The
trees would have begun to bloom this time of the year. Of them, the
star anise would always bloom the most brilliantly, the brightest
reds coming out. It was as if they were on fire.
I
remember walking down the grand boulevard of the grand city of my
youth. I cannot recall the name, or the streets. All I saw were the
anise blossoms, all of different colors and sizes, blooming in front
of me.
My
favorite was, naturally, the star anise. It was my father's favorite.
My father was the only person I ever loved in my life. He reminded me
of love, and peace, and hope.
And
of the injustice and hatred on our world. We were vassals to the
hated one, she of the red hair and red eyes. A devil, we called her.
The princess of the olive blossom, whose fragrance overpowered the
anise of our world, even though we were a race of giants, and hers
was merely human. Tribute of our precious anise went to the cursed
planet every year.
Yet
no one fought back. There was another way my people dealt with the
problem.
"Illycia."
My father would tell me. "The Dream Hole that resides in the
Pantheon is very previous to our people. It belongs to all of the
world, not to one person. We use it to forget our troubles. You, too,
must only use its power to forget. Forget the darkness in your
heart...forget the injustices the people of the other worlds do to
us. Promise me that."
"I
promise, father."
My
father's words always comforted me. He was the star in my life.
He
died when I was young. I never saw him again.
---------------
I
met my mentor when I was ten. The Guardian of the Star Anise, she
called herself. A rebel cloaked in black, an upstart with no face to
show the world. She would always preach in front of the steps of the
Pantheon, where the Dream Hole was placed.
"We
should not waste the Dream Hole on simply forgetting our pasts!"
she would preach every day, without end. "We are strong, while
our neighbors are weak right now. Let us instead use the Dream Hole
to absorb the energies and powers of the weak, so we may emerge
victorious as the leader of the system and stop the oppression!"
No
one listened to her impassioned pleas. Too violent, too upsetting.
Many thought that way of the Guardian, who had a long history of
apostasy. One hand on the Dream Hole could have ended it for her, but
no one knew why she chose not to live in blissful ignorance, instead
living the life of a witch.
I
was one of those doubters, at first. I had lost my father, and I
wished to forget him. I wished to send my sorrow to oblivion. That
day, I went to the Pantheon, hoping that the Dream Hole would wash
away my sadness and bring me happiness.
"Come
under the banner of the Iron Staff, my child, and lift the veil of
oppression from the eyes of the people." Those bright eyes that
glowed under the black hood left an impression I would never forget.
"Do not fall for the timid tricks of the weaklings."
I
turned my head away and walked into the great stone building. I
wanted to forget, not to fight. All I had to do was approach the
Dream Hole, and place my hand upon it.....
It
was only a moment. As I felt my memories disappear, I suddenly saw my
father. For one moment, I had all of my memories of him. But then,
without warning, they began to slip away...all I had had was him, and
even he was leaving...
That
was when the power of the Dream Hole went into me.
I
cannot begin to describe it. It was both terrible and beautiful at
the same time. I felt as if holding on would give me power, more than
I had ever imagined. If I had been wiser, I would have held on, and
fought my memories being drained.
Instead,
I jerked my hand away from the pulsing Dream Hole, and ran outside of
the Pantheon, scared of what had happened. I ran until I had no more
breath, and then, I collapsed onto the ground, my tears the only
comfort I had.
That
was the first, and last, time, I lost any of my memories to the
accursed Dream Hole.
---------------
My
father had told me that his experiences with the Dream Hole had been
sweet and wonderful. Everytime he had tragedy in his life - his
parents' death, my mother's death, his own impending fate - he would
go to the Dream Hole and erase them from his mind. In his mind, he
had peace.
But
for me, it was a nightmare. It was pain, and terror. It was a crime
to allow people to do that to themselves. That my father died in
ignorance was unforgivable.
That
was why I sought the Guardian myself, on a cold night, all alone. It
was only me and her when I approached and offered my services.
"So,
child." I bowed to the figure in the black cloak as she spoke.
"You wish to join me."
"I
want to fight." Looking at my hands, remembering the power that
had gone through me that moment. "I want to avenge my father."
"Is
that so..."
The
eyes glowed underneath once more as I rose. A hand extended to me, a
hand cloaked in black and red. Reluctantly - for, as a child, I had
many complicated thoughts – I reached out and grabbed it.
"Very
well." With her other hand, she took out a star anise blossom,
and pressed it onto my chest. "Repeat this. I swear my life to
the cause of the Dream Hole."
"I
swear my life to the cause of the Dream Hole..."
"I
will work in the name of the Iron Staff."
"I
will....work...under the name of....the Iron Staff...."
I
gave out a cry at this, for the star anise was burning into my chest.
The smoke poured out from underneath, searing straight into my heart.
I did my best to complete the oath, but soon, I lost consciousness,
and fell to the floor. I was, after all, still a child.
-------------
When
I woke up, the searing pain was still in my chest. I pressed my hand
there, only to feel the star anise blossom on it. It was affixed to
my body, my soul, and nothing could remove it.
"Welcome
to your new life." The Guardian's eyes bore into me, but I stood
my ground. "Welcome to the resistance."
--------------
The
Guardian of the Star Anise, my teacher, she was a strong woman. She
was more than just a witch - she was a fighter, a beacon of hope. She
fought the forces of the creatures who smelled of olives, even fought
the ruler that oversaw them. When our world was defeated, her face
had been disfigured, destroyed. She hid away, plotting revenge.
"The
only way to destroy injustice is through power." At this, she
would show me her staff. "Once, the Dream Hole had been a source
of our power, and we absorbed the energy of our enemies to fuel our
magics. Now, this Iron Staff is the last talisman of our true past,
the truth of our great power. It holds the key to reviving the Dream
Hole and its former glory. But I am too old, to maimed, to possess
its full power. For one to access the power, one must be strong in
mind, in body. In soul."
I
felt, in telling me, she was appointing me as her true successor.
After all, she had affixed her sign onto my heart; I took her words
into my heart, as surely, I thought, she had taken me into mine. It
would be many years of training, in order for me to become the sword
of vengeance.
But
I was still young. I still had some innocence of the world; there
were things I wished to experience, even as I trained day and night
to become stronger. Indeed, even as I was learning how to do things,
when I was sixteen, I fell in love....
------------------
His
name was Bajiao. His eyes were the brightest red of anyone's, his
hair, white as the snow. I met him when I came to a small town, far
removed from the capital of my childhood, where few people had been
able to make the journey to the Pantheon. By then, I had become the
Guardian's adopted child, and I spoke for her whenever I could,
defending her and her power.
I
was shy around him when we talked, at first; I had never met another
man other than my father; I had never been interested in any men. But
in that time, I began to feel for Bajiao, and he was certainly fond
of me.
The
attention given to me was not unwarranted. I was certainly a sight to
look at; my own red eyes were bright with youth, my black hair long,
and ironed straight, my skin whiter than even my Bajiao's hair. My
looks attracted many suitors despite the Star Anise on my chest, but
only Bajiao saw past my outer beauty.
"It's
true. The tyranny and oppression of the Osmanthians has gone too
far." We sat together under the stars as I spoke, that first
night we were together. "Even here, the influence is felt. Here,
in the isolated countryside, this is where the anise for tribute is
cultivated, and then sent to the princess of our conquerors."
"My
father was a farmer before the war." Bajiao turned to me, his
earnest eyes yearning for help. "Now, though, he can barely make
anything. There is not enough food here for everyone, and yet those
who do not go to the Pantheon - those who wish to change things - are
considered traitors...."
"We
live in a society of forced ignorance," I returned. "Is it
not just, then, that my mistress has taken up a relic of our glorious
past to vanquish the world's ills and restore righteousness?"
"Your
mistress..." Bajiao chuckled at this. "She is a hag."
"She
is a wise old woman." I felt indignant at this. "You
shouldn't judge her in such a way."
"She
is old." He smiled. "I would rather follow someone who has
much more vitality. Someone whose youth would give us hope."
"What
do you mean?"
"....Someone.....like..."
At
this, without warning, I felt his lips on my cheek. I gave a gasp,
and before I could push him away, he had already sprinted off, back
to his village.
We
spent several weeks there; I spent as much time as I could with him.
While we filled up on supplies, and on potential followers, I spent
as much time as I could with him. He was one of the few things in my
life I felt anything for....anything other than anger, or the
indignant realization of my people's inadequacies.
The
day I left, I gave him a small star anise blossom. He gave me a red
veil.
"For
your hair." He had sewn it himself for me. "To cover you
when its too bright."
I
wore it whenever I could. For I would not see him again for many
years, and all I would have was the smell of his hands, that lingered
within the folds.
-----------------
I
would lose the happiness, the innocence I possessed, when I met
Bajiao, soon after we left him.
We
started to bring more people to our cause, and this caused some
measure of alarm for the oppressors from the olive-tainted star. They
sent enforcers to train our own people to attack us; the injuries we
sustained were too many to count. The core followers - myself
included - were jailed many times, and beaten for our
presumptuousness.
At
first, all we had to show for it were scars. My once beautiful body
was soon endowed with cuts and bruises; my legs were so badly scared
that I wore long skirts in shame. But soon enough, it was as my
mentor had predicted. People began to tire of the Osmanthians. People
began not to forget, and stayed away from the Dream Hole.
The
Guardian, attracting more followers, more people who refused to
forget, began to teach us powers forbidden to normal people. She
taught us how to absorb energy from things - the ground, the sky, the
water. And then, people.
It
was only to me that she showed me how to take energy from people. The
Dream Hole was the most effective way to drain a person's soul, but
other incantations and spells could work as well. Though I feared
using this power for some time, she would encourage me as often as
she could.
"This
power I am teaching you is nothing to take lightly," she would
almost hiss at me. "I would not teach you if I did not believe
you to be my scion. Such power must be used when it comes to
revolution....you must show the ignorant masses what can happen when
they sit back and do nothing! Show them how worthless their lives
have become, even to themselves!"
Her
words were self-fulfilling for me. The more I saw of my planet, the
more I came to despise the people upon it. I came to despise life
itself, and I began to despise even my master's own followers. For
many of them, it was not their cause; it was merely a phase to them.
Not
for me. The star anise was affixed upon me. The pain that bearing it
brought was nothing I could forget. And my anger grew, as the
unwillingness of the people to change grew. The more I began to see
the cause as hopeless, and the more I began to wonder if, perhaps, it
was not my mentor who would be the one to solve the problem which
faced our people.
It
was then I committed my first act of murder.
-------------------
I
had not expected it to come. I did not think it would start such a
chain of events. But when it happened, there was no turning back for
me....for anyone.
I
was alone that day. All around, the puny Osmanthian force had
gathered, and they certainly ruled the village I was in. Their small
size meant nothing to my fellow giants; to them, the invaders could
have been a thousand feet tall.
A
disgrace.
I
was walking down the street, when suddenly, I found an entire cadre
of soldiers at my feet. Along with them were several other traitors,
who were walking alongside me, trailing me until I was cornered. Only
then did they strike.
“Her!”
They all cried. “It is her. The woman bears the sign of the
Star Anise Gang!”
The
traitors fell on me, as did the Osmanthians. I was surrounded; I was
being punched, kicked, and shot at. The blood was leaving my body,
and my breath was becoming shallow. There was no hope, no way to
escape.
Unless...I
could kill.
My
anger surged within me. The indignation, the pain, the years of
seeing how cruel my own people were, in seeing how eager, how
stupidly willing they were to forget and waste the power of the Dream
Hole.....I exploded.
By
the time I came to myself – regained my control – the
only thing standing in front of me was the anise blossoms. Even they
were drooping, wilted from the surge of power that drained them. It
almost made me go insane, once I realized what I had done, when I saw
the flames and ashes at my feet.
And
yet....it felt wonderful.
-----------------
The
road to destiny could not be stopped then. I fled – I was still
reluctant to take charge of my destiny. I went to the one person I
thought I could trust. The one person who I thought understood.
The
minute I came to her, and saw her eyes, the reality of my situation
began to sink in.
“Illycia.”
She looked at me. “So....you did it.”
“Master....I...”
I shook my head. “I didn't...”
“You
meant it.” A chuckle came from her lips, one that still made
me, even in my descent, shudder. “Everyone who kills means to
kill.”
“How
did you...”
“I
see it in your eyes.” She turned away.. “That you have
finally killed. How many?”
“....I.....400.”
“Excellent.”
“Excellent,”
I repeated angrily. “You make it as if I did something good in
killing.”
“Aah....but
you did.”
I
gasped as I heard this. They were not the words of a kind and just
woman. They were not the words of a woman who was the savior of my
world. They were the words of another traitor, another blow to my own
beliefs in the people I thought I loved.
“Don't
you see?” She faced me, her eyes glowing. “There will
always be people who will be under the spell of the Dream Hole. That
is the beauty of it. No matter what we do, there will be people who
will always desire to taste oblivion. To think only about their
wants, and to forget everyone else's pain....”
I
could only turn away from these words, not willing, at first to face
the reality I was being given. I couldn't. Yet, no matter what I did,
I had no choice.
By
that time, I believed in those words as well. If I did not, I would
not have killed.
There
will always be people....like that...
“That
is why the weak must be sacrificed.” The older rhetoric from
before was now made crystal clear to me. “ So that the Dream
Hole can sustain the desires of the strong. So that a strong leader
may lead our people to victory against our enemies....so that our
power can be felt around the galaxy....That is what we want....what
we always wanted...and desired”
“No.”
I
turned to her, and without any thought to what I was doing, I ripped
off the hood of the cloak that hid her face. There it was, for the
first time. I saw everything. The burnt, ridged cheeks, the sunken
eyes, the twisted mouth.
“Illycia-?!”
“That
was what you had wanted.” I stared her down. “Only for
you.”
All
the time, subconsciously, I had agreed with her beliefs. But I had
never acted on my desires until that moment.
“You...!!”
I
knew full well the price of betraying my master. I was not blind to
the fact that she had killed before. But that was before I, myself,
had killed. Before, I had been afraid of her, and what she would do.
Once
one has killed for power, there is no turning back.
“NO!!”
I
acted quickly, as she charged the Iron Staff. Surely, I was younger,
stronger. She had always mentioned that only one at the peak of their
strength could access the full powers of the Iron Staff. In my mind,
I had always wondered....perhaps, if it was not her who would access
the great power of the talisman....
I
touched the base of the rod just as it had been fully charged.
“AAAAAAAH!!!!”
The
staff glowed bright red, and it was my master – not me –
who was forced to let go. Her hands burned until they were black from
the power; she collapsed on the ground, nursing herself from the
wounds, and looking up at me. Her expression was that of shock.
The
shock of seeing the monster she had created.
"You
only wished to rule the world with your inferior power." I felt
the power of millennia past surge through me as I picked up the Iron
Staff in both of my hands. Any inhibition I had felt before, I had no
need for anymore. "You cared nothing for my future. Now,
though...."
I
saw my mentor's eyes widen as she tried to come towards me. She held
out her hand, in a desperate attempt to get her precious possession
back. But it was for nothing; by the time she was within reach, she
was gone, her ashes scattered to the wind.
"...It
is time." My heart hardened to all those that I had once loved,
living or not, I lifted the Iron Staff to the sky, calling upon the
ultimate power that had been hidden for so many years. "It is
time to act....."
---------------
The
vengeance of the Iron Staff was swift and complete.
The
ground rumbled underneath my feet as my small army went through,
creating a path of destruction on our way to our ultimate goal. The
Pantheon lay in the distance, and the closer we came to it, the more
souls we absorbed into ourselves, and the more powerful we became.
I
could see the people flee in terror ass I approached the city of my
youth. The fools who squandered their lives in hardship against the
truth, finally fell at my feet, the flames of my power laying waste
to all I saw. I felt nothing as I killed; for me, the people of my
world were nothing but spiders to be squashed.
Finally,
I came to the great prize. The Pantheon, and within, the Dream Hole.
Like an empress, I strode into the building, setting my eyes upon the
jewel. My followers immediately fell to my side; the power I held
brought them to order. They knew better than to question me, the
successor to the Guardian.
"In
the name of justice in this galaxy...." Cutting open my palm, I
let the blood drip onto my newly-acquired talisman. "The power
of the Dream Hole is now mine."
I
felt victory assured as I thrust the Iron Staff, drenched in my
blood, straight into the center of the Dream Hole. It glowed brightly
for a single instant, before it turned blood red. I, too, began to
glow, and I felt the power of the world seep into me, all of the
souls, all of the energy is had taken from times long since past. It
was exhilarating, and I could not help but laugh at how fate had
turned the servant on the fringes, into the master of everything.
Just
as I completed the ritual, I heard a voice echo into my head.
"Illycia!!"
I
turned nonchalantly; it was all well that I did not recognize who it
was at first. He was dirty, disheveled, nothing like I remembered
him. Years had passed since our first, and last, encounter; he
clearly remembered me. I, however, had pushed him to the furthest
parts of my mind by that time.
That
moment, even he betrayed me, and I had no time for him, after all.
"Illycia!"
My former lover dropped to his knees at the sight of my new, terrible
form, his eyes filled with tears. "What....what have you
done..."
I
turned to him, raising my staff as I did. I could feel the power
flowing into me, felt the hatred give me strength I had never
imagined I could possess. For, at last, the Dream Hole had an owner.
At
last, the Dream Hole would be put to proper use.
"The
weak....must surrender their energy to the strong." With a
single touch to his forehead, he burst into flames, and next to me, I
felt the Dream Hole grow bigger, turn blacker with each passing
moment. "I'm sorry, Bajiao."
That
was the moment I, Lady Badiane of the Iron Staff, was born. That was
the moment all trembled before the Iron Staff.
That
was when I decided the fate of all the planets I would encounter.
----------------------
I
remember the day the Black Hole completely absorbed my world.
There
was barely even an explosion when it happened. There was nothing,
simply a vacuum in space. When I raised my staff, the Dream Hole
lifted. The planet was gone.
"At
last," I murmured. "Leguma, set the course for our next
planet."
"Yes,
my lady."
There
was no room for people to interfere in my world order. Those who were
close to me – my father. My mentor, my lover – had all
been weak. They did not know what the Dream Hole could do. Only I
know now, and only I can be trusted with this power.
The
Dream Hole is a part of me now. And a part of me says, Destroy.
Destroy
everything in my way. I am not strong enough yet, to take on the
great enemy, the lady of the olives. But I will be.
I
will be.
------------------
The
Earth is such a tiny, disgusting place. Filled with people with weak
hearts. Even those who hold magic in their hearts are weak. Of all
the planets I have encountered, my heart holds no love for this
world, and the Dream Hole, black as night, shall devour it.
Only
one. Red eyes stare at me. Just as I defied the master, she defies
me.
“Are
you crazy?!” she shouts at me, a puny, tiny child. “What
you're speaking of is crazy! You'll never win!”
“Oh...?”
I am casual about this child; she is special, her energy is
different. But she could be no real threat. “And why do you say
that....”
“Because
Sailor Moon is on Earth!”
No
matter how I try, I cannot help but feel my blood boil at this name.
------------------------
“Hand
me that child!”
This
is it. Me and her, face to face. I do not fear a child the size of an
Osmanthian. Fear is an emotion I forgot about a long time ago. I only
feel anger towards this child, who dares to defy me.
She
refuses to give me the child. Foolish girl.
“Damn
you!” This is when I shall show her my true power. “Then
you shall burn, as you wish!!”
Burn
in an eternal flame, as Princess Fireball will. Olive incense burning
in hell, red eyes looking straight into the heart of the enemy,
always looking. The red veil from as boy who screams my name in
death.....
Always
looking into the blade of the sword. When one murders, there is no
turning back.
Foolish
girls, you are all murderers. Remember me, when we meet in hell.
“Moon
Gorgeous....Meditation!!”
----------------------
The
trees would have begun to bloom this time of the year.
Of
them, the star anise always blooms....
