Persephone had been spending as much time as she could, lately, on her planet. Every two weeks like clockwork she went up, and she wandered between trees and old buildings and took in everything she could find. She had finally ventured outside her old villa, and she continued to get little flashes of the planet as it had been when it was alive and home to an incredible civilization.

Vibrant, beautiful, almost romantic. Everything about Persephone in the past had been alive, and it was sad, heartbreaking even, to see it dead today.

She adored her planet, so very very much. It was a place of solitude and she knew so little of it, but it was hers.

There was one building in the old city she had yet to enter - what she thought was the central temple, based on the small flashes she had seen and the chatter she had heard in them. She was a little afraid, she had to admit, to find that her planet, which seemed so nice and peaceful, secretly had a religion of ripping out hearts to offer for a good harvest, or something equally nightmarish.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the temple, and she was immediately swept back a thousand years.

The temple was somber and silent, empty of everyone but Kore in an elegant black dress. She sat behind what had to be the main altar, and in her hands was a beautiful burgundy crystal flower.

There was a rustle, the sound of footsteps on stone, and two young women in black carrying an old man between them walked up to the altar, laying him out. Kore’s voice, when she spoke to him, was soft and sad, an expression of loss already accepted.

“Aristokles, you have lived a good life,” she said, her voice gentle, “but you are ill and in pain. Our healers cannot help you. It is my understanding that you wish for the Last Rights, and a gentle passing to the next life. Is this all true?”

The old man coughed, and his voice was weak when he spoke. “It is true, my lady. I am tired, and I do not wish to drag out these last months, and have my family watch me slip slowly. I have said goodbye to my wife and our children and their children, and I look forward to the next life with joy in my heart.”

“I am glad, then,” Kore said. She shifted the flower to one hand and closed her eyes, taking long, slow breaths. It took nearly a full minute, but finally, a gentle mist floated from the flower, surrounding the dying man. His eyes closed, and he smiled, peaceful. Kore reached into her dress, pulling out a slim black-bladed dagger, and drew it swiftly across the man’s neck. He went completely slack.

Persephone’s eyes were drawn to the altar, and there, resting on it, was the same crystal flower. How it had survived the centuries, she didn’t pretend to know, but she walked forward slowly, picking it up.

Kore had used it to ease the suffering of a dying man, to pass him gently into the next life. Maybe...maybe it still worked, and she would be able to use it similarly? Except, instead of easing someone into the Reaper's embrace, she could calm them, relieve their pain long enough to get them to a doctor, or a Senshi with proper healing magic, stronger than her own.

Yes, that was something she could do. She would use this strange flower to save lives, instead of to end them. Something told her that Kore would be proud.

[WC: 615 words]