Prologue: Broken
The crystal shattered.
A haggard figure crumpled to the floor, free of the eternal
sleep. In a forgotten corner of a broken realm, the man pushed
himself up, desperately searching his hazy half-memories for an
identity, a purpose. ~Who am I...?...Jedite...~ A name. His name?
His eyes scoured his surroundings for a clue, any clue. It was dark,
and the silence was absolute; every heartbeat pounded, seemingly
echoing off the walls...~I can't even see the walls.~ Utter darkness
consumed him. He slumped again to the floor, kneeling, and put his
head in his hands.
That simple action, a simple posture, triggered a flood of
images: kneeling before a displeased Queen, "I won't fail you again
This plan is flawless;" a glowing orb of human energy, held in his
hands, the power of it awaiting his pleasure; a silhouette in a
doorway, yelling, "I will punish you;" a masked man in a tuxedo; a
final showdown at the airport against the...Sailor Scouts; his own
plans turned against him; a rushing jet, speeding to run him down; a
hasty transport back; the Queen's full anger, towards him; feverish
protests, to no avail, "I know who they are!"; a crystal prison; then,
nothing.
~So, I am Jedite~ He looked down at the faintly glowing
crystalline shards, bitterly. ~My prison...~ "For how long?"
His voice split the stillness. Rasping echos flew back to him,
as if taunting his long unused vocal cords.
"A year."
He turned, struggling to stand, but failing. He readied a blast
of energy to destroy the intruder...
...And discovered he was powerless.
The voice (a woman, Jedite realized) laughed dryly, humorlessly,
at his fruitless attempt to blast her into oblivion. "Of course not,
Jedite. That crystal would have drained you of everything just to
keep itself sustained and you imprisoned."
"Who are you?" Jedite croaked.
There was a flare of light. Jedite threw his arm up to shield
his eyes.
"Not so bright! His poor eyes aren't used to it," a second
voice said in an almost motherly tone. The light dimmed considerably,
and Jedite slowly brought his arm down. "Much better," the woman
said.
Jedite blinked. Facing him were two women. The first held a
ball of violet-tinged light in her hand. She looked coolly back at
him, raising an eyebrow. She had long, thin, lavender hair, tied
back, and wore a serviceable uniform, somewhat modified to her own
tastes, in contrasting shades of purple. The other was hovering two
feet above the floor, with the aid of her wings. These were a rather
grotesque affair, being the skeletal remains of giant, bat wings. She
was dressed completely in tattered white, a scarf draped around her
arms. Her curly white hair was pulled into a short ponytail. Both
had a curious black flame design somewhere on their outfits, the
purple one on the hem of her split skirt, and the white one on her
scarf. The white one looked at him kindly. Jedite vaguely recognized
the duo as minor commanders, but...
As if in answer to his unasked question, the first nodded to him.
"Iolite," she said in introduction.
"Angelite." The other dipped her wings slightly and then
swooped over to him.
Jedite tried again to stand, in an effort to reclaim some of his
dignity, but his legs would not hold him. He pounded the floor
feebly, cursing his weakness, hating that such underlings should see
him like this.
"You poor dear," Angelite put a strong hand under his arm and
lifted him to his feet. "You're emaciated."
"Sucked dry by that crystalline vampire," he muttered bitterly.
Suddenly he realized something. Staring at Iolite, he demanded, "Queen Beryl! Is she--?" He could barely voice it.
The two commanders exchanged a glance.
"Dead," Iolite said simply.
"Destroyed by the Silver Imperium Crystal," Angelite added,
searching Jedite's face for signs of shock, trauma.
Instead, Jedite grinned. Laughed unkindly. "Destroyed," he
repeated. "By the Silver Imperium Crystal. How appropriate."
"Hm," Iolite smirked.
A thought occurred to Jedite. ~If we're still *here*, then...~
"What of the Negaforce? Those whelps didn't destroy *that*, did
they?"
"Not exactly..." Iolite and Angelite looked at each other in a
strange mix of anticipation, fear, and motherly affection.
"She's--"
Angelite was interrupted by an echoing laugh. The bright peals
enveloped Jedite, coming from everywhere and nowhere at one instant.
It was a child's laugh, but held promise of destruction, devastation,
twisted power.
"Can I play with him?" The voice of a small girl, the source of
the laugh, echoed in his mind. Dark winds whipped around him, lifting
him from the stone floor, and carried him in a black maelstrom out of
the chamber.