This little fanfiction was inspired by .com/ and her awesome Miles Edgeworth cosplay...especially this picture: .com/art/Miles-Edgeworth-The-Tower-142941863
Go to her profile and show her some love!!
The Tower
Miles stepped out of the old, gray church and took a deep breath. The winter air in Germany was crisp and the sun shone brightly in the light blue sky. The church was a relic left over from the Eighteenth century that survived all the wars and devastating weather that was thrown at it. Neither his own father, nor Manfred had ever taken him to church; religion was never a strong subject in either household. So, when Miles was young, he never understood what the adults were saying when they said "Your father is in a better place," or "You are in our prayers." Prayers to whom? Was there an entity that decided every ones fate? Needless to say, Miles grew up without any sort of spiritual direction. Of course, he educated himself in all religions, and found the same ridiculous theme in each; that there is a power greater than us out there and they control our fates and destinies.
As Miles circled the church tower, he let his fingers trail over the rough stone, that, if it could talk, would tell a thousand tales. He wondered which one these would talk about. His thoughts drifted back to...him...as they always did. The one whose perseverance and strength shone through everything else, despite the circumstances. Miles chuckled softly to himself as he thought about how appropriate Phoenix's name was. Did his parents realize this when they named him, he wondered.
He looked over the horizon, over the fields blanketed in white, over the little farm houses with their grain towers, and realized he had traveled further outside of Berlin than he thought or had planned. Planned...ha! He scorned himself for not facing his fears, or his own destiny. He ran away, again. But this time, it was from Phoenix, or the memory of that man. Miles thought that if he drove long enough, fast enough, far away enough, he could escape the feelings that consumed him whenever he was still. When he had spied this church tower on the horizon, it seemed to call to him and he answered. Miles found it ironic that a church had caused him to contemplate his future. He shook his head and for the second time that day chuckled at himself.
"Sir, may I ask what you are laughing at?" Miles straightened up and whipped around at the beautiful German dialect. It belonged to an older woman, who was bent and silver-haired, but gave off an aura of vitality. She was dressed warmly in a wool pea-coat, similar to Miles's charcoal coat that he was wearing, and a bright colorful scarf that was wrapped tightly around her neck.
Miles cleared his throat and blinked at her. "I apologize, Madam," Miles answered in German. "I didn't mean to offend. I was just recollecting a memory..." Was he blushing? He felt his cheeks warm.
"Oh, a pleasant memory, of a dear loved one, I see." She smiled warmly. "You did not offend young man. I thought I had heard someone crying and when I came around the tower, I found you, chuckling to yourself." Miles saw a look of confusion fly across the woman's pale face as she spoke. Her eyes were wise to the ways of the world, and he knew that she couldn't and wouldn't be fooled.
"I...yes," He paused to gather his thoughts. "It was a pleasant memory of an old...friend that I need to touch base with."
"Hmm..." The woman looked up at the sturdy church tower for a moment, as if plucking some wisdom from a distant place, then turned her attention back to Miles. "You need not to need," She started as she gently took his gloved hands in hers. "Or else a love with intuition, someone who reaches out to your weaknesses and won't let go. You've always been the tower, now it's time to let someone else hold you up, and guide your inner strength." She paused to take a breath. Letting go of Miles's hands she unwrapped her scarf and before wrapping it around Miles, she asked permission. Ducking his head in response, she gently wrapped it around his neck. "You will need this on your long journey to find...whatever it is you came here to find."
Miles furrowed his brow. "Pardon me, Madam but you will be co-"
"No, I will be fine. This church and it's citizens keep me warm."
Miles contemplated that for a second, then pulled his coat closer to himself. "Then I thank you, for everything."
"Don't worry young man, things will fall into place. The one that you think about loves you just as much as you love them. The wounds of love are cured by love itself." The woman smiled one more time before turning and walking away. Miles blinked at the spot where she had stood, mulling over everything she said. He trotted around the tower to thank her again, but found no one there. Walking up to the large wooden door, he found that it was locked. He stared at it incredulously.
Miles was not a spiritual man, but he was starting to believe in his own inner strength.