Backdated to late April/early May.
Word Count: 1825
“I pledge my life and loyalty to Ganymede, and to Yvoire. I humbly request your aid, so that in return I may give you mine.”
They appeared within a ruin, a wide hallway scattered with all manner of debris. Chunks of stone in various sizes, splintered wood, and shattered glass littered the floor. A thick layer of dust and decay seemed to cover everything. The air was heavy with it. Yvoire dropped Ganymede’s hand and turned on the spot, searching for light, for life.
A cold breeze carried through the damaged windows. Beyond them, a brilliant blue sky reminded Yvoire of Earth. A few white clouds drifted above; otherwise, the sky was clear. Yvoire went to the nearest window and looked out onto a living world.
Far away, beyond the boundaries of his wonder, the trees stood tall and strong, with leaves in shades of yellow, orange, and red, which came loose and fluttered to the grass below. Something soared from one of the branches, wings outstretched as it took to the sky, but it was so small and so far Yvoire couldn’t make out the details. Soon, it was little more than a spec on the horizon.
“Welcome to Yvoire,” Ganymede said, joining him at the window.
Yvoire tested the strength of the wall, then leaned against it and stuck his head out. Judging by the distant scenery, he thought the air should be fresh and clear, but the scent of decay lingered. From his vantage point, he saw that they were in a large, stone structure on the bank of a sizable island in the middle of a wide river. Other structures sat in various states of disrepair, both on the island and across the river, but his Wonder seemed to be in a worse state by far.
“What is this place?” Yvoire asked, taking in the stone facade, the broken paths, the shriveled mess that might have once been lush greenery. “A castle?”
“Yvoire was its own kingdom once,” Ganymede said. “I think. Some of what Liesel knew still isn’t clear, but I’ve learned some history through him. Centuries before our previous lives, Ganymede was split into a handful of kingdoms. This castle was the seat of the royal family at the time. When the other kingdoms fell through war or consolidated through marriage, the royal family eventually made their new capital in the city of Lutetia.”
“And Yvoire became a Wonder?”
“The castle, yes. From what I remember, there’s at least one other Wonder in the city. A cathedral on the opposite bank. You can see it from the other side of the castle.”
Yvoire gazed out at the death and destruction that tarnished the castle, then to the life which existed beyond.
“Everything’s dead here,” he said.
“The more you visit and care for it, the more Yvoire will live again,” Ganymede explained. “When I first came to Ganymede, the entire world was dark. Nothing grew. Everything seemed to have been destroyed. But, slowly, it became what you see in the distance. Yvoire can be that, too.”
Again, Yvoire looked to the trees beyond the limits of his Wonder. “It’s fall.”
“It’ll be winter soon,” Ganymede said, “It’s a nice break from summer on Earth.”
She laughed and smiled. When Yvoire gazed up at her, he caught a rare glimmer of joy in her eyes. She loved it here, on the world whose name she shared.
“Does it snow?” he asked.
“Out there, yes. I don’t know if it will here. Years ago, there wasn’t any weather anywhere. Ganymede needed time to heal. Yvoire probably will, too.”
She left the window and picked her way through the debris. Shards of glass crunched underfoot. A shower of plaster dusted the floor when she moved a large piece of rubble out of the way. She treated it all with care, even those pieces that seemed like unimportant junk.
“Come on,” she said. “I remember where Ellis’s room was.”
Yvoire followed, peering out other windows as they went. Together, they picked their way down the hall, stepping over the remains of a long forgotten home. Tapestries hung from the walls in shreds, their colors blackened. Other decorations had fallen — indistinguishable paintings and tarnished metal sconces, vases shattered into pieces so fine they seemed beyond repair. At some point in time, the walls had been plastered and painted, but any color had long since faded and flaked away; holes in the plaster revealed rough stone beneath. The twisted remains of chandeliers presented obstacles for them to walk around or step over. The bright sky and distant trees seemed so cheerful, but Yvoire itself was a sad, desolate place.
“What happened here?” Yvoire asked when they came upon a large hole in the wall.
“I don’t know,” Ganymede replied. The sadness had returned. Her eyes stared through the hole, unseeing. “Ganymede was at war with itself when the Silver Millennium came to an end. Liesel fled to Jupiter. I don’t know if he ever learned what became of the rest of the royal family, but… I imagine most of them were killed.”
They turned down another hall, then another, and another, making their way to the opposite side of the castle. Yvoire kept his eye out for ghosts or memories, but saw nothing through the destruction. The castle was silent but for their footsteps, empty but for their voices, still but for their breath on the stale air, and the occasional breeze that brought with it a whisper of far off life.
Eventually, they came to a large, open doorway. The double doors that once stood guard now laid in a broken heap upon the ground. Yvoire and Ganymede had no choice but to step on them as they made their way through; Ganymede did so with care and reverence, so Yvoire followed her example.
The room would have been wide and airy if not for the wreckage. The heap of a broken bed sat off to one side. Other furniture lay shattered, thrown from their proper places to spill their contents along the battered wooden floors. Here, too, the glass from every window had been smashed open. The entirety of one wall had caved in, creating a sheer drop into the murky river below.
Yvoire turned on the spot, stared around, and tried to imagine what it must have been like when his Wonder was whole.
“What was Ellis like?”
Ganymede paused in her explorations. She looked pensive. The sadness in her gaze seemed to deepen.
“Young. Sweet. Carefree. I don’t want to tell you too much,” she said with some regret. “It’s better if you learn it all yourself, I think. A deeper connection to your Wonder can be a powerful thing. Experiencing it on your own can help with that.”
“I don’t see anything,” Yvoire told her.
“Give it time.”
They sifted through centuries of detritus. Yvoire found books he couldn’t read, crumpled papers with faded writing he didn’t recognize, fabric that was so torn and stained he couldn’t determine what it might have come from. Anything that might once have been of value must have been stolen long ago, but every once in a while Yvoire found something that spoke to Ellis’s wealth. A stuck drawer in a bureau yielded a case of jewelry when he managed to pry it open. In a similarly mired desk compartment, he found a pocket watch of gold filigree decorated with wine colored jewels, a set of fountain pens, a jeweled letter opener, a crisp stack of paper, and a solitary ring — a thin band of gold, with the symbol of Ganymede engraved onto the flat, oval face.
“You’ll want that, if it’s what I think it is,” Ganymede told him, coming closer to examine it.
“What is it?” Yvoire asked.
Against the desecrated opulence around them, the ring looked rather simple in design — plain, with no other adornments.
“A signet ring,” Ganymede said. “You can send messages with it. Some knights can even channel magic through theirs. You can bring it to a Mauvian to upgrade to make communication with Senshi easier.”
“A Mauvian?”
“Otherwise known as a Guardian Cat. They’re a technologically advanced race who work alongside Senshi. You’ve seen one before.”
That must have been the ruddy cat with the golden bow Yvoire had seen with Ganymede the first night he encountered her.
In disbelief, Yvoire asked, “What can a cat do?”
“A lot, surprisingly,” Ganymede said. “Don’t underestimate them. Don’t be surprised when they speak to you, either.”
Yvoire clutched the signet ring, fingers tight around it, pressing the cool metal into his palm. Just when he thought he was beginning to understand something about what being a knight meant, he learned something new. It seemed he’d only begun to scratch the surface. The war spanned centuries — life, millennia. Knowledge of it all stretched further than he could even comprehend.
He pocketed the ring, glanced around the broken room and hoped to see a flicker of something, anything to show him what it must have been like long ago. He imagined it was beautiful, the height of luxury, that Ellis, whoever he was, must have been content here.
A cool breeze drew Yvoire toward the collapsed wall. Bits of stone and plaster still littered the floor, but much of it must have fallen into the river below. He could stand at the edge without tripping on stray rubble and stare out onto Ganymede with an unobstructed view.
Even the water looked dead, but if he gazed far enough, beyond the reach of his Wonder, the water seemed to clear. It sparkled in the light of day. The large, stormy face of Jupiter reflected upon its surface.
Further along the castle’s facade, a series of stone arches stretched along the water in even intervals. Once, it might have been a bridge that spanned the river, but it was so badly damaged Yvoire didn’t think it would be possible to cross it. Most of the architecture that spanned it had collapsed. Large gaps had opened in spots, separating some of the arches from one another.
At the opposite end was more of the city. Rising from among smaller homes and shops was another impressive structure in a similar state of disrepair. From the towers and the decorative windows, and the spire Yvoire could see just beyond them, he assumed it was the cathedral Ganymede spoke of earlier. He stared at it while the wind whipped his hair around his face, and got the haunting sense that he should know it, too.
Ganymede stepped close beside him, head tipped back to cast her gaze on Jupiter.
“Yvoire belongs to you now,” she said, “just as you belong to Yvoire. Take care of each other.”
Yvoire inhaled deeply, tried to catch some of that fresh, clear air he knew must wait for him out there, but only sadness and rot filled his lungs.
