I do not own Sailor Moon. The main character's appearance, name, and abilities are based on Assassin's Creed; however, the essence of the character of Desmond Miles/Altair are not. I do not own Assassin's Creed either.

The Flying One, a Sailor Moon Story

The Queen and the Sword

The sand shifted like a snake across the desert. The dunes rose and fell like ocean waves in a pristine and perfect form. The desert was serene and still in that moment as the wind blew carrying the sand. High atop one of the dunes, a man stood holding his arm over his eyes. He was difficult to see as the sand blanketed his presence, but he stood looking off into the distance. The man was draped in a white robe while the hood of the robe covered his head. The man, also carrying heavy equipment, surveyed the area for a moment then began to travel down the dune. The sand blew thick and hard into his face. He shut his eyes to keep from being blinded. Stepping on a soft patch of sand, his foot sank downward, and he fell down the dune. He landed at the trough of the dunes headfirst. He regained his strength and looked up. Within the haze of the sand, a light appeared before him. He stared forward, looking intently at the beautiful bright light. A form began to appear for a moment, but soon, the sand engulfed him.

Gasping for air, the young man flew up out of bed. He glanced around for a moment, seeing his bedroom instead of the desert sand around him. He put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. What were these things he saw in his mind's eye? Almost every night the images and the experience of something metaphysical came to his dreams. It was almost like another world—another life—but every morning he woke back up to the reality he lived. He always carried these visions, even as a child, but as he grew older, they became frequent occurrences, and now they happened nightly.

The young man tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. He flinched as his feet hit the cold floor of the small apartment, but he quickly moved on towards the bathroom. He turned the faucet, and the handle came off. He sighed while looking at the hot water knob in his hand. He put it back on, holding it in place, and he turned the knob. He waited a few seconds to feel the water, which was still cold, he sighed again waiting for the hot water to come through. It took almost a minute, but finally the water warmed up. He leaned over and splashed water over his face. After washing his face with soap and warm water, he grabbed a towel and dried off his face. He stood straight up and padded the towel down his face. In the mirror above the sink, his reflection appeared.

His viridian eyes were tired from a restless night's sleep. They were set in a serious and firm face under blonde locks of wild hair. He stared at himself in the mirror, noticing his tired eyes, for a moment then hung up the towel on the rack nearby. He turned away from the mirror and headed to the shower. He turned the water on and backed away, waiting for the warm water. He leaned on the sink again, holding himself up with his arms. His bare chest rose and fell with his heavy breath.

He had dreams about the desert often, but within the last few months, they were becoming nightly. He started at himself again; his face was solemn as he looked upon himself. He was a strong young man with toned muscle and broad shoulders. Often as he started at that face in the mirror, he did not know who it was—he did not know who he was. The dreams and visions showed him things that he did not know, and yet, it felt as if it were something that seemed familiar. He never spoke of these visions to anyone, not knowing how they would be received by the others around him; however, he was now alone, and nobody knew of his secret visions. As he stared at his image in the mirror, he did not know who he was or what his place was in this world, but the visions he had called to his heart. He knew so little from these visions, but he felt so much concerning them. The desert world of his vision felt more real to him than the world he stood in at the moment. The young man sighed and looked away from his reflection.

A noisy haze of conversation filled the halls of Fujiwara High School. Before the bell rang for the first class, the students congregated in the hallways talking about their summer vacations and the latest gossip. On this particular day at Fujiwara High, five friends circled around the locker of their Princess as she fixed her hair. Their Princess, late to school, tried to put herself together before class started.

It was the first day of high school of their last year. Mina sighed deeply, a large smile creeping upon her face, as she fell against the lockers with her books pressed against her chest. "This year is going to be wonderful!" She sighed.

"Why?" Lita asked.

"We're preparing for the college exams this year," Ami said, not looking up from her book.

The other girls rolled their eyes.

"No," Mina said. "This is the year I'm going to find true love."

"That's what you said last year," Raye said.

"Well, this year, I mean it."

"Wouldn't we all like that?" Lita said. She glanced up for a moment, following the path of Serena's eyes. The Princess stared at a picture of her Prince tapped to the mirror of her locker. "Well, Serena's already found her love."

Serena smiled after putting her lipstick away. "Darien and I have a date tonight."

"Where's he taking you?" Mina asked.
"La Boheme," She said.

"That fancy Italian place?" Lita asked. "That's so romantic!"

Serena nodded. "That's the one." She turned to her friends. "My hair doesn't look that bad, does it?"

"If you trying to look like a plate of spaghetti," Raye snickered.

"Raye!" Serena hissed.

"Don't worry!" She giggled. "You're going to an Italian restaurant."

"You're so mean!" Serena tried to slap Raye, but Raye blocked the attack with her school books. The two of them broke out into a fight, but the bell rang for class. The students began to move through the hallway to their respective classrooms.

Lita and Ami grabbed onto Serena, pulling her away from her verbal spat with Raye. Serena stuck her tongue while being pulled away, but Raye only flashed an evil grin.

"When are you two going to grow up?" Lita asked.

"Yes, it is our last year of high school," Ami added. "We should act our age."

"Never!" Serena exclaimed.

Raye shook her head with a small smile. "I better head off to class." Raye started to walk away. She waved goodbye to her friends, and made sure to flash another wicked smile in Serena's direction. She then looked forward and headed to her class. The female students of Fujiwara High wore blue plaid skirts, white short sleeved button down shirts, blue sweater vests, and navy blazers, and Raye sported the uniform required of her school that day. To add her own flare, she wore a pair of high heels that she felt powerful and confident in. She glanced down at her feet for a moment while reaching back to tuck her long silky black hair behind her ear, but as she looked up, amidst the crowd, her eyes locked with his.

Only for a moment their eyes locked—his viridian eyes were captured within the gaze of her violet eyes, and in that moment, it seemed as if the whole world stopped for her. They had locked eyes for just a moment, but he then looked towards the ground and continued to walk. Seconds after, the world went black for her.

She stood high amongst the dunes of the desert. The wind blew violently causing her long hair to dance across her face. The sand blew at her from the east; she raised her left arm as a shield to her eyes. Looking across the desert, she saw a formation in the distance. For a brief moment the wind slowed, causing the sand carried in the wind to fall. Off in the distance, a city with high walls appeared nestled against the mountains in the distance. She squinted her eyes, peering deeply, but the wind picked up speed again, and started to blow into her face. The wind became so strong that she had to turn her back to the wind. On another dune, she saw a figure standing before her. She only saw the robes of white before the disappeared into the swirling sands.

The world of the hallway came back to her. Her heart was pounding. She was leaning against the wall with one arm and covering her beating heart with the other. Small beads of sweat and formed upon her forehead. Her world was shaken, but everything around her appeared untouched. She turned around, but there was nothing except the students trying to get to class.

Down the hallway, as students passed him, the young man leaned against the wall panting heavily. He remained there for a moment, catching his breath, before he stood up straight. He reached up, brushing his blonde locks out of the way of his eyes. He looked around the hallway, but everyone else was unaffected.

She was flustered the entire day, her mind constantly replaying the vision that appeared before her earlier that day. After school, she immediately headed home to the Hikawa Shrine without explaining herself to her friends. The first thing she did was change out of her school uniform into her priestess clothing. Luckily, her grandfather was busy with patrons outside which allowed her to slip into the fire room in privacy.

It was the fire room that she often found herself. When the world around her was unclear and hazy, it was through the flames that everything fell into place. The fire was her source of passion, strength, life, and sight. She was Sailor Mars, and this was her element. It had been many months, in fact, two years since she donned the uniform of a Sailor, but still in her heart, she was connected to the fire. Even in peaceful times, she meditated in front of the flames to find peace, but today, she needed answers.

She closed her eyes, kneeling before the sacred flames, and began to concentrate on her breathing. She slowly breathed in, holding it for a moment, then exhaled, releasing the tension inside. Inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…her breath soon became even, calm, and regulated—automatic without thought. She was pulled into the fire. Even though she did not physically open her eyes, she began to see beyond the realm and current moment. The burning wood filled her nostrils, the orange and yellow flamed danced before her eyes, the cackle tickled her ears, and the heat warmed her skin. All of her senses were one with the fire. She pushed, searching for answers, but nothing could be seen deep within the flames. Only feelings—impressions really—came to her. Something burning deep down inside started to ache. Some of it was frightening, disturbing even, but some of it felt familiar and right. But it was the frightening and disturbing that began to take over. It engulfed her quickly, just as quickly as the feeling came to her. She was surrounded in darkness, a darkness that was heavy and draining of her life and soul. Darkness encroached upon her from all sides coming from the four corners of the universe. Frightened, she jerked herself out of the vision, like opening one's eyes amidst a bad dream, and pulled herself back into reality. She gasped, collapsing on her hands. Her long hair draped over her face, hiding her from the world around her. She continued to gasp, trying to calm herself, as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She became aware of her surroundings once again—the slick polished wood of the floor, the heat and cackle of the fire, the dimensions of the fire room. She looked up, glancing around the room for just a moment, but then she took off in a sprint. She bolted out of the fire room and down the hallway.

An old short man stepped into the hallway from an outside doorway. Just as he slid the door shut, he looked up at his granddaughter. "Raye, there's a bunch of giggling school girls outside at the gift shop…I tried to offer them jobs, but no!"

"Can't talk now!" Raye exclaimed. She darted past her grandfather, almost plowing him over, but she did not stop for him. She continued on down the hallway, turned around the corner. She transition from the Shrine portions of the building to the housing portions. Soon, she was running through her house towards the bedroom. She quickly pulled back the sliding door, almost slamming it off its tract, and she dashed into her room. She practically dove towards her bed, scrambling underneath. She pulled out a small wooden box. Opening it, a bright red light glowed from inside. She looked down into the box, gingerly picking up the object inside. She lifted her Sailor pen out of the box. It was glowing brightly. She clenched the pen tightly and closed her eyes—the darkness was approaching.

Early that evening, it began to rain. Standing near the window, he watched with his arms folded over his chest the raindrops roll down the glass. The gentle hum of the rain beating against the roof filled the room with a soothing sound. It became a peaceful and serene afternoon, and as night approached, the skies grew dark, but it continued to rain.

The young man wandered around his apartment aimlessly. He remained in his school uniform, a pair of black slacks and a white short sleeved button down shirt, for a couple of hours, but before he started making his dinner, he changed into a tee-shirt and pair of pajama pants. Looking through his empty cupboards, he finally managed to find where he put the bag of rice. He turned on the stove top and began to cook. He glanced over at his almost empty bag of rice and sighed. School fees for this year were more expensive that he anticipated. In about twenty minutes, his dinner was finished. He put the rice into a bowl and sat down a wooden chair. He ate slowly, listening to the rain. The apartment was bare, only having the essentials. There wasn't much to look at, but he managed to survive. He usually spent his nights reading books or doing homework, but tonight after dinner, his eyelids were heavy. He flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, telling himself that he'd only rest for a moment, but it wasn't long before he fell to sleep.

Most of his sleep was deep and peaceful, but as the hours passed, within the darkness of his dreams, he began to feel a cool wind against his skin. Upon the wind and in the darkness, he heard the faint whisper of his name.


He opened his eyes to the desert. Knelt atop of a high dune, he overlooked the empty and serene desert. The sky was full of stars and the Milky Way galaxy stretched across the vertical horizon. But immediately, he noticed that there were two small moons in the sky. He stood up straight, feeling himself weighted down. He glanced down at himself for a moment. He was covered in white robes with equipment strapped around his waist. He turned slowly to survey the landscape. There was nothing for miles around—only desert, sky, and mountains in the distance.

It flashed in the corner of his eye—a bright light—bright and pure as the whitest of light. He turned his head, but quickly shielded his eyes from the brightness. He dropped to one knee. The brightness of the light toned down, and after his eyes adjusted, he was able to look up.

Standing before him, a woman in the appearance of an angel looked down upon him. Her hair was silver, almost white, and it was wrapped into odango on each side. The remaining hair flowed down her back in pigtails. And upon this angel's head was a crescent moon. Her lips formed a small smile as she looked down upon him. "Altair."

He could hardly speak. It took him many moments to find his voice, but when he did, he could barely utter a sound. "…h…how…how do you know my name?"

Her faint smile grew a little larger. "I've known your name before you were even born, Altair."

He stared at her for a moment. "Who are you?"

"I think what you really wish to know is who you are, Altair."

That was a question that pricked his heart, and yet, he started to grow frustrated with the circular conversation. He looked around at his surroundings again. "Where are we? What is this place? What am I doing here?"

The woman looked off into the horizon. Her arm gently lifted, motioning the young man to look out over the desert. "This was once your home. This is where your life began." She looked back to him. "And I am Queen Serenity."

"Where?" He asked, seeing nothing. "Queen Serenity," he said, addressing her for the first time.

"Arise and come with me."

He stood up, and once he did, she put her hand on his shoulder. They slowly lifted off the ground, and they started to fly across the desert. He jerked back at first, frightened, but they quickly stabilized. Soon, they both were flying head first across the desert. It did not take long before the Queen stopped them atop a high dune. This time as the young man looked down from his position, he saw a gathering of square tents. There was the faint light of dying campfires and the smoldering of smoke. It was quiet.

He young man looked to the Queen. "What is this place?"

"Your home."

"But I've never seen this place before." He turned back towards the tents. "And yet, it seems so familiar."

"That is because it was a lifetime ago."

"What do you mean?" He jerked his head back towards her.

She locked eyes with him. "Altair, you were once a nomad who arose from the desert to become a great warrior." Her eyes tore away from his, and she gaze turned towards the settlement below. "This is where you were born—into a tribe of nomadic warriors. Your strength and valor grew, carrying you farther and farther, until you reached me, young one."

She put her hand on him for comfort as he looked distressed. As she did, they shot straight up into the air, but they continued to converse as if nothing happened. "This is the planet Mars. This was once your home." As they went higher in the air, a city appeared to them in the distance. It was a white city, large and beautiful. High domes, cupolas, and pillars arose from behind the high walls. "This is Bella, the capital city."

They looked at the city for a moment as they hovered high in the sky.

"The Martians value courage and strength, and you, Altair possessed a great deal of both. And from your tribe and humble beginnings, you arose to become a great warrior upon this planet. You then came to my attention, and I called upon you for my Kingdom."

"And where is your Kingdom?" He asked.

"The Moon."

After the words rolled off her lips, the desert disappeared from them. Soon they stood before the ruins of an illustrious and beautiful silver palace. The sky was also filled with stars, but in the sky was the image of the earth. The young man looked at her in surprise. "This is your Kingdom?"

The Queen slightly nodded.

"But what happened?"

The Queen smiled, gracefully but clearly filled with the pain of a thousand memories. "Many years ago, our beloved home was ravaged by darkness. Everything that was worked for and achieved through peace and cooperation was destroyed in moments by forces of rage and jealously." She turned to him, tears forming in her eyes. "But it was not these buildings that I care for, but my people. They were all gone. My people were my Kingdom, and they were gone."

"I am sorry," he said, solemnly.

"You gave your life to protect my people, as did many others, but their efforts were not enough." She sighed. "In the end, only I survived."

"What did you do?"

The tears rolled down her cheeks. "I gave my live, just as those I loved gave theirs for this Kingdom. I gave my life to create a new future for everyone." She looked him in the eye. "This is the future you live in now. This is who you are, Altair."

The young man known as Altair stood pondering the weight of these things for a moment, but he looked over at the Queen in curiosity. "Why…" He stopped, trying to find the words. "Why now? Why ever?" He sighed. "Why have I had these dreams? Why now have you come to me?"

"Altair, your whole life you've never felt a connection to the future in which you now live. You've always been alone."

He looked away.

She reached over, putting her hand under his chin. She gently tilted his head towards her as a mother would comfort her child. "Your heart yearns for truth. Your memories could not be suppressed. This is who you really are."

"Why have you come to me now after all these years?"

"Because the world is not safe, Altair." She said, withdrawing her hand. "Your strength is needed once again."

"But what can I do?" He asked. "I may have been a warrior a long time ago, but I am no warrior now. I am…" He glanced away. "…just an orphan."

"Altair, you are a warrior," She said firmly. She held out both of her hands, and suddenly a sword appeared into her hands. "Look at yourself. You were once the General of the Moon Kingdom, and that man is still inside of you."

Altair glanced down at his clothing. In these dreams, he was always covered in a white robe. The robe was hooded, and the hood had a small tip at the end, as in the appearance of a bird beak. He had long white sleeves and thick gauntlets over his arms. Over his waist was a thick leather belt holding many small knives. His brown boots were light and nimble for excellent footing and balance. He glanced to his left side—there was a sheath but no sword.

The Queen held out the sword. Gingerly, Altair reached out and grasped the handle of the sword. He slowly lifted it from her hands and raised it high in the air. The sword was straight, light, and strong—made from the finest materials on Mars. It was a sword for one hand, but could incorporate the second hand. He put his arm down after his finished his examination and looked to the Queen.

"Altair, you must rise up again and protect those who would need you."

The young man nodded.

She reached out and touched him on the arm, and as she did. Everything went black. It seemed as if the darkness lasted for hours. It was peaceful and serene. Regaining his consciousness, he began to flutter his eyes open, but as he became aware of his surroundings, he gasped, backing quickly away from the edge. It was cold, windy, and rainy, and he was atop of a skyscraper. His back pressed against the building while he scrambled on the small ledge. He looked over the landscape, seeing the entire city of Tokyo. He was atop Midtown Tower, one of the highest structures in Tokyo. Frightened and shaking, he managed to stand up on the small ledge. He glanced left. He glanced right. He saw no escape from the high ledge. He glanced down—it was a long 814 feet to the bottom.

"Fly, Altair." He heard whispered upon the wind.

Altair stepped closer to the edge, feeling terror well up within his body, but he looked down to the ground then closed his eyes. Gently, he leaned forward, and he felt his feet leave the edge. With his eyes closed, he felt the cold wind rushing against his face for what seemed like forever. He fell head first—his arms gently extending out like wings. He opened his eyes. Watching himself descend, drawing closer to the ground, he turned his body, without even thinking, and landed on his feet. He stood frozen for a moment, expecting to be hurt or dead, but he was fine. He put his hand over his heart, feeling it beat wildly within his chest, he was alive. He laughed aloud as he looked up into the sky at the top of the tower where he was moments ago.

In the morning, Altair awoke to find himself in his apartment exactly where he fell asleep. He glanced around for a moment at the familiar surroundings of his home. He put his hand over his forehead. "What a dream," he said aloud, almost laughing. What seemed so real was nothing but a dream. He continued to lie in bed, not wanting to get up. After a moment, he shifted his leg, and as he felt something hard against his leg, his eyes bulged. He sat up and tossed the covers aside. At his side was a sword encased in its sheath. He grabbed the sword and pulled it out of the sheath. It was the same sword Queen Serenity gave him. It was not just a dream.