The Heir of Siol

Part 2 - Vita mihi mors est

© 1998 by Luna, Phoebe and Selene

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Author's Note:

Disclaimer: With that we disclaim that we own anyone here. Nor make money out of them. Except cute Rynn - he ours. Whoooo! ^_^

For all those out there who wonder, here are the Pronounciation notes:

Rynnhoran = Rin-'o-ren
Cadhal = Kay-'dal
Rukh = Rook

The Heir of Siol - Part 2 - Vita mihi mors est

© 1998 by Luna, Phoebe and Selene

When Rynnhoran rounded the corner out of the alley Kunzite slowly recognized the whole meaning of the stranger's words. Something in his heart still ached when he thought of his lost koibito. Cold night wind blew through his hair, the same way some strange wind had done after Zoisite's body had faded. Zoisite. With this thought some new strength came to him.


But nevertheless, first he had to return to the Dark Kingdom playing the role of the strong king who could never be beaten by anyone, or anything. Except his heart, his loss.

He opened a portal to the Kingdom and stepped through it. New life pounded in him.

* * *

The night was over far too fast. It was the first night since a very long time that he could sleep again, that he wasn't haunted by Zoisite's deathscream, that he didn't wake up hating himself for not helping him, for not protecting him as he should have, as Zoisite had expected him to do.

He got up, out of the bed and went through the room. When he crossed the table he saw the image that he had longed to destroy. It lay between some unremoved shards of glass, that were the rests of a once beautiful frame. Kunzite took the image and put it up again. Watching the handsome blonde man on it he thought of something. Was it really possible to bring someone back from the death when he wasn't reborn naturally? Queen Beryl certainly had the power to do so, but the stranger? The magic he had felt about him wasn't strong enough to even move a stone - not to mention creating something liveable. Suddenly he felt betrayed. He was given new hope, something he could hold on, but he was fairly sure that the other couldn't bring back Zoisite. With new rage he clenched his fists and blasted the image with a blue ball of energy. Rynnhoran was more cunning than he looked. And he himself was dumber than it was good for him, to allow it that a stranger could trick him with such an improbable deal. All that Rynnhoran had wanted was to save his life, and he, Kunzite, the mighty dark king, was desperate enough to let it happen. He really should be more careful and start to get his emotions under control at last. It did him no good. And if he went on like this he surely wouldn't survive long under Queen Beryl. As if he wanted to.

* * *

Whistling a cheerful melody Rynnhoran unlocked the door to his house, where he and his mentor Cadhal had lived together since sixteen years now.

"Cadhal!" No answer.

Rynnhoran went into the living room and then into the kitchen. "Not at home?" Silence. "Oh, well." He smiled. Good, that gave him more time. Then he noticed a sheet of paper lying on the table. >Dear Rynn, I have to work until late tonight. Please go shopping. We need something to drink (milk, orange-juice), butter, joghurt, marmelade (strawberry or cherry). Thanks, Cadhal.<

Rynnhoran heaved a sigh. "Why me?"

* * *

Gasping Rynnhoran lifted the heavy bag on the table. 'I know exactly, he works that late on purpose, so that the shopping is left to me.' But never mind, there was something else now that needed his full attention. He went out of the kitchen into the center of the dimly lit storage room. Bowing down he opened an entrance hidden under the dusty carpet which led him into a small, freezy cellar. Groping along the walls he crossed some old wooden furnishings that Cadhal had dumped there. His searched with his feet for the object of his desires and when his right foot finally met something hard it was the sign for him that he had arrived. Rynnhoran bent forward and fumbled for the lock of the large trunk to open it. Immediately a red glow spread from its interior and unfolded through the cellar. "Here you are." Rynnhoran leaned into the trunk and reached for the burning pyramid. His eyes reflected the pulsating gleam. It was a long time since he had gotten in touch with the Rukh-energy the last time. It felt like a spider's web on his skin. He took in the should-be-familiar energystream and concentrated on keeping out the memories that Rukh sent through his bones. He knew enough of all this, and he was going to rebuild it all. As he was supposed to.

* * *

Cadhal tiredly closed the door and shuffled into the living room. "Rynn! Rynn, are you here?" He looked into the kitchen and noticed the shopping-bag. Fine, at least the boy had went to the supermarket. The old man returned to the walk-in closet that was located beside the entrance of their small house. Rynnhoran's boots and jacket were there, so he wasn't out. Cadhal added his own pair of shoes to the shoe cabinet and tugged his jacket on the hook. Still shuffling exhausted over the floor he went from room to room and looked for his protegé but he didn't find him anywhere. Suddenly he heard a rumbling sound from above his head. The attic. The old man went up the stairs and carefully opened the half-shut door. He almost forgot to breathe when he saw what the violet-haired boy was doing there. "Rynnhoran!" he muttered startled.

Obviously surprised the boy turned around. When Cadhal looked into the other one's face he noticed the bruised chin of his. Coming closer to him he really became aware of the boy's intentions. The pyramid was placed amidst four pylons that wove patterns of energy, very specific ones. Patterns he knew too well to misinterprete their purpose.

"Uhm, hi." Rynnhoran smiled ruefully and blushed as far as it was possible to be seen in the red light. The enraged expression on Cadhal's face let his smile fade and he cast his gaze down.

"Rynnhoran! Didn't we agree on not using Rukh again? Why do you disobey me? You know how dangerous this power can be if used unskilled, and you are not trained properly for it." Cadhal didn't like it to scold the usual friendly and thoughtful boy, but he simply couldn't allow Rynnhoran to play around with Rukh.

"I know how to use it. Rukh taught me. It wants me to do it. It's right!" The boy defended himself and clasped his hands around Cadhal's arms.

"It taught you? It has spoken to you?" Cadhal seemed surprised although Rynnhoran thought that the man had known.

"Yes, of course. It placed its ideas into my mind, showed me ways to rebuild ... everything that was." His eyes almost glowed with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I should have known that it would find its proper master." The old man sighed and sadly turned away.

"Master? I am its master? Ya kiddin' me!" Rynnhoran grinned. But Cadhal didn't look like he was kidding. In fact he looked very serious. After some seconds Cadhal turned back and looked into the boy's eyes, sternly. "Don't try to play games with me. You know it. Why do you want to use it? What for?" But immediately after he asked his protegé he knew the answer. He had watched the boy everytime they had learned about a new move obvoiusly done by the Dark Kingdom in the news.

"You know what the pylons are for, too. When I have revived them we can proceed to further actions. The plan is fool-proof!"

"You won't be able to control them, Rynn. Beryl has the absolute power over them. They aren't what they used to be anymore. It is too dangerous. Don't do anything if you can't keep the control over it, Rynn. And least of all include those four into your plans. They are responsible for the fall of the Moon Kingdom and if our kingdom hadn't been destroyed already at this time they would have betrayed your mother and your father as well." Cadhal wanted to shake the boy's latest idea out of him. "Let the past where it is, where it belongs to, in the past. Don't try to be someone who you are not. At least not anymore."

"Cadhal!" Rynnhoran barked. "You know it's not their fault! It was Metallia! The atrocities are all hers to blame!"

"Rynn, you are not strong enough. You don't know how to fight her. And ... I ... I don't want to lose you to her. You are like a son to me." Cadhal's voice had become calmer in the end. Calmer and more urgent.

"I know. But you won't. I will fight her, there's no other option. And then I come back and be your son again. Don't worry." Rynnhoran squeezed Cadhal's shoulders in a reassuring hug. Cadhal became sadder when he understood that he couldn't keep his protegé from his plan. "No, you won't come back to me, Rynn. It is the reason why I survived all this time, why you came to me and why Rukh called you. You will need the pyramid, won't you."

"What do you mean ... 'it'?" The boy narrowed his eyes while picking up the pyramid from the floor.

Cadhal was again the familiar, always teaching mentor Rynnhoran knew. "Nothing. Just, take care and don't be too sure of your domination. Or rather, be sure to have the full power over Rukh before using it and making a mistake out of lack of knowledge. Use it only as far as you have the control over it."

Although something in the boy's stomach cramped he tried to show something of his usual happiness. He hated it when Cadhal turned into the wiseman whose role he preferred to play. There was something omniscient about his mentor when he spoke to him like this.

"You know me. I am not the I-like-to-jump-off-cliffs person. I know where my limits are." Kneeling on the floor Rynnhoran packed the pylons away into a box. Somehow Cadhal's words had hit a nerve in him. But he had to go.

"I have to go." He stood up, carrying the box under his arm. "See you ... later." On creaking stairs Rynnhoran left the attic.

Cadhal didn't turn around or gave him an answer. The things happened too fast. He just stared at the place where the box had been put all the time and then heaved a sigh. "Good luck, my Prince," he muttered to himself.

* * *

The pyramid continued to weave. Rynnhoran basked in its warm light that flooded through his haven. It had almost completed its work. Soon the cocoons would begin to bear fruit.

* * *

Kunzite bowed in front of Beryl's throne. He had failed again. But this time it definitely was Endymion's fault. If this imbecile prince hadn't confused Shakoukai by telling her not to kill Sailor Moon they would be rid of the Moon Princess already. It just didn't work to have two commanders for the same youma at a time. At least it didn't work as long as they didn't share the same goals. But he couldn't do anything about it as long as Endymion was under the protection of his Queen.

"Kunzite, can you report me any success in your last plan?" Beryl spat at him.

"No, my Queen." His hatred against Endymion grew with every day he had to share his command with him.

"Give me a good reason for your failure, Kunzite."

A good reason? He had no good reason except Endymion's incompetence. But this was something he couldn't bring forward to his Queen - except if he felt suicidal. This bastard kept on thwarting all of his plans as if he was still fighting on the senshi's side and he couldn't do anything about it. Well, his death would be a good and fitting solution, but not as long as Endymion was under Beryl's protection. But maybe it was possible to part those two - at least a little.

"The senshi were able to confuse the youma so that she wasn't useful anymore. And Endymion seemed to be more on the side of the senshi than on ours, my Queen."

Kunzite could tell from the way Beryl's eyes got even harder than they already were that it didn't help, that he had no success that way. Fearing the worst he stiffened slightly when Beryl spoke up again.

"No-one is allowed to insult Endymion in such a disrespectful way. Especially not you, Kunzite."

Kunzite swallowed.

"Always keep in mind that you are not irreplaceable. Next time you better are successful."

"Yes, my Queen." He straightened again and went out of the throne-chamber. When he came along Endymion he stopped, shot him a loathing look and then sneered contemptious. Endymion wasn't impressed of course and almost grinned wickedly at him. Peevishly Kunzite shoved him out of his way.

* * *

Rynnhoran had been right. He really had no problems to find the house where they wanted to meet. It wasn't a house that could be called large. In fact it was rather small, but not tiny either. Kunzite guessed the age of the house over fourty years, at least it looked that old. It had gone to rag and ruins and didn't look comfortable at all. Kunzite had crossed the fore-garden and reached for the door just when it was opened rapidly by someone on the other side. Rynnhoran's brightly smiling face appeared in his sight. Kunzite only grumbled.

"Hello, my dear friend! Come in! Make yourself at home! I already saw you when you came floating down the street!" Rynnhoran beamed and waved him in.

Kunzite felt like getting sick of this cheerfulness. He said nothing in response to the warm greeting, just went in. Rynnhoran walked up behind him.

"Take a seat. Over there on the couch. You just have to take the cover away...throw it somewhere." Rynnhoran seemed to be a bit nervous. "I'll make some coffee. Do you want one, too? Or tea?"

"No," Kunzite said while he lifted the cover telecinetically and sat down on the couch. The room was furnished very sparely. There were a couch and an armchair in the center of the to-be livingroom standing around a wooden table. Else it was empty. On the pale yellow walls the contours of a closet and some pictures that once had been in this room could still be seen. A lot of light flooded through the many windows and lightened up the interior of the room in a way that started to annoy the dark king.

Rynnhoran roamed around in the kitchen. "You know," he called, sometimes drowned by the chinking of the dishes. Kunzite suddenly wondered where he had dishes from when it didn't even seem that he had lived here. "You know it was rather difficult to call your darling back. Have you already decided whether you help me or not?"

Kunzite still didn't believe in the human's words. "Do you think I help any charlatan who crosses my way and seems to know me? Before I decide on anything I would suggest you to tell me what your little war is about," he demanded not too friendly.

The kitchen door was closed and Rynnhoran returned with a steaming pot. "Instant coffee, one of the greatest inventions of the century. Cheers!" He waved the pot into Kunzite's direction and took a sip.

"Answer me! What's your war about?"

"About? Oh." He sat down. "Just a little revenge here and there, and a portion of grief in that corner ... I'll tell you later."

"Revenge?" Kunzite lifted his eyebrows. "Aha. Why do you need my help?"

Rynnhoran took a deep breath before answering. "As you may have noticed I do not have much energy at my disposal, neither magical nor physical. So I need help." He warmed his fingers with the pot.

"How do you know about me? Who are you?" asked Kunzite suspiciously.

"Patience, patience, patience, patience, I'll tell you," he said hastily.

"Are you working together with the senshi?" Kunzite's eyes narrowed.

Rynnhoran waggled his eyebrows. "Am I wearing a fuku?"

"Did Tuxedo Kamen wear a fuku?" Kunzite imitated Rynnhoran's intonation.

"Unlike you I am not wearing a cape. So mistrust yourself please."

"How old are you?" Kunzite asked.


"And do you want to become twenty-two?" Kunzite threatened.

Rynnhoran harumphed and let his face disappear behind the pot again. "I want to free Beryl from Metallia's clutches."

Kunzite stared at the boy. Suddenly he had the urge to laugh. After he had suppressed this urge he kept on staring at the other one. "And I shall help you with it?"

"Yes, yes," he said casually while finishing the coffee.

Kunzite was left speechless. Well, he didn't hold too much love for Metallia so that he would mourn over her destruction, but on the other hand, without her the Dark Kingdom would break down, and then? What would happen to him?

"Do you know what you are planning on? Do you really know?" Kunzite still hadn't all of his confidence back.

"Yes. I want to cut off all of Metallia's ressources and then finish her off. Once and for all."

"You are insane." Kunzite stood up and walked towards the door.

"But Kunzite!"

"No," he said and reached for the door knob.

"Kunzite-sama ..."

Kunzite was thunder-struck when he recognized the faint voice that suddenly sounded up from behind him. His whole body ached with a sudden fiery pain. He choked slightly and then turned around slowly. When he saw the weak form of his koibito leaning on the doorframe on the rear side of the room, something inside of him, some kind of barrier that held his sanity to its proper place so that he could go on, broke away, letting all of his thoughts, all locked away memories, all his joy flood through him. He nearly broke down and he felt like crying again. But none of this was shown to the outer world. To the others he just stared at the reborn figure of Zoisite, his Zoisite. He probed the ground under his feet and stepped slowly towards the blonde man. "Zoisite," he breathed.

Rynnhoran watched their reunification in amaze. Joy filled him when he saw how Kunzite embraced the smaller man and buried his face in the blonde hair, hugging the other one really close. Zoisite rested his head against Kunzite's shoulder and a slight smile brushed his face. Rynnhoran's grin spread from ear to ear. He was awfully content with himself. If everything went on that way he shouldn't have any problems with them.

* * *

A soft gleam of light seeped through his still closed eye-lids. Warmth was all around him, a comfortable and protecting warmth that enclosed him completely. His conscience widened to reveal a more detailed sensation, like a sun which rays slowly lightened up shadowy spheres. When he breathed he felt that it was not air he was breathing. It was warm and soft while streaming through his nose and filling his lungs. A fluid, which was surrounding his whole body and gave him a foster feeling. Something he couldn't really define kept him afloat.

His still a bit numb fingers groped for the hull to open it, to escape into life. But there was no possibility to get through it. The material was flexible but very solid and in a fit of claustrophoby he began kicking against the tight hull. In this panic suddenly one of his feet broke out of the cocoon. Immediately he stopped moving. The outer side was different - a cold biting wind blew around the foot which was still covered by the fluid. He drew it back and rammed his elbows and knees continuosly against the hull until it after a while ripped at one place just above his chest and then bursted completely. Now he lay in the slime and opened his eyes and his lungs were still filled with the slimy liquid. Before he could realize the bitter coldness on his whole body a retching overcame him. Wanting to get rid of their content his lungs contracted and in a hacking coughs and spilled out all what kept them from breathing fresh air. He closed his eyes when he took the first deep trembling and hurting breath. With a first look around he realized the park buried in snow and the cold, blue sky.

His next step was trying to stand up but the bitter coldness made his body feel stiff. From somewhere he rememberd a specific power which was his own and he concentrated on something warm to wear. He had forgotten the slime that covered his whole body. In a sparkling lightening he got clothed - and felt slightly uncomfortable.

In a sudden flush memories came back to his mind.

He remembered the Dark Kingdom, his enemies and his ... his death? Hadn't he been dying in a girl's arms. What had happened to him and what is happening here and now?

The painful memories weakened him and he fell down to his knees. To collect new energy

the man cocentrated on the stars, instinctively. His head hung and his hands formed to fists he slowly became stronger again.

Suddenly he had a very strange feeling. Something or someone was forcing him to move in a direction where he didn't know what to find there. It was pulling him.

* * *

An invisible force shattered the crystal that was wrapped around the stiffened figure. The form of the sleeping one tumbled to the ground.

The End of Part 2 - Goto Part 3

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