The Rise of Pluto

It was the noise that woke me first.

The relentless sound of wind, whipping and lashing at the row of carriages, like nails on a chalkboard. The tedious ebb and flow of the rolling wheels, lugging their way speedily down the track. The whistle of the steam, shooting out like a whale’s blowhole, screeching and screaming into the night sky until it was nothing but a glimmer in the wind.

I was on… a… train?

One of those mechanical caterpillar-like contraptions. I remember them from a few centuries ago, on an intel trip to Earth. A time when Earth-dwellers, “Humans”, as they’re called, had marvelled and fawned over the outdated form of transport. I had briefly inhabited the body of a high society socialite; well-off, but controversial for her time. Involved in both the opulent pursuits so characteristic of the upper class, parties and balls and the like, but, contrarily, also a fierce advocate for social change. Her widely-known reputation and fiery personality allowed for more freedom to travel and gather intel on Earth in a female-presenting body. I loathed inhabiting male bodies, but, in those days, sometimes a necessary evil, given the inequalities Earth had been so prone to upholding.

It was good to see them loosened over centuries. Somewhat. Unlike the hideously archaic ideals Mars and the Martians continued to cling to with an iron fist. Barbarians that they were.

But a train… there were much more efficient modes of travel available on Earth now. Why a train?

…Why am I here?

My eyes shot open, the sway of the cart rocking me gently to and fro. Scrunching my face, I squinted into the inky surroundings as the eyes of this human body acclimated to the room around me. A small slit at the top of the wall adjacent to me was my only source of light, the silvery moonlight leaking out in tendrils onto the opposite wall and floor. The room was small, with only just enough room either way to lay completely flat. My wrists, raw with frost, chaffed against a restraint, a tight binding tethering my arms backwards. A quick assessment of the rest of my body informed me my ankles had found a similar fate.

Lying bound on my side, I could make out the outline of another body, legs to chest and arms bound behind their back, huddled in the corner of the carriage room. His broad shoulders were too wide for the small, cramped space and his luminescent hair glittered like molten copper in the small slivers of moonlight.

Adriel. Well, the human body Adriel currently inhabited. Fantastic. I huffed out a throaty sigh. Well, there goes either of us accomplishing what we set out to do.

Stretching my bound legs, the knees protesting with a creak, I easily sought him across the cramped room with my toes. Flexing my calves back, I thrust as much force as I reasonably could into the double-footed kick to his backside. His cheek meshed with the wall, and a gruff chunk of air grunted out of him. His brow crinkled, his nose bunching at the bridge as consciousness blanketed him. His eyes yawned opened, and I - just - could make out his eyes roving over the darkness, furiously trying to acclimate to the inky surroundings as mine had mere moments ago.

“Adriel,” I hissed into the shadows. A beat. He heaved a sigh of discontentment as I sensed his assessment of the situation concluding, “Where are we?

“On a train,” I retorted cautious of the volume. I had no idea how we got here or who was behind this, my head felt heavy and burdensome.

“What in the Cosmos is that?” He exclaimed, a little too loud as I hurriedly hushed him.

Grunts emitted from the corner as Adriel began to struggle against his wrist binds, his head whipping around in assessment, trying to formulate some genius plan no doubt. I snorted internally as he began to shuffle, swaying from side to side to hop via his buttocks, into the thin sheath of moonlight near the adjacent wall.

Despite his rejection of his title in Mars and Martian principles, Adriel sure held true to the part-and-parcel Mars nature. In fact, he was exceptionally Martian. Impulsive, embarrassingly hot-headed and nauseatingly, stereotypically masculine, I often marvelled at how he’d managed to live as many years as he had.

Though each planet had a homogenous nature you could count on its inhabitants to subscribe to; Mercury and Mercutians, brainy, witty and animated as ever; Venus and Venusians, beautiful, refined and true leisure-seekers; or Uranus, the Aquarians, erratic, innovative and trail-blazing trend-setters - it was unfair to paint someone with the brush of their planet. Every individual - though informed by their heritage, their home - was unique.

But, perhaps, to me, Martians deserved every lick of predisposed judgement they got.

The people of the Moon, my people - the Crescents- would never, could never, forgive nor offer a crumb of kindness to Mars. Not after their violent pillaging of my home centuries ago. The sexual violence inflicted on the women of the Moon. Those born out of said violence, were treated like dirt like they were lesser than on Mars because of their traumatised bloodline. Those precious Crescents damned to a life of derogation, regarded as little more than half-breeds and ingrates. Mars to this day would never apologise, never feel a lick of remorse for what they've done.

Would do it again, given the chance.

We still bare those scares on the Moon, as does Venus, who found a similar fate alongside us when Mars began the Red Crusade those centuries ago. Our homes specifically, violently targeted for their matriarch societies, the celebration of feminine energy, the hatred Mars had for it as well as the Moon’s protectiveness of Earth.

That was the last time a planet in the Cosmopolitan attempted to claim Earth - the least advanced planet by far, its inhabitants far off developing into the magical alien they would eventually evolve to in time, just as every population of each planet had. Its weak people rendered it a painfully simple planet to overpower.

That was Mars’ end goal at the beginning of the Red Crusade when the rest of us were more or less under its thumb. Having wrangled Pluto under its’ rule at the time, it dominated it for decades as we scrambled to stop it. Having control over two planets already threw the Cosmopolitan’s equilibrium out of order, a third planet would have meant certain eternal damnation for the rest of the system, no hope of ever escaping the brutal Martian regime they'd already begun to force upon us. When the rest of the Cosmos came privy to Mars’ plans for domination of a third planet, grudges and predispositions amongst planets were abandoned, and alliances formed to fight for peace in the galaxy. Great War was forged against Mars, its consequences eternally devastating. Eventually, somehow, Pluto turned on Mars and separated, effectively ending the war as Mars retreated to a solitary one-planet system.

Not a word had been heard from Pluto since.

Not for lack of trying, its’ closest neighbours, the Neptunians and Aquarians, had attempted to establish contact, to offer assistance in the wake of Mars’ greedy pillaging. But Pluto had erected strong walls around it, invisible barriers that kept anyone but itself and its’ inhabitants out - much to all our surprise. That was a skill no planet had seen nor heard of, and, it was only logical to assume, given Mars’ desecration of Pluto, that it would not have the energy nor resources to practice and enforce such impenetrable magic. But, perhaps, they had been plotting in secrecy against the Martians for decades.

Or so we speculated.

Alas, for centuries, Plutonians have remained a mystery. No one left, and no one entered. And the Cosmopolitan was content to keep it that way, despite altruistic intentions and the gnawing curiosity.

With Mars forced, begrudgingly, to surrender, a treaty was drafted amongst the planets to ward off a similar disaster ever taking place again. The rules; No one is to attempt to overtake Earth (or any other planet for that matter), the Moon and the Crescents act as protectors of Earth and all communication is to go through them, and lastly, if you are to ever visit Earth (approved by the Crescents) you occupy an Earth-Dweller’s body, forgoing any of your powers, and pledge to do it and the planet no harm. Violation of the treaty is punishable by death. Something us Crescents, given our peace-loving nature, still struggle with to this day. But by Utilitarian principle, it is for the greater good. Thankfully, no one has tried to violate said treaty since the Red Crusade.

Until now.

And here I was. With Adriel Arien. A direct descendant of the Martian royal line, the cream of the crop of the planet’s pecking order.

Though, Adriel had rejected his heritage, rejected his claim to Martian royalty and nauseating access to wealth and power. Escaping Mars, living a nomadic life amongst lesser planets, his father, the King, had solidified an eternal bounty on Adriel’s head for the disrespect to the family name.

His assisting in this mission to find who or what was violating the treaty would not bode well on Mars once word eventually reached them. Goodness Galaxy, no. I suppressed a shudder whenever it crossed my mind. Just another notch under my belt of issues. Ha.

Adriel had successfully shuffled and hopped into the silky moonlight, the opalescent pallor milky on his mortal host’s bronzed skin, turning the tone a molten caramel. The host he’d chosen was remarkably similar to his own; tall, chiselled and coppery with pooling auburn locks cascading to below the chin - save for his natural golden eyes, the colour of riches and lusted earthly carats. This body’s were a muted brown, dull and flat like coffee-stained parchment. Not at all like his coveted gold. Beautiful.

I cleared my throat, swallowing and desecrating the attraction bubbling up in me. Adriel was frozen, his breath shallow, now staring at his ankles illuminated by the light of the moon.

They were bound, but not by rope. Great, shadowy tendrils, thick and smoky, ebbed and flowed around his ankles in a circular motion, lapping at the joint like an inky octopus,

“What is that?” I queried in alarm, “That’s… is tha-”
 “Magic,” he retorted quietly, knowingly. I frowned.

“Ma… From who? I’ve never seen that from any planet before,” He continued to stare pointedly as I waited for his answer. He didn’t. I huffed.

“Unless the Earth has advanced quicker than we though-”

“It isn’t from Earth.”

I paused, my brows knitting together again. In suspicion. “You seem to be quite certain of that.”

His low voice crawled just above a whisper, “I am. I’ve seen this… a long time ago. In a far darker time,” He hesitated, “This is Plutonian magic.”

My body stilled, my breath stuck between my ribs.

“That’s…it’s not possible,” my voice joined his float above a whisper, our eyes fixated on the shadowed tendrils swarming his ankles. I looked down to my own, still laden with the shadow of the light-barren side of the room. But…there… If I squinted into the shadow, I could just make out the swirling mist of black. Adriel shook his head in disbelief, the tendrils of copper hair kissing his cheeks. Confusion bubbled in my chest and spilled out my mouth like vomit,

“ But… no one’s heard anything from them for centuries. Why would they- I mean what- what do they have to do with this? I- Adriel?”

Adriel had gone silent, as though in another world, lost in the contemplation of our revelation. A few beats passed by, the thick silence broken by the tandem of the moving train, the creak and sway of the carriages and wheels lumbering recklessly down the track.

“I’ve seen Plutonian magic, seen the extent of their capabilities,” another shake of disbelief as his eyes turned to gaze through the window slot, “This is not good.”

I just stared in silence, unsure of what to say or what to think, the cogs of my mind desperately scrambling to piece it all together. As much as I wanted to refute his conclusion - I knew nothing of the Plutonians. Adriel had been alive when his grandfather began the Red Crusade, of course, he’d be privy to Plutonian magic - if that’s what this was.

With uncanny timing, the door on the wall slid open so quickly it gave the illusion of vanishing. Mine and Adriel’s necks snapped to the door in unison, the doorway haunted by a tall, dark figure. The creature was still, silent, but the presence radiating from it was immense. It took one step into the room, into the sliver of moon that Adriel had subtly shifted out of at the arrival of our shadowed stranger.

His skin was the colour of porcelain, pulled taut like the hide of a drum, so much so it was translucent. Blue and green veins decorated exposed skin like tree roots, and the plains of muscle braided over bone made peaks and valleys over his form. His eyes were slanted almonds, black as coal and deathly cold. The chiselled cheekbones of his haunted face created a sallow valley from eye to jaw, his ears sharp and goblin-like. And impossibly, frighteningly tall.

He looks like the personification of a ghost, as though someone had half resurrected the deceased, leaving him barren with the markers of death in physical form.

His eyes slowly scanned the room, roving over my body from top to toe, my skin rippling with goose pimples at his calculated assessment. His expression did not change as his gaze crept along the floor to Adriel, whose expression had turned to rigid politeness. Their eyes met, and an excruciatingly uncomfortable amount of moments passed as they stared each other down in silence.

Slowly, the ghostly man’s taut mouth slid into an eerie grin and a low chuckle snaked out his lips.

“Prince Adriel,” he purred, “Words fail to convey the pleasure it is to see you again after all these years.”

Adriel, thin-lipped and stiff, gave a curt nod,“ Náli.”

Náli clapped his slender hands together in a prayer gesture, bringing them to his lips in contemplative glee. The tips of his fingers shot out in pointed, black claws.

“My, my… And with…,” Náli sniffed the air in my direction, “A Crescent? How delicious. How curious… given the history of your ancestors…” He drawled, dawdling to the centre of the cramped room. I gritted my teeth, not needing the reminder.

“What fun we shall have, Zagan is so looking forward to seeing you,” Adriel’s face blanched, as Náli chuckled darkly to himself. “Come, little friends!”

Náli clapped his hands and the tendrils around our ankles unfurled and began to slither synonymously up our torsos, snaking around our neck in a phantom noose before stretching out into a shadowy rope attached to either neck piece. Our wrists remained bound behind our back.

Náli turned quickly, landing a blow in Adriel’s gut, the bite of the boot sinking swiftly into the soft human flesh, the wind whooshing out of him in a dry wretch.

“Stand up,” he snarled, cruelly wrenching Adriel to his feet as his lungs fought against the blow. My head jerked forward at the motion, the shadowed tether between our two necks making us bound to each other’s movements.

I hastily rose, a difficult feat when you didn’t have your arms to balance or support you.

Náli turned swiftly, gliding out the door and left. Adriel and I locked eyes briefly before he followed and I fell in step behind him, our smokey leash floating on a phantom wind between us.

We proceeded down a long, hallway. On the left, doors identical to ours lined the deep, panelled walls, yawning in exaggerated height up to the ceiling. The walls were crafted of rich, artisan wood, espresso in colour and the carpeted floor was a deep black with delicate, glittering silver thread woven through in elaborate patterns. Candles, suspended in the air by magic, floated in obsidian dishes down the hall just above Náli’s head, the ceiling wildly high to accommodate his gargantuan height.

I speculated the door sizes and ceiling heights were to oblige those as stupidly tall as Náli. My stomach quivered as I considered the possibility his height wasn’t an anomaly.

The right side was plastered with ornate windows, the glass lightly frosted and marred by beautiful wrought-iron patterns Vast, night-kissed desert rushed past us as the train continued its aimless journey into the looming dark. I felt my chest squeeze as my eyes fell to the moon.

The hall was endless and the decor didn’t change, though we passed rows and rows of the same stretched door we walked out of. I pointedly ignored the whimpers and moans that emitted from some as we ambled by.

As Náli approached one of the identical doors, it quickly slid open, golden light spilling out of it and illuminating the hall and he turned swiftly into it, Adriel and I warily trailing behind.

The size of the room was impossible, given the size of our cell and what I reasonably calculated would be the size of the train. It made no sense. Magic, of course.

It was a grand throne room, adorned in a scheme of onyx and crystalline silver. The marbled floor was crafted of the same obsidian as the candle holders, swirled with opalescent moonstone. Great walls as high as the other stretched to a curved dome ceiling, polished charcoal to match the ground, and a humongous five-tiered crystal chandelier spewing rainbows across the room.

Náli approached a straight-backed throne in the far centre of the room, crafted of the same rich wood as the halls, atop a tourmaline dais. A male occupied the throne.

His presence was immense, as though his mere existence sucked the air from the room, and communicated grave danger without so much as a movement, word or breath.

As such, he did not move; An ankle was crossed lazily over a knee, his back slouched into the throne, elbow on the armrest and his chin resting atop his knuckles.

But the eyes watched, assessed, us, just as a predator would prey. His expression stone-faced and hard, unrelenting.

I had to admit, despite the crushing waves of power rolling off his skin - the male was… incredibly attractive.

He appeared tall, not as tall as Náli, but considerably so. His hair, so impossibly black it shone plum in the light, fell in soft licks around his face, kissing his brow and jawline. His skin tone was odd - a buttery tan that shimmered coldly, as if scratching the surface of his skin would reveal crushed pearl, and his iris’ glowed a Lunarian silver in his feline-shaped eyes.

His dress was simple but elegant. A tunic and matching pants in the finest obsidian velvet, trimmed with the same shining, opaline lining as the hall's carpet.

Beautiful. He was beautiful.

And evidently, meant trouble.

He continued to stare at Adriel, both of us positioned before the dais, cocking his head slowly after a few agonising minutes. His eyes flicked to me, roving methodically over my body in a way that felt like a violation.

His attention turned back to Adriel. “Prince Adriel Arien,” he spat the words softly, “my word, it’s been quite some time. Hasn’t it?”

Adriel's eyes tightened, and with a quick nod of the head he relinquished, “Zagan.”

Zagan inspected his nails. “And the esteemed Luna Apphelion. An odd coupling, indeed.” His eyes raked over me again, settling on my face as I started at his recognition of me. A flicker of savagery ghosted in his eyes as he held mine. I all about willed myself not to tremble under his gaze.

Adriel inhaled deeply as if considering his next move - a rare feat indeed. His jaw set as his eyes levelled with Zagan. “Though I pray it’s not true, I can only imagine exactly what your business here is.”

Zagan’s lips quirked in amusement. “Oh?”

Tension thrummed between them, male between male, thick and violent. Adriel ground his teeth, as Zagan wafted his hand, “Please, entice us with your theorising, oh mighty one.”

“Lazy work, if you ask me, picking at my father’s sloppy seconds”

Zagan’s steely gaze did not balk at the bait. “Your father is many things, most of which I’d presume you agree with, but efficient he is certainly not. Your father was the bones - Pluto the meat, the tendon and blood. We will finish what he could not and rightly solidify our place as the superiors of the Cosmopolitan.”

Adriel snorted. “Superior. Right. That’s why you spent so much time under the thumb of Mars.”

Zagan went ferociously rigid, the only sign of his irritation. “Do not speak on things you know next to nothing about.”

Adriel shrugged. “But that is the plan, right? Take over Earth? That’s the grand scheme you’ve been plotting for centuries in your little fortress?”

“More or less.”

Adriel snorted again. “Still cryptic, I see.”

“All in jest.”

Zagan’s eyes twitched to my still form as I processed the conversation.

Pluto had managed to surpass me and the Moon made it to earth and evaded us for this long and practised magic. Evidently very dark, powerful magic at that, given Adriel’s reaction to the shadowed bindings. I’d seldom seen him balk at much and that was as good an indication as any.

My eyes fluttered to the ground, I queried softly. “What do you plan to do to them?”

Zagan’s dime-coloured gaze lingered on my face steely before roving idly around the room.

“Earth-Dwellers aren’t known for their self-preservation skills, but rather their idiocy and violence,” he smirked, tilting his head to Adriel, “much like Martians.”

He rose from the throne, his considerable height - cushioned by what I can assume is hard, sinewed muscle - and began a slow, considered walk down the stairs of the dais, his hands clasped behind his back.

“It is scarcely difficult to plant the seeds of their own destruction, simply whisper sweet nothings of war and betrayal amongst empires, and leave them to their own devices. Instil hysteria and divide among the people, and let them lust for blood over it, kill for it. And if they don’t… We shall give them a gentle push in the right direction.” He purred, circling us, coming to a stop in front of me.

I squared my shoulders, jutting my chin high with what I endeavoured to be fearlessness, “And then?”

I tried not to shiver at his slippery, serpentine smile.

“Chaos, love,” he drawled as he sauntered back to the throne, “chaos and then peace, as Earth starts anew- humanless, and well…” He shrugged as he sank back down languidly.

And then Pluto has control of a second planet. Just as Mars had. Though my question was answered, I could hear the coy subtext slithering under the words, the hidden violence rumbling like gushing lava. I could see in my mind’s eye the images, the history my people had sworn to prevent happening again. My stomach churned at the thought and my bowels stirred- the galaxy couldn’t withstand this again. I could not withstand this.

My skin began to prickle at the thought, rippling with rage, the thrum of the promise I made to my people and the galaxy ricocheting through my bones, gripping my very essence in an unbreakable grip.

I was practically vibrating with fury, the feeling pulsating so hot and so fast my hands felt inflamed.

Zagan tilted his head curiously, like a cat watching prey, his eyes sliding to something behind me in fascination as Adriel stole a sharp intake of breath.

Faint orange glowed behind me and flames licked out from behind my head, like a sun-kissed crown, trailing up my spine in wild, glowing ribbons.

The flame was coming from me. From my hands.

Zagan outright laughed, a deep velveteen sound, “Oh, now the fun truly begins. Tell me, miss Luna, is fire typically characteristic of the people of the Moon?”

No, it was not. We all knew that.

“Yes, so, then I’m curious to know your thoughts- How, precisely, do you suspect you inherited those powers? Am I incorrect in speculating this isn’t the first time they’ve made themselves known either?”

Also correct. I wasn’t privy to relinquish that knowledge, however, though my face must’ve said as much since his grin grew so impossibly large.

“Prince Adrrriiiiel,” he drawled with relish, “Do you care to share?”

My eyes flickered to Adriel, the flame still lapping at my back idly. His breath had steadied, his mouth a thin line, and in his eyes… fear.

I cocked my head in curiosity as I surveyed his face, but he pointedly ignored me, his eyes fixated on Zagan.

“You’ve known for quite some time, and haven’t given her the courtesy of the truth.” Zagan sighed happily.

I gritted my teeth, turning back to him, “What truth?”

“Shall you tell her or shall I?”

Adriel loosened a breath, his tone laden with a warning. “Zagan.”

“Yes, allow me to take the liberty.”

Zagan leaned forward on the throne, his expression marred with cruelty, his eyes tight with amusement.

“Now, miss Luna, I needn’t remind you of the great Red Crusade, what exactly was inflicted upon the inhabitants of your home.” I stiffened at the mention and he chuckled low, “No, I suspected as much.”

His tone slid to just above a whisper. “But, dear Luna, we’re all grown folk here. We needn’t beat around the bush about the birds and the bees.”

My brows knitted together, unsure of the direction he was headed. Adriel growled beside me, “Zagan. shut it.”

“Rumour has it, you were never privy to whom your father was, no? But I am.” He leaned back in his chair, toying with the jewelled rings adorning his bony fingers. Waiting.

My lungs felt leaden as I snatched a breath from the air, my skin rippling with distaste as a sickening thought threatened my minds-eye. He knew it too.

“That’s right, miss. I see it clicking into place for you. Your daddy was Martian and… well, I’ll let you fill in the blanks.”

Time froze. My blood stilled in my veins.

The muscles of my stomach contracted as I bent forward, spilling the little contents of my stomach onto the marble floor before me. The sound in the room moved thickly, as though tearing its’ way through sludge. I could hear the distant sound of Zagan’s delighted cackle dancing on the wind, Adriel distorted voice panicked and pleading.

My breath came in and out sharply, too fast.

Martian. Part-Martian. It made entirely too much sense.

My strength, my flame-kissed powers. The relentless passion that simmered in my very veins and provided an undercurrent to my very existence. My irrationality, my impulsivity - so different and polarising to the people of the moon. My irritation with Adriel, was because we were one and the same, two hearts cut from the same cloth.

The room blurred.

My shock, my pain and utter heartbreak thickened, evaporated from heavy water to penetrating, scalding steam as I righted myself slowly, keeping my eyes pinned to the floor.

I could feel it, feel it leaking, coursing, through every inch of my body. The crimson, orange-flecked lava, the passionate boil that constantly simmered under my skin, that I’d spent a lifetime subduing, denying.

And I was ready to erupt.

My steel gaze met Zagan’s, our eyes locked.

With a deep inhale, I released with a roar.

Flame burst from every part of my skin, every part of my body, encasing me in a sphere of luminescent, threatening warmth, shattering the shadowy bonds tethering Adriel and me and sending every being in the room scrambling for cover. The floor around me turned to charcoal, and the crystalline chandelier hovering above me melted and dripped where flames licked and kissed it.

My roar resonated high and mighty, guttural and almost demonic as I let a lifetime’s worth of restraint and fury cascade out of me. A lifetime’s worth of secrecy, of lies. Of trauma and pain. I let it free, released it.

My roar died out as I wrenched my arms behind me and high above my head, concentrating that raw, primal fury, melding it into a bright, hot sphere.

Throwing my arms forward I hurled the glowing ball of fire right at Zagan, launching it bang on into his gut as it sent him crashing back twenty feet into the far wall, the smooth marble moulding harshly to the shape of his body on impact.

I turned on my heel, making for the door.

“Luna.”

I halted, my eyes moving to Adriel, the pleading in his voice, sprawled on the floor and blackened with soot. His breath rasped with smoke inhalation, and his forearms exposed a few pear-sized burns - but he appeared mostly unharmed. His eyes were round with apology, with love.

I turned away, not allowing the heartbreak - the betrayal - I felt to overcome, because if it did I’d surely sink to the floor and let it set me ablaze.

Instead, I ran for the door, incinerating it with hot lashings, before tearing back down the hallway from which we came. Leaving Adriel.

Tears broke through my resolve, as I charged down the hall, my breath laboured and broke by crushing sobs.

But I kept running. Running down the long, enchanted train that showed no signs of slowing.

The fire whispered into smoke as I cried.