Backdated to January 5, 2016
(1544 words) (Counts for x 3 solos)
(1544 words) (Counts for x 3 solos)
Loss
It is after the trip to the sandy planet of Altais that Fiona resolves to visit Denebola on her own. It’s a first, because she always takes a passenger-- she always gets interrupted --and it terrifies her but after going to Altais, there are too many questions she needs answered.
About a week passes and it only takes her so long because she’s busy gathering up supplies because she’s not sure how long she’ll need to say to get the answers she seeks. She doesn’t know if the memories will come in full pieces if she’s not distracted or if all she’ll get is fragmented pieces like before. Fiona really, really hopes she’ll get full memories if she focuses.
It’s a Tuesday when she visits her star and the night is crisp, cold but not freezing. She sets herself up in a little hideaway she discovered in the woods outskirting the city during one of her explorations, before she was awoken. It’s a quiet little space, beneath the roots of a great tree, easy to crawl beneath and hide in, disappear under and it’s exactly why she picks it.
She powers up as she nears her location, mindful of the blips of auras here and there. None are close by, to her relief, because she doesn’t think she has the energy to deal with anyone else. Besides, she’s worried that if she’s interrupted tonight that she won’t go at all.
It’s easy to abandon plans that aren’t well thought through. She doesn’t know what she’s going to find when she goes home, if she could consider the ruined star that, but there’s an ache of fear that rests in her belly, mingles with curl of hope that tries to nestle against her heart.
What if she finds something she’s not ready for? What if she doesn’t remember anything and the trip is wasted?
She shakes her head, tells herself no, you can’t think like that. It takes everything the senshi has to remind herself that, you are not a coward, you a lion-- strong and brave. Never doubt that. Remember strength has many forms.
It doesn’t matter how much confidence the redhead has, it’s not enough to convince herself, but it works enough to lure her into trying. As far as she knows, there’s nothing on her star that could kill her, but there’s so much in Destiny City that could.
She needs to take a leap of faith, so she does.
Crossing her legs and making sure her pack is strung across her back, Denebola inhales sharply and hits send.
She arrives in the same field as the one she’d arrived in when she’d brought Loke. The sight is no less heart wrenching as it was last time
The homes around her are in ruins, dragonfly mount corpses littering the area, and there are skeletons scattered among the grass with vegetation growing up through the cracks in the bones.
It does not bring her to her knees like the first time, but she bites back a sob and grips the strap strung across her chest tightly.
She will not cry, she is stronger than that.
(And how can she cry over people she doesn’t even know?)
She takes carefully steps through the grass, two-colored eyes eyeing the grass warily like it might conceal something she isn’t ready to see. Still, she doesn’t see the skull before she steps, heel of her wedges crushing the fragile bone easily. She lets out a startled gasp, feels tears well in the corners of her eyes.
Why is this so hard?
Where has her strength, her courage gone?
Elu would not cry over the dead.
The dead are gone and the living are hungry, a voice whispers, soft and fleeting like a breeze. It sends chills down her spine and she tries not to shudder.
She pushes forward, painted lips pressed into a line of determination as she makes her way towards one of the huts, she doesn’t get very far when her vision floods with red, fire, flames, and all she can hear is screaming, crying. There is pain, so much pain as she falls to her knees, hands clasped over her ears and the world shifts in front of her.
The trees are on fire-- it’s spreading rapidly across the forest and the trees are screaming in agony. The star is screaming in agony. The warrior-girl is spinning in circles, heart rattling against her ribcage, and her mind a whirl-- unsure of where to start or where to intervene.
It’s chaos and the tents catch on fire, her people spilling from their homes in terror and confusion.
There are knights of Saturn scattered around her, weapons drawn fending off the invaders that pour from unfamiliar ships on her port. Her fellow huntresses and warrior-bred are armed and defending Denebola.
Elu’s own bow, an intricately carved longbow, is strung and drawn with arrows aimed and singing through the air. Arrow after arrow zip across the sky, sinking into invader after invader. Her brow beads with sweat as she watches the bodies fall around her while she notches her next arrow until--
“Elu!”
Crims’s screaming her name, desperate to be heard above cries of her people. “Elu are you--” An attacker cuts him off and her friend is forced to defend himself.
Her attention is drawn away by her own assailant and she has to use her bow to defend herself since her knives are back in her hut. It was poor planning on her part, but the chaos left her little time to think of what she needed-- she’d grabbed her bow and quiver and dashed out to quell things.
But, there will be no peace to be made-- the invaders are dragging off her people and there’s so many voices screaming, crying.
There is a coil curling and clenching around her heart, constricting her and preventing her from acting rationally. She is supposed to be Denebola’s protector, but so many are hurt, dead, or missing and all she can focus on is fighting and the adrenaline pumping through her.
“Let go of me!” A child shrieks, struggling against the strong arms of a captor and Elu’s vision goes white with fury.
“Get your hands off of her!” She snarls, shoving the man back. “You cannot have her.” The little girl breaks free and runs, right into the arms of Crims, tears streaming down her face.
“Fine,” the pirate sneers, eyes sweeping over her lecherously. “You’ll fetch a better sum at the market.”
“Burn in hell,” she hisses in response, blocking his hand with her bow when he attempt to hit or grab her. “You will get no one.”
A second pirate joins the first and both look at her in a manner that would make her shudder if she did not have to expend so much energy on defending herself and keeping them distracted as Crims hid the girl away. If this were any other battle, any other day, it would not matter that she had two opponents, but her energy levels are dropping and her muscles groaning in protest and she defends, attacks, and defends again.
Amongst the chaos it is too much.
Her star is crying, weeping for the people it’s lost and for the way it burns, the symbol of Denebola flaring on her forehead as it attempts to re-energize her.
It makes matters worse, because it draws the attention of the pirate’s captains.
“My, my,” the large man cooes, staring at the glowing dragonfly. “You’re the senshi, that just made you more valuable.” His head tips back and laughter booms from his chest, fills the air. “Take her,” he orders and suddenly her opponents go from two to seven.
Elu realizes she has no hope of winning and still, she fights and hopes that Crims or anyone comes to her aid.
No one does and eventually, her body gives out on her and she is captured.
Wearily she thinks she hears Crims screaming, “Elu! Elu!” before her vision goes black.
The vision fades and Fiona jolts back into the present gasping for air. Her throat is raw, burning from inhaling smoke that does not exist and she can feel the lick of flames on her skin, the battering of her skin even though no bruises line her arms.
The tears she’d been attempting to hold back spill down her cheeks, fat drops that slide down her jaw and drip down into the grass. Her fingers dig into the dirt, curl into her palms with blades of grass breaking between her fingers while her body shakes from the weight of her sobbing.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn’t save anyone. It’s all my fault. I failed-- I failed,” she cries to the empty air. “I wasn’t strong enough, I’m not strong enough. I will never be strong enough. I let you down.” She apologizes to her star, shaking her head, scraping at her tears with her dirty palms. Her breathing is uneven, stuttered gasps for air keeping her from speaking again.
It doesn’t matter, there is no one to hear her anyway.
