Welcome to Gaia! ::

For as unwelcoming as the Hall of the Ancients was inside, outside was worse. Made of sleek black stones, the fortress was an ominous figure. It was tall and imposing, and each spire and sharp curve looked like it was ready to slice through the sky. It could have been considered beautiful, once you got past how intimidating it was. From the outside, it was difficult to make out the stained glass. Once, gold and gemstones decorated it. Now, what the lightning hadn’t charred, the storm had battered and chipped away.

The clouds were knit tightly across the sky, and while the lightning occasionally flashed in the distance, the thunder was only a quiet mumble. When it echoed, it sounded like whispers. Scheming. Preparing.

The ground was saturated with water and every step felt like standing on a sponge. The grass was brittle, but it wasn’t slippery. A great stone wall encircled the Hall, with plenty of room to spare. Watchtowers lined the wall at regular intervals, and though they didn’t offer much defense, their primary purpose was to protect the lights he’d installed. Fire burned brightly behind thick glass to protect against wind and rain and shadow, but spotlights had been installed. They looked out of place, but they were practical.

Outside, the clouds hung low; they were dark and it was difficult to make out what time of day it was on Alastor.

Within the walls, towards the North, was a grassy field. In the center of it, a massive oak tree with black bark, and specks of gold inlaid. It had no leaves, but that wasn’t surprising given the weather. To the East, a waterlogged, withered garden, and a wall that looked like it had been recently damaged. The sound of the rushing river was loudest there. To the South, an underground storage chamber. To the West, the front of the Hall, and the path to the gates that led outside. The forest, distant and dark and the greatest source of Chaos, was just past here.

But, there were other locations, radiating chaotic waves.

A grove of trees to the southwest seemed to be a stronghold for it, something underground near the southern storage chamber in the Hall, to the East, directly across the river, and another to the SouthEast, where there seemed to be some obstruction to the flowing river. Further up the river, lurking in the treeline, another one.

Eternal Sailor Lysithea, Senshi of Unicorns and her Court, Eternal Sailor Malus, Senshi of Glass, Eternal Sailor Adria, Senshi of Sunsets, Super Sailor Varuna, Senshi of Avalanches, and Eternal Sailor Ilse, Senshi of the Unattainable, have been tasked with guarding the front Gate, and for now they were standing between the massive doors and the entrance to the Hall. From here, they could see The North and South Wall. The clouds swirled around them. Alastor and Sessrumnir had left for the forest and had just disappeared into the darkness. The light from the Hall was bright, but the cloud of Chaos seemed to be crashing down upon them.

Cold eyes seemed to stare the Court down, and already the shadows from the forest seemed to be stretching closer.

Super Sailor Varuna

The first thing Varuna did was take off her heels. There was no sense in fighting monsters made of Chaos when she was already going to be sinking into the saturated ground. She didn’t mind getting her feet dirty, but she also wished she’d brought some of her riding boots with her. Those were made for slopping around in the mud.

It would have been foolish, reckless and arrogant even, to not be afraid of the impending Chaos that would likely try to get by them. But as long as everyone else did what they were supposed to, she hoped that they could keep the Chaos disbursed enough to give them all a fighting chance.

She reached over to gently touch Lysithea’s arm in encouragement, before turning to make sure Adria was doing okay.

“I am not as strong as you, but I can still do my part,” she said quietly to the others. “If I call my attack, stay behind me.” She would rather not have anyone get hurt because of her.

Eternal Sailor Malus, Senshi of Glass and Eternal Sailor Adria, Senshi of Sunsets

Adria was undeniably uncomfortable. He stood with his arms crossed tightly across his stomach, and he chewed on his lower lip. He had little confidence in himself; he wasn’t the best fighter, and the Chaos on this world was smothering. He couldn’t imagine what he’d have done if he was alone on a world that felt like this.

He wished he could go back to ten minutes ago, where the only thing he had to worry about was being flustered with Varuna kissing his cheek. Now, she and Lysithea were taking off their shoes. He toed at the muddy ground, but he thought he’d be better off with his boots. Malus must have thought the same, because he was shifting his weight and watching how the ground shifted.

It seemed like they were all trying to get their bearings.

“I, um. I make. Sunsets.” Adria chewed on the inside of his cheek again. “They don’t really hurt or anything, they’re just a distraction. So if you see a big ball of light that looks like it’s sinking, it’s nothing to be worried about. Don’t look at it, it won’t hurt, it’s just bright.”

Adria offered an apologetic smile.

“I’ve got glass,” Malus said. “My strongest attack is dangerous, I’ll let you know if I’m using it. Makes glass pop up all around me, it’s really sharp, I don’t want anyone to get cut.”

He nudged a bit more mud; he looked at the ground, and then the dark forest, and then up at the sky. The clouds seemed to have darkened, and he didn’t like the way they looked as if they were swirling over the forest, now.

Thunder struck, not far. It was loud and jarring. In the distance, the whisper of rain.

The storm was coming. And with it, the shadows.

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Orangeish Sherbert

Guine

Noir Songbird

Super Sailor Varuna

There might have been a hint of amusement on Varuna’s face when Lysithea also kicked off her shoes. Varuna hadn’t expected that, but thought it was going to be a lot easier to slosh around with bare feet than in heels. And even with the stockings, at least Lysithea’s feet were protected somewhat.

She nodded to Adria, Malus, and Ilse when they explained what their magic did.

“Malus and I should be on the outside of the group,” she suggested. Since it seemed as though they were the only two with what could be categorized as offensive magic, that would likely be the best way to protect everyone.

“Adria, Ilse, and Lysithea can throw mudballs.”

It was a joke. Her expression didn’t really change, but given the seriousness of the situation, maybe she should try to keep her already deadpan humor to a minimum, lest the others think she was serious. Well, maybe she was half serious. At least they would have something physical to attack with.

“I can’t imagine why Soleiyu didn’t want to join us.”

Another joke, despite her rather blank expression.

Eternal Sailor Malus, Senshi of Glass and Eternal Sailor Adria, Senshi of Sunsets

Despite Adria’s nervousness, he laughed twice when Varuna spoke, even if he tried to keep it to himself. The first time he tried to turn away and hide it, the second time he put a hand over his mouth. His stomach still felt like a wet rag someone was wringing out, but he smiled appreciatively at her.

Malus was too anxious to laugh; his brows were knit and he almost didn’t even seem to hear her. It was a few seconds later that he flashed a quick smile, but most of his dread seemed sourced in the fact that he had to stay on the outside of the group. It made sense! He understood why!

It was just a dreadful prospect. He sucked in a breath and trudged a bit further away from the group–not too far!–just far enough that if he had to use his magic, there was a little room between them.

Adria looked down at the mud with something like suppressed disgust, but he was trying to be a good sport about all of this. Mud wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He had gloves on, but he hadn’t ever really had the chance to test how well they held up against mud.

At least today was going to be a learning day.

And, they’d better learn fast.

Lightning struck nearby, sharp and loud, with such force that it sent an electric hum through the air. It was distracting and disorienting to anyone who wasn’t braced for it.

The shadows crept through the West Gate when the light faded. They moved like thin tendrils, weaving through the grass and splitting the mud. It looked like a string through wet clay.

Someone called from behind them–a desperate, weak, “Help!” But no one was there.

The shadows were trick, and demanding, and as they came through the gate they split into separate paths and, at great speed, surrounded the Court.

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Orangeish Sherbert

Guine

Noir Songbird

Super Sailor Varuna

Varuna could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Shadows were creeping closer, spreading out like some kind of shadowy vine. The lightning that struck nearby was deafening, but not enough to drown out the cry for help. She heard it, and her eyes narrowed as Ilse did probably exactly what the voice was trying to do -- distract them. Make them look away from the shadows closing in on them.

While she didn’t think throwing anything at potentially someone real calling for help, she didn’t turn to look to see if there was anyone. Instead, she quickly reached out her hand to gently place on Lysithea's arm to try and stop her from turning to do the same.

“The Chaos is coming from outside the walls. Don’t look away,” she cautioned, her voice barely audible above the wind.

She didn’t like how the shadows were closing in. It was too fast. They were too unprepared for whatever it was.

She broke formation temporarily, quickly stepping out in front of the group, between them and the rapidly approaching shadows.

“Snow slip,” she called, forcing the snow to rise up from the ground and roll forward over the dark mud.

At least with the snow, they should be able to see the approaching shadows easier, even if the magic did nothing to stop it.

Ilse’s attempt to attack the shadows was only marginally effective; it weaved around her attack but kept coming straight towards her, straight towards them.

Varuna’s assault was more effective; the bright snow gave stark contrast to the wave of shadows, but once the landscape changed it was as if they realized they’d lost the advantage. The snow tumbled the Chaos, held it back–enraged it.

The shadows suddenly surged with such ferocity that they washed over the entire wall, like a flood of sticky black tar. It erupted, splattering the sky with darkness before raining down on them–and then it slammed down on them, too.

It felt like the entire ocean was crushing them, and no matter how ready they were for the collision, the shadows were more prepared.

For a few seconds, the lights didn’t matter. The Chaos was stronger than them, stronger than everything.

The Court was separated, washed to different corners. It felt like they were sinking–or swimming, or floating in an infinite mass of darkness.

The world outside was lost to them–and they were lost to it.

They could breathe; though they were separated, it felt like each of them had found a pocket of air, and though the dark water kept splashing into their faces, their mouths. It was suffocating, and sometimes a thread of light broke through–always just enough to give them hope to keep moving. Sometimes, it felt like they were close to solid land–maybe they felt it at their feet, or felt a platform in front of them.

There was a way out. They just had to get there.

Ilse was alone, in a bubble where she could hear her heartbeat and her breathing, and–a Senshi. That looked like her. Looked a lot like her. Their uniforms were so similar that it almost seemed like–

Oh. It was.

Sailor Ilse, but a different Ilse. The one before her. Strong, and confident, and beautiful. She radiated with a light that seemed to shrivel the shadows closest to her. She held out her hand.

“Take my hand, I can save you.”

But, another voice echoed, like a thought, Ilse shouldn’t have heard.

‘But should I bother?’

Varuna was dragged under the water once, twice; the Chaos had a good hold of her and every time it tried to drag her down, she found her way back up. And then, arms wrapped around her. A golden light erupted in the darkness, and Adria was there with a setting sun behind him. He looked determined and desperate, and black streaks stretched from his hairline. He looked a little sick, and coughed up some of the shadowy filth.

“Varuna,” he rasped; he was warm against her, and drew her up to the surface. “Are you okay? We have to get out of here. I can’t find the others.”

Lysithea reached a platform in the water, but her uniform was soaked and the darkness staind the fabric black. Black, like before.

The darkness tugged at her; it was wrapped around her ankle and yanked her into the water she was surrounded in. Dark walls surrounded her, but she managed to pull herself back up. Someone was coughing next to her–Malus.

He screamed, a choked, desperate noise.

“L–”

The water dragged him under. He clawed at the empty space, so close to the platform. He could almost pull himself up, but–

His hand changed. His fingers stretched out, rigid and trembling. They turned black. The darkness was seeping into him, changing him.

It was still his voice when he screamed again, but it was changing.

His eyes were glowing and golden, and he was shrinking, and–

Malus couldn’t hold his form. The darkness was trying to youmafy him.

No matter how hard he fought, there was nothing he could do.

And, as it claimed him, he was calling for her.

Malus tried. He fought, and fought, and–

Failed.

His voice turned into a squeak, a wail.

His form was misshapen and unfamiliar; it was undeniably a youma, a monster, but its form shifted and warped. What Lysithea did not remember, it could not replicate, but it did the best it could. It created a little beast based on what it could remember. It took fragments of stories she’d been told and twisted them into nightmares.

Malus drew himself onto the solid platform and panted, but there was no recognition; he shook like a dog and dark water sprayed in every direction.

She had wasted her magic.

Which was a shame, because Adria really could have used some.

When he came into view, he was coughing up something dark, and it almost looked like the shadowy tar, but–

No, that was blood. Dark, sticky blood. Adria must have lost a lot already; he was so pale that he stood out in the darkness like a beacon. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and maybe he thought that if he’d found Lysithea, he’d make it. She’d saved him before, hadn’t he? He’d said she had.

“Lysithea,” he whispered. “I can’t,” he shook his head. “I have to go home, I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

Blood trickled down his lips and he was trying to reach her. He stumbled, but he didn’t fall. He reached for her, tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you. Please, can we go?”