Title: Buried Miracles
Genre: Angst/Spiritual?
Character: Dante
Rating: K+ for religious themes.
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Summary: Buried under the vast city of Central, there is a stone temple. It once belonged to an ancient religion, now forgotten; Dante does not elaborate.
And now our feature presentation:
Buried under the vast city of Central, there is a stone temple. A young woman who had seen too much and suffered more, remarked that it looked like the church of the Sun God Leto. Her companion, a young woman whose eyes knew much more than they had seen smiled and explained that it belonged to an old forgotten religion. The girl who had been the crone, Dante, could have gone on to explain more about the ancient cult. It was a religion which told of a man, God made flesh, who performed miracles. He walked on water, turned stone to bread, and even raised the dead.
Dante could almost remember a time when she had marveled at those miracles. She could almost recall how she had believed in the good, caring God of that religion—felt His love, and loved Him. Much in the same way, she could almost recall how she had held her firstborn (only) child to her breast—felt his love and loved him. But all of that had been before.
Before.
Before she had walked on water.
Before her son had turned stone to bread.
Before her husband had raised the dead.
All of those befores were as deeply buried as the cathedral underneath Central. So she had held her tongue and said nothing more. The religion was forgotten by all those except those who had no souls, and it could not save them. Dante was quiet and let sleeping dogs lie.
Author's Notes: This was supposed to be longer and somehow be relevant to Ed, but I can't for the life of me remember where it's supposed to go. I like it as a standalone piece though, so I thought I'd post it. Commets are welcome.