.

How could I not love one like that?

When she at last came back into the room, she was struggling to hold down tears ... and I took her in my arms, to let them free, and to change them to joy.

I knew, even as the Princess of Silver rose from Gravitas, that my mother would deduce at once what had happened. I did not know, nor care, in truth, whether she would approve. I did know that she would insist that I continue with my journeys to the other planets, and bring back each of my Guardians. I knew also that she would worry endlessly as to what this development signified in the game, never knowing that it meant nothing at all.

For that is my secret.

To me, the art of Politics has never been the Great Game, but a great Dance. Instead of struggling and competing to gain one's goals at the expense of those of others, one moves in harmony with others to create something which partakes of each of the dancers.

One day, I promise myself, and silently promise the one who watches me with her heart in her eyes, when I am Queen, the Great Game will end. And then I will teach them all to dance.

And then, perhaps, the two of us shall be able to dance together again.

The End
(For Now)

Sailor Moon was created by Naoko Takeuchi and brought to North America by DIC. The preceding story, while incorporating aspects of this motion picture held under copyright by others, is copyright 1997 by Chris Davies.

Nobody Sue Me Okay?

Panorama Interlude: The Dance, 6/08/98