Author: Silver Sailor Ganymede PM
Sometimes she wondered about the cause she served, about whether the Gods truly had any right to decide what was 'good', what was 'evil' and what was 'just.'Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst - Setsuna M./Sailor Pluto - Words: 409 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 5 - Published: 10-29-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3220102
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.
(A.N: Today is October 29th, which means… happy birthday Setsuna!)
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Sometimes she had doubts as to whether what she was doing was the right thing, whether it had any true reason or impact on the flow of time. She was the daughter of a god, that much was true, but she was also the daughter of a mortal; no supreme ethereal being was the Guardian of Time.
Sometimes she wished that she had truly been a full immortal; then she would not have been trapped like she was. Immortals had no duties to the mortal world, much less ones for which they would die if they went against their commands. Her father would never understand, he would never let her go, not even on that day, the day that pained her most when it came around.
She could not remember when she was born, so she marked the countless years from the day she had first been imprisoned in this living Hell. Eons had past, time beyond human immagining: she could not even remember how long it had been since she had truly felt any emotions for another, except of course for those short times when she was thrown into the world to help them murder and destroy in the name of 'justice.'
Nothing mattered any more; her enitre world, her entire life was made up of the endless mists around her, mists that only served to strengthen her doubts. Humanity was not born good or evil, nothing was black and white, so why did she have to serve them in such a way, and who were the Gods to declare what was 'good' and what was 'evil?'
"Stop your lamenting and leave this place for a while," a voice whispered, causing her to start and turn around.
"You're allowing me to leave?" she asked in astonishment, though she knew exactly whom it was that she was speaking to: her father, Chronos.
"Yes, now go," Chronos whispered again, "If only for today, go and live a life like you would have always had were it not for the curse they placed upon you."
She took one tentative step and then another, and soon she had left the halls of time behind her and whatever doubts she may have had had vanished into the swirling mists that she had left behind, if only for a while.