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He had not been out for quite a while. But when he appeared again, it was just a blink of an eye between one moment and the last. A year was an arbitrary measure of time, and a short one at that: Kurma's natural state of being was a simple pleasure in existing and a lack of concern for the passage of time. Temporary things were accepted as such with a knowing smile. Eternal things were appreciated and reached out to in kinship -- it was a rare, deeply sad instance in which the eternal was turned temporary. Chaos had once again proven its ability to act on the possibility.

Snowflakes disintegrated into water the moment they touched his outstretched hands. Tonight, try as he might (and he was not one to try at things often), he could not allow his thoughts to drift towards eternal things.

Not when he had been an instrument in the demise of one. Not when the foreign sensation of guilt was plaguing his psyche. Not when, against the ever-shifting chorus of the universe, there was small but terrible pinprick of silence, enormous in the unnaturalness of it.

Gravity was a heavy cloak around his shoulders. Kurma's feet were planted firmly on the ground, making dragging prints down an unplowed sidewalk.

Meeting someone new was supposed to always be a happy occasion. And, on some level, it was -- a suppressed joy, evident only in his immediate willingness to make eye contact with the senshi and say “Hi.” Familiar wing accoutrements graced her uniform. This senshi had achieved great power. In spite of himself, he wondered how much knowledge of herself she had gained on her journey.

“If you seek a fight, then you’d do better looking elsewhere,” the man replied. One hand was peaceably raised, and the other kept his orb tucked under his arm. “I am called Kurma. I am a guide to the cosmos. I can do no harm.” It was somewhat stilted, as far as introductions went. “Though I suppose, if it suits, I can also be a friend.”

A lighthearted smile brushed at his features, but faltered before it could become genuine.

“Funny thing... it was also snowing when I first met the senshi of nowadays,” he remarked, by means of conversation. “Though I think I haven’t met you. Or if I have, it’s been a while.”

Kurma was unphased by the initial suspicion, the battle-ready stance. Others had reacted to his presence in much the same way, both in more recent times and in older times. Not everyone was eager to form acquaintanceships with everyone they met, which was a strange reality to him, but one that did did not stop him from trying. "It's alright," he replied. "There's no shame in caution."

The senshi hadn't told him her name yet. From what he'd gathered, such a thing was... impolite. But she was eager with questions -- about him. They were unusual things to ask. It took him a while to answer. For a moment, he let his gaze drift to the ground, contemplating.

"I am usually alone," he began, "and I'm usually lost in thought."

A funny thing to admit, but true nonetheless.

"And... I don't need protection." Even though it was possible, perhaps even easy, to kill him. This, however, had never been a cause of concern. "If anything happens to me, I'll be back around eventually."

Which checked the third item off the list. Simple questions, simple answers. Was that it, though? It left Kurma's side of the conversation wanting. Usually he liked to draw questions out of those he met. This way of conducting himself didn't seem like it was suiting him tonight. It was wearing on him already. He looked back at his companion for the evening.

"Mind telling me where you're from?" He was gesturing at her brooch and tiara -- evidently, he wasn't asking for her hometown. "And, if you can, I... have another question."

"Kallichore," he repeated. "Think I've heard that's an interesting place. You should tell me about it sometime." In that, he assumed she had been there. Time since his last visit with any senshi had been short, but also ample enough that many must have learned how to travel, and attempted it themselves. "Meeting anyone is a privilege. And, so, I also feel privileged to meet you."

Another brief smile, and an affirming nod. "Ah, but... my question..." Considering it made his demeanor hollow out a bit. It was a difficult subject to speak on. "You must know many senshi, if you've come this far..." he began, slowly, gesturing again to her uniform. "So I wish to know..."

Breathe.

"...if you knew Sailor Alkaid... of Guidance."

"Honor... luck... and gratitude..." Kurma pondered, "have nothing to do with my purpose. All things received from me are lost things returned to their rightful owners." The formalities were regarded with a slow, but still dismissive handwave. He had no desire to be elevated or feel important. "I have not met every senshi in the cosmos. But that is because such a feat hasn't been so easy to pull off."

The guide listened carefully, hopefully, to Kallichore's words -- even though they were disappointing from the outset. Disemboweling her? That was not the Alkaid he remembered. And there was a name that sounded like a name from one of Chaos's latest gambits... Li'l Moon and Cosmos referred to them as the Negaverse. A defeated look seeped into his features at the story. He knew nothing of Ares, or of the Blood Moon Court. But he had learned that Alkaid must have been under the influence of dark forces for a while.

"So you did not know her before she was lost," he concluded. "But you knew her before she was Silenced."

Indeed, things had changed.

A simple thanks, brought about by a sense of honor, he could accept. Kurma silently allowed the apology with another slow nod. There was no need for no words to debate the issue further: she was grateful, he did not need to receive gratitude to feel fulfilled. It was an acceptable, silent agreement.

Tanzanite.

Kurma's composure faltered. The questions were painful ones. It was a foreign feeling to be asked painful questions, and a worse one to recognize his wishes to avoid them. His brow furrowed, worry lines sprouting across his forehead, as he averted his gaze from Kallichore for a moment. He was no longer standing, but sitting crosslegged in midair, hands clutching at his knees. It had not just been Tanzanite. His own involvement was equal cause, and that was unforgivable.

"You can see the star Alkaid from here. It's found in the constellation Ursa Major."

His gaze did not turn to the sky. It remained fixed on the orb in his lap.

"Or... it was... and soon... it will no longer be part of the sky here."

Light took a while to travel. This, people were aware of, and the nightscape seen on Earth was the light of an earlier era. Remembering this, and being able to see Alkaid's star as if nothing had happened to it at all, had been unbearable.

"I don't know what became of the senshi. But her star has been swallowed by Chaos. It cannot be restored. Its voice has been taken from the cosmos. Silenced."

There was the word again. He looked back at Kallichore.

Kurma did not seem to notice the offer of a comforting hand. He was, as she had asked but a few minutes ago, lost in thought. The physical world around him disappeared as he recalled what he had witnessed: being flung from space, claw wounds running deep through his chest, had been the least painful of the whole experience. The death throes of the star still haunted his thoughts, and Perry's dreams.

Kallichore's reactions were understandable. It matched what he was feeling inside. And to her questions, he could only answer with a pained, "Yes." His voice was hoarse and wavering around the word.

"Alkaid went willingly. Chaos had blinded her to her true self."

I tried to open her eyes again, and failed, was the unspoken.

The burden of knowledge was no less heavy upon being shared. Kurma gave a pained and weary sigh, a background noise to Kallichore's observations. "Yes... it has," he agreed, in a low near-whisper to match the senshi's own. In most occasions, he believed, there was always a chance to free someone from the grasp of Chaos. But, in the case of Alkaid, he could offer no such hope.

"I don't know of a way to reverse a Silencing, Kallichore."

Metallia had already taken everything the young senshi had to offer: her soul, her body, her power, her very star itself. The path to rebirth had been closed to Alkaid forever. All that was left to hope for her was that her fractured mind and body weren't suffering anymore... and that as future eras passed, she wouldn't be forgotten.

"I'd hoped you might know more about who Alkaid was here on Earth," he explained. "You do not. That is fine. However, it seems like you know of others who are lost."