Chapter Text
It was easy, Endymion thought, to love his beautiful planet. He couldn’t imagine any of the others comparing, and with his upcoming journey he had certainly tried.
Spring had come, leaving his gardens a riot of color as roses bloomed one after the other. Elsewhere they were still in bud, if that, but Elysion was fertile and had extremely mild weather for all but the depths of winter. Other flowers blossomed as well, but the roses were his particular favorite. His diplomatic gifts to the Silver Queen would include cuttings of his best plants; he had been assured they would be well cared for. Her daughter was in awe of the blooms, saying nothing so brightly colored appeared on the Moon. It was one of the things they had bonded over during her illicit visits.
Knowing he would be leaving his home of nineteen years the very next day for who knows how long, the prince found himself looking around as if he’d never seen his surroundings before. Finally he sprawled on the grass alongside the four Shitennou, his constant companions – even stern Kunzite, which was a miracle in itself – and stared up at the stars.
He loved his generals like brothers, and it was because of them he’d never felt isolated in his lofty position. While they would never face the responsibility of ruling Earth, they were kings in their own rights and the only other major magic users the planet had to offer. More, their little group was the sole reason the Silver Alliance was willing to meet with them; they had no interest in building relations with a government that had nothing to contribute.
“Are you all packed?” Kunzite asked, breaking the comfortable silence. He was the eldest at twenty-eight and was always cool and collected. It was just as well; if something pushed him so far as to break his normally ironclad control, the leader of the Shitennou lapsed into a berserk rage and destroyed anything in his path. Endymion could calm him, but it was dangerous. At the same time, the gap in their ages made him double as almost a father figure to the youngest boys. He was certainly the one in charge of their discipline.
A vague chorus of agreement was his answer, but he was content with that and said no more. It was unusual for them to all be off duty, since they were always dealing with messes in their separate territories, but out of respect for their impending departure the five men had been given the evening to prepare for the trip. It wasn’t necessary; as warriors they had long since learned to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Instead they were simply enjoying each other’s company. None of them really knew what to expect from the Moon Kingdom.
“It’ll be strange looking down on Earth,” Nephrite, the second eldest at twenty-two, said quietly as he listened to the stars’ song. “I wonder if I’ll still be able to understand them.”
“I should think so,” Zoisite replied. He was the baby of the group, only eighteen despite being third in rank. “You listen, Nephrite; you hardly depend on sight, and they would know you anywhere. Maybe from another world they will allow you to hear even more.”
Twenty year old Jadeite flopped over onto his stomach and folded his hands under his chin. “Will we ever be able to look at this place the same way?”
Endymion blinked. “No. How can you look at something the same after being exposed to other worlds? That doesn’t mean we’ll suddenly love it less, though.”
“Here, here,” Nephrite agreed.
A soft breeze blew across them, ruffling their hair and the casual clothes they so rarely wore. On any other day it would be royal regalia or military uniforms, or even disguises for some undercover exercise. Jadeite, informal as he was, hadn’t even bothered with a shirt.
“What were you looking for when you came here?” Endymion asked suddenly.
After a heavy pause, Kunzite turned to look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“You don’t talk about your lives before you were given to me like presents. What did you find here, Kunzite? Why didn’t you stay home?”
He sighed before a faint, tired smile edged onto his thin lips. “I found acceptance.”
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“He must be cursed,” the people whispered when he walked by. “No true servant of Allah would look as he does.”
Kareem struggled to keep his head high, to hide behind an emotionless mask. It followed wherever he went; no one could understand how he had been born with strange silvery hair and piercing blue-grey eyes. The abnormalities were made even more striking by his bronze skin. The people were good Muslims, but superstitions lingered. Even his father shied from him.
He had heard the story many times: upon his birth, the caliph had taken one look at the infant and accused his wife of having an affair. She denied it and, as there was no evidence and the caliph would not condemn a woman without proof, neither spoke of it again. The caliph thought his son was destined to bring ruin to their people and tried for another, but he only had daughters by his other wives. Kareem was his heir because he had no other.
Of course, there were those who did not care for looks, like his mother, but Anisa knew her son would suffer for his differences. Any chance he had of gaining his people’s trust died a horrible death when his magic appeared. His half-sisters had been teasing him when the drapes caught fire. They ran, but he sat stunned until his mother appeared. As soon as his concentration broke, the flames extinguished themselves and the cloth was entirely unharmed.
Kareem was a lonely boy. Had he been educated outside of the safety of the palace, there was no doubt he would have returned home every day covered in bruises or worse. He feared his powers and struggled to keep them contained, letting others target him without fear of retaliation because he knew losing his temper might result in someone being hurt.
“You! Demon boy!”
The young prince fought to maintain his cool façade as he turned. Haidar was a head taller than Kareem and far more muscular. His father was a close confidante to the caliph, which meant Haidar was one of the few children Kareem was expected to interact with regularly. He was one of the prince’s many tormentors, and the most vicious by far.
“Yes, Haidar?” Kareem asked, pleased when his tone remained even.
“Go back to your cave, you monster. You don’t belong around civilized folk.”
“I can go wherever I wish.”
“You have no business in busy parts of the palace.”
“I am only going to meet the calipha in her private gardens. If you will excuse me, I am sure she is already waiting there.”
“I don’t know why the calipha bothers,” the other boy jeered. “The caliph won’t speak to you unless he has to. She must be addle-minded. Did you curse her too? Is that why she can’t have a proper son, or even another useless girl?”
“I would never harm my mother,” Kareem countered, trying to tamp down his building rage. “Let me pass.”
“Or what?” Haidar challenged.
His voice was low and flat, the threatening oppression before a terrible storm. “Or I shall get quite angry.”
The children that had gathered took several steps back, but the little lion wasn’t willing to abandon his prey so easily. “You’re too scared to use those freakish powers of yours. You know they mark you for what you really are.”
“I am human, as are you. Magic is natural; I only have more than most.”
“Fine excuses, demon boy.”
“Why should I have to justify powers I did not ask for? I cannot control what I was born with any more than you can. At least I do not torment those who are smaller than I am.”
“You ruined the calipha with your evil,” Haidar snarled. “What we do to you is only to remove your taint from decent men.”
“Do not say such things about my mother.”
“Then do something about it!”
Pushed past his reasonable limits, Kareem tensed. The magic in him, normally hidden from view, appeared as a pale gold fringe just over his skin while his eyes blazed liquid silver. “This is your last chance. Let me pass before I lose my temper.”
“The righteous do not give way to demons!”
His jeering laughter was cut short when crackling static filled the hall. Kareem stood in the center, eyes closed as he tried to reel it in. Lightning struck a scant few centimeters from the other boy’s foot, then again even closer. Panicked, the children ran. Haidar paused at the end of the hall and glared at his prince. “You are a monster and someday you’ll be dealt with as such!”
Then he was gone and Kareem was alone.
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“It happened again, Mother,” Kareem said wearily as he joined the calipha in her garden. “I tried to stay calm but he said it was my fault you have not had a better son.”
The calipha was a beautiful woman, with her raven’s-wing hair and deep brown eyes set in a heart shaped face the color of good dark honey, but more, she was clever and kind. She saw what her son had to offer when no one else did, and she defended him from those who would do him harm. “Oh, I am sorry, dearest,” Anisa murmured, sweeping her son into her arms. Though he was six, Kareem was small enough to pass for a meager four. “Was it Haidar again?”
He nodded, turning his face into his mother’s neck. “Do you want to replace me?”
“Of course not,” she said fiercely. “Do not believe them, Kareem. You are my son and I love you precisely as you are. Even if I were to have another child, nothing would replace you in my heart. You are not evil, and you are not a demon. You are a boy, no matter how extraordinary your gifts and appearance. Someday everyone will understand how special you truly are.”
“Even Father?”
“I think so. Your trials will make you a great ruler, darling, because having suffered you will work to protect others from such a fate. There are some who say you will bring destruction, but they are wrong. You will bring us wisdom and bravery, and your powers may seem like a curse now, but someday they will be a gift. They will open the door to a new life for you.”
“Are there any others like me?”
“I do not know, my dear, but I think there must be. Allah does not want us to always be alone, so in time I believe you will find companions to stand as your equals.”
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Nothing could have prepared Prince Kareem for the horror of his mother’s death two years later. The court healers did what they could, but her condition was beyond their meager abilities, and Kareem himself had never shown any gift for the craft. They all knew she had been poisoned because of him, and there was no way he could have stopped it.
“What will I do now?” Kareem asked dully as he and his father waited out the end of the three day mourning period. Aside from his half-sisters, all of whom despised him, his father was his only remaining family and would dictate the course of his future.
“What do you wish to do?”
“I wish to make my mother proud.”
The caliph looked at him for a moment before turning once more to his wife’s grave. “Anisa wanted you to have a life outside the palace. She said you would find no ease here once she had gone, so she asked that I send you to school. There is an academy in Elysion for noble sons; you have been accepted there.”
“My mother asked for this?”
“Yes.” His tone said he was lying, that he wanted his son to leave, but the finality of it let Kareem know arguing was not an option. “You will be departing in a week’s time.”
Kareem bowed in response, and the caliph brushed by to rejoin his court. The few others who had held vigil with them left as well. Once they were gone, Kareem sat by his mother’s grave, tears in his eyes.
“I do not know what to do without you,” he whispered. “I do not know the world beyond these walls; you kept me inside so you could protect me from those who hate me for my power, but what good did it do when I was unable to save you from those who feared me? What is the point if it could not heal you?”
Do not blame yourself, my son.
Kareem jolted, scared for the first time in those two years. After Haidar’s attack he had been left to his own devices as he and his magic grew and he began to attain some measure of control. Seeing his mother’s spirit, however, was more than enough to summon fear.
Please, do not be frightened; I will not linger. I only meant to reassure you, Kareem. I know you are worried about what might await you in Elysion. Though I did not ask your father to send you, I believe you will find what you need there. It is your best chance for a new life, darling, and King Tarin has sworn you will be safe. Happier times are waiting for you.
“I cannot imagine my life without you.”
I will always be with you. Not like this, though I wish I could be, but in your heart. You have an astounding capacity for love, dearest, but you have only given it to me thus far. Someday you will love many, and there will be a special person who will become the center of your world. Love will find you, my son, when you are ready.
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The academy proved kinder than the caliphate, but Kareem remained alone. Even among the best minds in the kingdoms, he was the only one capable of incredible magic. It inspired awe, at least, rather than the fear and hatred he had known before. Time passed quietly, nothing really distinguishing one day from the next. He returned to the caliphate each winter, spent fourteen days in miserable isolation, and once back at school resumed his bland and tasteless life, the passage of years marked only by his growth. That changed just after the start of his fifth year.
“Kareem, there’s a guest here for you,” one of the older boys said as he stuck his head in the door of the students’ study. “The headmaster is waiting with him in his office.”
“Thank you,” Kareem answered quietly. “I will be down in a moment; I need to finish this question before I forget what I was going to write.”
He paid no heed to the other boy’s exit as he completed his assignment and set it aside to let the ink dry, closing the book he had been referencing and returning it to its shelf. That done, he went in search of his mystery visitor. At the master’s office, he smoothed his uniform before rapping on the door. When given permission to enter, he slipped in as quietly as possible.
“You summoned me, Headmaster?”
“Yes, come in. Kareem, this is Lord Perrin Alderman, a court magician and confidante of King Tarin. Perrin, this is Prince Kareem of the Middle Eastern Caliphate.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Kareem said with a shallow bow.
Alderman echoed the gesture. “And you as well, young prince. The king sent me.”
That statement made the boy frown. Though his mother had told him the king would keep him safe, there had been no contact between them in the four years the young prince had been at the academy. That was perfectly acceptable where he was concerned. The less attention he got, the better; it kept him away from anyone who might try to use him.
“And what does his majesty want of me?” Kareem asked finally.
“It has come to the king’s attention that you possess great magic, Kareem. The Silver Queen worries that if you and those like you are left unattended your power may run wild.”
The phrase ‘Silver Queen’ had him a bit concerned, but he did his best to cover his worry. “The concern is touching, but I am already learning to control my abilities, my lord.”
“That may be, but his majesty has decided that it is best for you to be brought to the palace. There will be a special tutor arriving to assist you. When your training is done, he means to make you a member of his son’s court.”
“The offer is most generous, but I cannot accept. I am my father’s only heir and I must therefore return to the caliphate when I am grown.”
“You have no love for the caliphate,” Perrin said coolly, “or for the caliph, who has shown you none. Prince Endymion is like you, Prince Kareem. He has magic. He will need companions who understand, who he cannot force into obedience with his power. If the Silver Queen is right, after the prince your magic is the strongest on Earth. You must at least come to the palace and listen to what King Tarin has to say.”
Kareem looked tentatively at the headmaster, who nodded. He acquiesced with a sigh. “Very well; I will hear the king’s request. When are we to go?”
“Now, if you have no pressing matters to deal with. I have a carriage waiting for me in the courtyard. Prince Endymion and his father are anxious to meet you and the other boys.”
“How many others are there?”
“The Silver Queen told their Majesties of four beside their son, so there are three more. You are not quite as alone as you might have thought.”
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Kareem knelt at the foot of the dais, not daring to look at the king or queen on their gilded thrones. The little prince on the steps, however, immediately caught his eye. Endymion was only three to his twelve; how could a small child be like him? What could he do for the boy?
“Your father made me your guardian while you are in Elysion, Prince Kareem.”
“Yes, my king.”
“Yet you do not wish to be among my son’s court?”
“I have responsibilities in the caliphate, majesty, and I cannot abandon them.”
“I am not asking you to. The caliphate is yours by right of blood; that will not change. We have ways for you to travel the world at will.” Kareem said nothing, gaze still on the little black-haired prince, and the king sighed. “Endymion will need men who understand him, and you are one of very few who might. More, you need to learn to use your powers wisely.”
“I can already control them to an extent; the rest will come with time.”
“You are not controlling them, you are locking them away. Don’t you want to know how much you are capable of?”
It was sorely tempting. As Lord Alderman had said earlier, Kareem really had no bonds to his homeland save the matter of his inheritance. If he could learn the true extent of his magic as well as stand by the crown prince without losing his own title, was there any reason to refuse?
“What is it you want me to do for his highness?”
“He will need guards as he grows older. He will also need those loyal to him on the great thrones. The five of you could form a bastion of power the Earth has not seen in generations.”
“You wish me to be a knight in his service.”
“When the time comes, yes. Later you will be more; I would be very surprised if one day you did not advance through the ranks until you were a general as well as a wizard-king.”
Kareem tilted his head slightly, assessing the rulers for the first time. Tarin’s expression was entirely honest. Before he could respond, the little prince toddled over and used Kareem’s shoulders to regain his balance. His still-chubby face lit up when the older boy smiled at him.
“A new friend!” little Endymion said ecstatically. He began to circle Kareem’s kneeling form, occasionally reaching out to pat his silvery hair. “Soft…”
The young caliph smiled again as he watched his new charge. “I accept, then. I will serve under Prince Endymion and protect him no matter the cost to myself.”
“You are leaving your old life behind, you realize.”
“Yes. I have no regrets.”
“Then you need a new name for a new life, one that sets you apart from the rest of the world while uniting you with those still to come. We will call you Kunzite.”
“Kunzite?” he repeated, tasting the unusual syllables.
“It is an ancient tradition that those who are wellsprings of Earth’s magic carry the name of one of its minerals. It will serve as both a name and a title, forever marking you as something more than a man. It will define you; you will never truly be the caliphate’s Prince Kareem again. He is gone as surely as if he had died.”
For a moment he was ready to object, but he stopped to think. Kunzite would always be known to be strong because the title was tied fundamentally to magic, the prince, and the future. He would remember his mother and his life as Kareem, but it had ended with her death. Once she had gone his name had been a placeholder, a manner of address that was convenient and nothing else. She would not begrudge him the change.
“Kunzite it is. From this day on, I swear myself and my strength to Prince Endymion. I will be his guide and guard, his sword and shield.”
He would have continued, but King Tarin rose. “There will be time for formal oaths when you are older. Now is the age for learning and growing. The tutor sent by the Silver Queen will be arriving within the day; you should bring your things to the palace so you are ready to greet him. The academy is no longer the place for you.”
“Sire, who is the Silver Queen?”
“You would know her from your studies as the goddess of the moon, but in truth Queen Serenity is the mistress of the Moon Kingdom at the heart of the Silver Millennium. She and her people safeguard the Earth from our more violent neighbors, and when she came to greet my son she sensed you and those like you and knew your time was coming.”
And maybe it was, Kareem – now Kunzite, the future lord of the Shitennou and master of the Middle East – thought, looking at the child. He dared to imagine a happy future for the first time since his mother’s death.