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Drawn in Dust
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

The Moon had been beautiful once, the girl remembered as she trudged through the ruins of the kingdom. Yes, it had been so beautiful, the utopia of which they had once spoken had been born on Earth thankss to the distant, cold Moon, but now Eden had once again become as distant as the shining orb itself. No more did argentine fire shine over a glorious world: now only dim slivers of dulled grey shadows did pierce through the pollution that surrounded the cripled Empire.

The girl felt tears come into her eyes as she thought of the past, a past so distant it seemed no more to her then than a memory from a dream, something intangible that had long ago been lost forever. At first she had bitterly resented the kingdom's coming, as with its birth so she had died, so her dreams had died, so everything she had been before had died once and for all.

There was no need, she knew, to reminisce and think of things that never had been and never would be. She was a soldier, a protector, a fighter, a leader, never the idol that she wished to be, never revered in her own right. Ambition had been her downfall in the end she supposed: she should have just listened to him. He had known everything that was to come, had he not? Just as he had known what would become of him back in their first lives, as he had known that they could never be together no matter their own feelings; their only duty was to protect their repective monarchs, they had no time for love themseleves.

Tears began to fall freely as she continued to walk, eventually finding herself by the ruins of the once grand Crystal Palace, where the very centre of their utopia had once been. Yes, she thought, he had loved her as she had loved him in their previous lives, but he had been captured by the demon queen again, thus being turned and eventually dying at her own hands. She fell to her knees, the night air cold around her, though not as cold as she knew she herself had been: perhaps if she had loved him more in their first life then this would never have happened, the shitennou would never had betrayed them. Perhaps if she had loved him more in her second life then they would never have succumbed again to the Dark Kingdom's hold. Perhaps if she had found him and loved him in this final life then their Crystal Kingdom would still be alive.

Kunzite, his name echoed through her mind, Kunzite. Why had Queen Beryl risen a third time and taken him from her once more? He would never remember her now, she knew; she doubted whether he even knew who he himself was: he had become nothing more than a puppet to Beryl, such a strong man broken down to shards of ice by such a 'queen' as Beryl.

She summoned her sword to her, the sword with which she and the other guardian senshi of Serenity had once been trusted. Its topaz hilt glinted even in the dim light and she stared at it as though she were entranced. How easy it would be, she thought, to pierce her heart with this blade, just as Serenity had done so long ago. It would be better by far than this ruined world had become, and besides she was certain that she would not feel it; her heart had died a long time ago, in an emotional sense at least. Then again perhaps she was already physically dead, kept alive only by what was left of the ginzuishou, and if that was the case then she had little longer to bear.

She shook her head and let the sword fall to the ground. No, committing suicide would only prove her to be even more of a coward than she already was; she wouldn't do it, she couldn't do it, even when all hope had died. In the end her dreams were only figures drawn in dust, ashes of a lost kingdom blown away on the winds of Hell.