(Invitation)  soft to be strong
// somewhere between 3000 ~ 3500



Princess Lady Serenity was not her mother. The reasons why were innumerable, though sometimes Jeremiah thought it boiled down to the fact that Cynthia was not a fan of his particular brand of training. (Let us be honest, Cynthia was not necessarily a fan of any training.)

Cidney, on the other hand, thrived upon it. In fact, of all the people he had trained in the countless centuries of life he had so far, the Princess was the student that had taken the best to his preferred style of sword combat.

Not just that but she listened well when he had taught her how being small was just another tool in her arsenal. There really was nothing quite like watching her floor someone who had more than over a foot of height on her, himself included.

Besides: just because they were in a time of peace didn’t mean they could slack off. As much as Jeremiah preferred peace, it certainly suited them all better, he believed in being prepared.

... and he still never did well when he was bored, so there was that too.

Which was he was waiting within one of the practice rooms, equipment beside him so that Cidney could pick just what she wanted to train with. Personally, he hoped it was sword-fighting, if only because it felt good to see his combat style passed down.

That and he was hoping to see if she had actually practiced those speed endurance workouts he had taught her. It was one thing to simply use their preternatural abilities to enhance speed but the body needed to be able to handle it without feeling tired.

... then again, thought Jeremiah, was it even possible to tire out the Princess’s Silver Crystal? No, probably not, the body would give before it did. He just hoped that it would never have to be proven as a fact.

As soon as he saw the Princess, his hand lifted in greeting as he smiled at her. “Princess,” greeted Jeremiah, standing up to sweep into a bow--he was always so proper--before straightening up, “how are you? Ready for training today?”






Training was something that the now Princess Lady Serenity took seriously - on top of most other things. Between the classes that she took when she was still called Small Lady and the "training sessions" that she had been given in the past (that were less training sessions and more actual, catastrophic events) it had been made clear to Cidney that times of peace were fleeting. She was still, of course, able to transform into Sailor Moon whenever she wanted and the Quartet were around waiting for the need just as she was; but even then that didn't mean a whole lot when there were no bad guys to beat up.

That meant that she would have to find other avenues of keeping her skills sharp. Other avenues of actually paying attention to things and learning new tricks. That was why she'd worked so closely with certain people in the palace like Sailor Uranus in order to make sure that she was able to take care of whatever problems that would be had. Perhaps a little more shocking than Uranus, though, was Zoisite. When most people thought of the European King they probably envisioned him at a piano, or cooking in his kitchen, standing aside the other kings. He appeared softer than the other three, and generally speaking, his demeanor was soft as well.

The fact of the matter was that the outward softness that he gave off was not a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Cidney and Zoisite were similar beings in that they projected a certain, regal air about themselves at times, and then in other times there could be a notable switch. Zoisite was a dangerous man, and the fact of the matter was that all four of the kings were... but there was a reason that instead of Nephrite or Kunzite, Cidney took Zoisite up on his offer to train and to spar on the occasion. There was a lot that she believed she could learn from him, and so she looked forward to their sessions.

She wasn't a kid anymore; the truth of the matter was that even though the people of the Crystal Millennium aged slowly in the first place, she hadn't actually been a child in a rather long time. She'd grown into her own, and she was recognized as a princess and warrior in her own right, but there was a part of her that became giddy at the very idea of the training sessions. She didn't bother transforming - that might have been an unfair advantage, even though Zoisite was plenty capable, she was still Eternal Sailor Moon. Instead she dressed in standard fencing attire, and made her way to the training room they had claimed as their own.<p>

"I asked you not to call me that," Cidney said with a chuckle. "You've known me since I was in diapers, and... I'm not entirely comfortable with the implications of people going around calling me 'princess' or 'your highness.'" It was true. Even when she was small, she insisted that people call her by her given name as opposed to her title or, if they had to call her by her title, that they just use Small Lady. "I'm alright. I'm eager," she admitted, grinning and looking around at the available weapons.

But let's be real, there was only one real option.





Though immortal, thanks to the blessings of the Silver Crystal, there were just the faintest crows feet at the corners of Jeremiah’s eyes. Wrinkles that, when he smiled, became a touch more obvious and only enhanced the smile that he gave her. It made him look that much more impish, the very picture of the troublesome young man he had once been (and still was to a certain degree).

“Ah, but if I didn’t say it at least once I would not get to see that look you get.” That slight narrowing of her eyes; a slight exasperation because he always did it. “It helps me know all continues to be right with the world.” Truly, the rituals and otherwise that Zoisite--Jeremiah--held onto were staggering (and also based in good-natured teasing and trolling; even if Cidney, like her mother, was exempt to a certain extent).

A hand was held out towards Cidney, to clasps hers and be clasped in turn. While it served the purpose of a greeting, it also helped ensure that the Golden King of Healing and Purification could get a read on her vitals and health. The weirdest thing, of course, was that he pressed his point and middle finger to the pulse point in her wrist. It was not something he needed to do to know her pulse but rather something born of years of habit; it was confirmation that Cidney was not only alive and well but Jeremiah was awake and conscious.

The action, though centuries old, had been born from a combination of things. Mostly, however, it was from how real his nightmares could be--still were--and reassured him that everything was alright. After so many years, it was simply a habit; a quirk of his personality few knew (and something that he only did with those he was closest to and cared about the most.

(Considering that he had helped raise Cidney--the very picture of a doting uncle--his great affection for her was no surprise.)

“Eager means you’ve the energy to spare,” said Jeremiah, giving one last gentle squeeze of her hand before letting go, “and means we should make things interesting today.” With a sweep of his hand, he gestured towards the weapons that lined the wall but most would likely be ignored.

While there were many weapons, some in the styles that were preferred by certain natives of the planets within the Sol System, it was the single-handed blades that called for their attention.

“Is there a particular form you would like to focus upon today or ...” There was that troublesome glint to his queerly bright blue-green eyes. “Would you like to open with a practice match?”







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