This was something I'd wanted to do for awhile, but never had the time to. I finally sat down and began writing it in my red book I always carry, and it so happened that it was completely drafted in there. After I typed it up, I went back and added in some more detail, as well as matched the story to the timing of episode 22 and got all my necessary references for it. I'm very pleased with the end result, and I think you'll enjoy it too. This would be my 18th fic for Simoun that ended up posted on . I need to write one more, and then I will have doubled the original number of fics that were in the fandom when I first got into Simoun back in February.
They had arrived too late. By the time she'd climbed to the observation deck of the Arcus Prima, the battle had just ended. Chor Tempest had managed to deflect the Argentine forces, but not without cost to the town below. She watched the columns of smoke rising from the buildings that had been affected and saw the tiny forms of the citizens gathering near the Arcus Prima, seeking help. What did they think about the attack? Did they think Chor Tempest had failed to protect them?
"This is awful," was all she could say to Yun and Neviril in awe and shock. Neviril was right. How could it have happened this way? To see the people of the nation distressed and gathering for help gave her a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite describe. It wasn't something pleasant in the least.
Aaeru agreed with Yun. They had to do something and help. They had to do something for the people who'd suffered amongst the attacks. Without further questioning, she followed Yun, knowing that Neviril would follow soon after. In the hallway, they went their separate ways. Yun had suggested offering blessings to the people to ease their troubled souls. Neviril had agreed, and Aaeru had as well. They would meet up very shortly.
She closed the door behind her, walking over to the bed. She pulled out the long garment box beneath it. Helping the citizens meant truly being a Sibyllae. Never before had she had to truly take on the role, but now she had no choice. The necessity to help others overrode the desire to run from religion. Inside the box was the one part of the Sibylla outfit she had never donned and had never wanted to. The idea of giving blessings to many nameless faces made her nervous. She wasn't who they thought she was.
Laying the prayer shawl on the bed, she pulled out her Sibylla dress. At least she felt comfortable in the outfit. It did not require her to lie to the public. Or did it? She only wanted to fly. Why couldn't it be so easy? Sighing, she began stripping off her pilot uniform, carefully packing it inside the box. On went the white under dress, and then she pulled the Sibylla dress on. She slowly pulled the front of the dress together, taking her time knotting the bow. She eyed the shawl, still quite uncertain about putting it on.
However, she couldn't put it off forever. She knew that Yun and Neviril would be at her door any moment, waiting for her to join them. Yun and Neviril wouldn't share her doubts; each of them believed deeply in the faith and their purpose as Sibyllae. They didn't believe in just flying. Their purpose was something more.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Coming!" she yelled as she haphazardly threw on the prayer shawl, fastening it about her neck. She crossed the room quickly and pulled open the door. Neviril and Yun stood before her, each dressed in their own prayer shawls.
"Ah, Aaeru, you—" began Yun before Neviril stepped forward and began straightening Aaeru's collar.
Aaeru felt the gentle touch of Neviril's hands under her chin. She felt her face grow warm, embarrassed. She hated that she hadn't put the garment on correctly. Even if she didn't feel capable, she could have at least put it on right and acted the part.
Neviril smoothed her hands over Aaeru's shoulders, spreading out the bunched fabric. She smiled slightly. "There you go."
"T-thanks," muttered Aaeru.
The group proceeded to the ship's entrance. Aaeru took a deep breath. She couldn't back out now. She reminded herself that she had wanted to help and assist the citizens. They were suffering because the Chor had not been able to fully protect the town as they should have. Perhaps that was why she was determined to do something; she hadn't been there to help. Now she could.
They walked amongst the citizens, and she couldn't help but to marvel at the large crowd that had gathered. Her nose picked up the scent of a delicious stew nearby, but her eyes were focused on the citizens of all ages. As the citizens glimpsed the Sibyllae, they immediately feel to their knees, crossing their arms across their chests. Prayer. They had seen the priestesses and knew that Tempus Spatium would care for them. The murmurings quieted down, and Aaeru knew they were praying inwardly, wishing for protection and a better future, an end to the long war.
As she held her hands up to begin the blessing, she realized she had also never blessed a person before. She felt foolish with her hands hanging in mid-air. She didn't know what she should be praying about. How did one bless in the name of Tempus Spatium? What did one say? She couldn't… there wasn't any way…
She spoke to Neviril, not sure of what kind of answer she was expecting to hear. She merely felt that she wasn't capable of giving blessings to people who expected more of her than she ever could be. She didn't know anything about prayer; only flight and fighting. That was all she had wanted to do when given the chance to become a Sibylla. She couldn't even recall a time of prayer with her grandfather. They had never prayed together. They had the sky and the stories, and the dreams… prayer wasn't necessary.
Neviril's voice was calm and collected. She did not scold Aaeru in front of the crowd, and Aaeru guessed that even in private, it would be a subject that Neviril would speak gently with her about. The tone of voice began to calm Aaeru's fears, and she felt herself lulled by the words that seemed to roll off Neviril's tongue. She was not to be scolded like a child, for she wasn't one. She was merely a girl on the cusp of adulthood, uncertain of her choice and decision.
Neviril spoke of Amuria and her blessings. It wasn't meant to be a comparison of old and new, but rather a way to show Aaeru she wasn't alone. The seriousness of the situation allowed Aaeru to consider this before she spoke again, even though her initial reaction was to speak out that she wasn't Amuria and never would be or could be. Her face would have given away her true emotion had Neviril been facing her. She let the words wash over her, and the meaning began to dawn on her as the chattering of the young children wafted to her ears. Knowing that she wasn't the only Sibylla to feel this way consoled her. The children…they would look to her for blessing, regardless. They saw her as a priestess and not a nonbeliever.
Aaeru closed her eyes, thinking of what would console her whenever she felt alone or when her music box wasn't enough. The bright blue sky in her mind beckoned to her, called out to her soul. All at once, she filtered the sky and imagined herself there. Her mind eased as she settled into the prayer. She prayed for the people, prayed for their safety, and prayed that one day they might feel the freedom of the sky too. She felt her music box shift against her heart and knew that her grandfather would agree too.
The afternoon began to drift into evening and the sun began setting, brilliant pinks and oranges that glowed and made the shadows form and dance. Hours passed, yet, Aaeru felt none of this. Her prayer of the sky and flying freely had lulled her into a trance. Her body was certain of the blessing. Vaguely, she still sensed Neviril behind her, and this too calmed her. She drew the strength for prayer from Neviril, and her mind couldn't help but show her the two flying freely in the sky, together.
If nothing else, the people who stood before the two Sibyllae would draw from the intense feeling of strength being generated by them. Some of them glimpsed a blue sky in their vision as they prayed with the priestesses, believing it to be a sign from Tempus Spatium that the war would end soon, and the skies would be clear of any enemy aircraft that would seek to destroy them and the Simouns. They would not realize it was merely one priestess's dream that everyone should fly freely and as high as their heart so desired.