Vox Dei

You observe her from away, while she is going through a staircase made of marbles and granites; she have her eyes fixed in front of herself, but bleary by a shadow that you don't understand.

You remember those irises serene and easy, after you had her; after you have whispered on her lips promises of love and faithfulness that no man, prince or soldier should let it to slip out, instead of preserve that least pride stifled below the weight of guilt.

You follow her between the mazes of a Crystal, walking on magic projection that mark out a way that you oppose, but you can't avoid it.

At the day, you're her sword and her shield. If she told you to die for her, you would it unhesitatingly.

At the night, you're the the warm hug that heats up hers cold and lifeless dreams.

And you're jealous of an invisible ghost that only her can see, feel and follow.

You know you love her than yourself; you feel her like she is the blood that flow into your veins, the breath that gives you life.

You feel her soul on the fingertips while you're touching her skin. You share her pain when your souls touch each other. You believe in her love when, with a sob stifled against your shoulder, she tell you that she loves you.

But you also know she it's like the Moon, for you. You think you can look at her, you can touch her, to have her only for you into the cold nights of your inadequacy, but you know that you can't never possess her indeed. Because that ghost possess her more than you, and you know you can't compete with the memory of a love and a glad life that was her torn off raw, like a sword that you pierce the breast and it pulping the heart.

And that's the same which happens to your heart, whenever her eyes are lost into the void, when the others stop and she goes ahead like she is attracted by an obscure vortex, shapeless.

You follow her. You can't avoid it.

You haven't courage to leaving her, you haven't force to refuse her.

You know too well yourself. And now you know her, too.

You can't do anything except to give her all your heart, your soul and your own breath when she see you in the devastation that she has into the heart.

You go through the Zodiac Altar keeping the distances.

You know you can't touch her, you know you mustn't love her, there.

Only one sense of satisfaction when you feel the hazard of this place it focusing on you.

Because you're the obstacle to Divine Will. You hear their voices that trying to mislead you, sending you away.

You know this.

But you don't do it.

And the perception of a hope goes through your body when ( in a different but equally sacred place on the verge of explosion) her smile settled on you, while she is treating one gaping stroke on your side that continues throwing up blood.

She kisses you, mixing on yours tongues the flavor of your tears with hers.

She shares your pain, after you killed your brother.

You share her pain, after she killed her husband.

The bitter and salty taste, for both, of awareness.

You know she did it for you.

And you don't care anymore of voice of Occuria.

END.

I only say a thing: I really loved writing this short bracket Ashe/Basch.

They two are able to make me do my best.

Thank you very much, Lady_Ashe, who had the endurance following and correcting me. She is my little angel. xD