Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.

Xanadu
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

It was forest of Crystal, a world of peace… the home that the souls of the good had prayed for. They had taken thousands of years to get there and now that they had they had begun to take it for granted so much that they had forgotten the gift of its paradise, they had forgotten what they had had to battle before.

The Guardian knew; the Guardian knew all. She had tried to warn them, tried to warn them not to drink too deeply from the nectar from whence their youth and immortality originated. But of course they did not listen. The Seas wept, the Winds screamed, the Earth began to wilt, and yet they did not listen. The Thunder yelled and the Fire roared, Ice descended and Love began to wilt in people's hearts, and yet they did not listen. The people knew nothing of love, nothing of happiness. All they knew in their peace was apathy because they had witnessed nothing else. The people remained ignorant and the protectors remained deaf to the cries of their planet. And then the Silence descended.

The Silence brought back hatred and war and all of the negative emotions thought to have been quashed. Of course they had never been quashed; they had merely lain dormant in mortal hearts for millennia. The Messiah of Silence had come again.

The Guardian wept; she knew this day would eventually come. She had always known and yet she had always feared it. Xanadu, this peace, it all began to fade. The Messiah of Silence was hidden and yet working her magic just as always. It always came round full circle to this in the end. The darkness descended on the people but the protectors did not see; in their complacence and happiness they were blind.

Then the final day came, the day when the protectors realised that they had drunk too deeply. The fount was choked, the nectar of immortality gone. Its power and light faded from the universe. The fount was quenched, the protectors fell, the Silence receded and the people died. An age of utopia had ended in darkness.

And all this the Guardian watched; for all this the Guardian cried; she too had drunken from the immortal fount and yet she was forced to forever remain as a mad immortal as many Gardens of Xanadu bloomed and withered from existence.

Yet there was always hope for the Guardian; every few millennia Xanadu would reappear. However she always carried with her despair, as she knew that that too would fall. The age of peace would rise and fall like the sun, for that was the nature of the Pleasure Dome, such was the nature of Xanadu.