Saintly Sword Romantic Story

I do not own Legend of Mana. It rightfully belongs to SquareEnix, formally known as Square Soft. This is a work of fanfiction, written on whatever spare time I can manage, and a project of love.


Prologue: Goddess's Chosen

"It is love; love, the comfort of the human species, the preserver of the universe, the soul of all sentient beings, love, tender love."

Voltaire


The woman – young, with long strawberry blonde hair, and dressed in the simple jerkin and trousers of a blacksmith – stood with her mouth agape. The door was wide open, with a cloaked middle-aged, dark-skinned woman holding a swaddled infant still cooing and grasping at long, lush black hair. The younger one could only shake her head.

"How?"

The cloaked woman's beautiful, wizened face clouded over in a haunted expression.

"She was chosen. You understand what that means."

"B-but!" The younger one protested. "She's my brother's daughter! Their first born! They wanted a child for years and now their family is being torn apart?!" The smith paced back and forth in the main room of the homestead, the fire still burning bright and warm in the hearth, a cozy and stark contrast to the news she was receiving. "We have seen far too much, for ourselves and for that of the world. Why must this continue?"

"I… I can honestly say that even I don't know. All I know for right now is that she and one other were chosen, and we are running out of time."

The young blacksmith slumped down in a nearby chair, eyes glazed over and staring blankly. The cloaked woman stepped closer, cradling the small infant in her arms.

"Who is the other one?" The young woman finally spoke after several long, agonizing minutes.

"A boy. A mere year older than she." The infant was passed between the two women, and the blacksmith awkwardly cradled the tiny thing in her callused hands, her athletic and toned arms.

"And what of the boy?"

The cloaked woman paused, thinking carefully of her answer.

"His parents were already are lost to us. I found a veteran of the wars. A kind old man with a great deal of gentleness and character, and of whom had lost his family once before. The boy will be raised as he would his own son."

"So that leaves…" The young woman stammered, her words failing her. "That leaves my family, and the boy."

"Her parents are gone. The Faeries grow ever more bold, and ever more ruthless."

"That makes three. Me and…"

"Yes."

The cloaked woman paced back and forth as if deep in thought. This was a troubling development. She no longer had the time she needed to prepare for what was to come, and her fall-back plan was flawed at best.

"They're only children. Just… Just mere children, barely stating anew in this world, and yet… They face an impossible task."

"Indeed, indeed… I had hoped it would not come down to this. That we would have more time, to allow the Sproutlings to gather their strength, to allow the world to heal more on its own… But…"

A hesitation.

"The Goddess is fallen. The Tree is in crisis. We have no choice."

"Perhaps we never did." the young blacksmith lamented, hugging the baby girl, thumb stroking the tender skin, the flushed cheeks and full, pink lips. "She's barely weeks old, and she already has much of her mother's face. She'll be quite the pretty one when she grows. Oh look, her father's eyes. My brother's eyes. Blue."

There was a sadness to the statement, as if the young woman had already fallen in love and was both saying hello and goodbye.

The cloaked woman turned, facing the window. The winds of change were echoing, whispering of the task yet to be done, and yet to be fulfilled. She closed her eyes. A breath, a sigh, long and slow and deliberate, barely a touch upon the air. Something had to be done. Something had to be made right once more. This simply could not be the best course of action. Something… Something… Unless. She opened her eyes again, resolve tempered and renewed, like the forging of steel within the flames and coals.

"There is a way. I have a way."

"What is it?"

"I will have to work quickly, as time is short. It has always been short, ever since my mother foolishly burrowed into a place she was not allowed, desiring a power that was not hers to claim."

"What is it, Mistress Puppeteer?"

"The other six do not know of me. They cannot know of me until I allow for it. They will encourage the current path, but I… I have another way."

"Tell me."

The Puppeteer smiled.

"The only way for them to even have a chance is to be not hidden from the world, but to embrace it. Not to deny the bonds of life, but to know of them. They will be so loved. They will not be alone."

The blacksmith stood, shifting and cradling the infant ever closer. The little girl made a soft noise as she drifted to sleep.

"They will come to know of family, of friends, and even a lover's touch?"

"Yes. But I have much to do. Much of what I need has been scattered across the land. It is a flawed plan, with a great deal of risk, and will require much time and careful planning. But… It could very well possibly work."

The cloaked woman turned to leave, but stood and watched as the young blacksmith murmured, whispering to the sleeping little girl. "You are going to so loved, little one. One day, you will grow, and see this world with your own eyes. You will do many, wonderful, marvelous things. And you will make us all so, so proud."

"You will be so, so loved, little one. My little girl. You mother and father, they loved you so, and it broke them to have to leave you behind. But I shall never leave you now. You have me. Your Auntie. My dear little girl. You are never alone."

She continued.

"You will know the comfort of a family, and all of the warmth and softness it gives. You will know the loyalty of friends, of whom shall always be true. You will know the tenderness of a lover's touch, and their unwavering affection and trust. You know all of these things and more, my dear, sweet girl. They will not abandon you. You, my dear, you will be so, so loved, and so passionately give that love in return."

The cloaked woman's face softened, and eyes gleamed with determination. She turned to leave. Her task before her daunting and long. She had much to do, and little time to do it. The fate of saving a broken and dying world, a hard one. The blacksmith barely even looked up.

"Guard her well, Brighid Bolnivard. Guard her well, and raise her. Love her as your own."

"She already is…" Brighid murmured softly, eyes twinkling with such love. With a small jolt, she glanced up. "What are their names? The girl and the boy?"

Anuella the Puppeteer halted at the door, parted lips then turning upward in a small smile.

"Their names are Anli Bolnivard and Kaleb M'avyare. They are the last, and they are the Goddess's chosen."


End Prologue

Life, lack of interest, and the general need to jump-start a freelance career and finish my college degree has left this fic on the back burner for years, and it's about time I dived back into writing again. Sad to say, the story I do have already no longer fits the story I have in mind and want to tell. So here I am, re-writing it. As I'm a freelance creative professional, my work and projects come first, fandom second. But I'm determined to not let this fall by the way side. Wish me luck. :)

I will say this upfront: this is an EscadxHeroine story. It's my oldest OTP, and I've been a fan of the pairing since I first played the game. And yes, I do fanart too. They're a fun pair, so please do stick around.

Finally, I have a tumblr. Link's in my profile. Bug me there. :D