The ghostly chants of the priests reverberated throughout the enormous church, bouncing off the etched windows full of colors displaying painted scenes of faith. Light streamed down upon the followers in the pews, casting shadows across their down-turned faces. They silently grieved as a casket was slowly closed and the face of a man being seen one last time before disappearing within the great oak chamber to what would be everlasting rest. The mourner's dark clothing contrasting to the light created a sea of black, blending and molding within each other, a single unit of grief.
Except for a solitary occupant in the front pew, one reserved for the family of the deceased. The figure was surrounded by nothing but empty space and the well worn wood of the seat. Though the veiled individual's face was hidden, golden waves of hair cascaded down from within a jet black, wide rimmed hat to fall gently around her in a halo of curls, as if to separate her from the rest of the partisans by creating a glow of softness. Her back rigidly straight and legs crossed just so, creating a distinct feminine silhouette against the light. She hadn't moved an inch since the procession had begun, save her small but elegant hand which held a crucifix so tightly the edges had already started to bite into her skin causing crimson trails to slowly seep out from within the cracks of her fingers. The tension in her stature only hinted at, as her frail form stayed motionless, even as the groups started to file out.
A short while later, as the church was nearing vacancy, a young dark haired man silently approached from the shadows toward the lone blond, the rustling of his crisp suit creating a harsh noise against the silence. As he neared, he made a motion to reach toward her but stopped short when her face suddenly raised to the light and with slow but purposeful motions, lifted her veil. The silhouette of a long elegant neck and strikingly beautiful features were revealed to those left occupying the pews. A slender face, large blue eyes hooded with thick lashes, a refined nose and high cheekbones were only the start of her beauty. Hair fell to just frame her porcelain face, drastically contrasted by her full ruby lips.
"Serenity…," the young man started but stalled when he found he wasn't sure what he had to say.
No tears fell to mar her cheeks. No show of pain or sadness of silent agony. Her eyes held only an unobtrusive strength and acceptance.
"Seren-," he tried again but was cut off when she suddenly spoke and a voice fit for a siren emerged from her lips.
"Seiya."
It was said calmly but curtly with a voice that held a power that knew its authority, and he took it as the warning it was meant to be. He paused for a moment in what seemed to be thought before turning and retreating back into the shadowed rafters of the church.
She stood, slender and poised and straightened her perfectly pressed black dress. Her small five foot two form moved slowly forward, not a sound being made save for the small, steady rhythm of clicks made by her red heels on the stone floor, behind her, a bloody crucifix left on the pew. Climbing the few steps that led up to the lone coffin, she reached a graceful hand to lay flat against the wood and simply stared.
She knew what was to come next, what chain of events this happening would create and what responsibilities now would rest solely and rightly on her shoulders. Of course she knew. She had been preparing her whole life for this moment.
"Goodbye Father."
It was said barely above a whisper but her tone betrayed none of the emotion that had caused her to inflict the still bleeding wounds on her hand. She said not another word, but lifted her hand and stepped away, leaving a smear of blood on the dark oak.
When the warmth of the sun hit her face outside she knew this was it. She closed her eyes and for a moment lifted her face to the sky, letting the slow breeze caress her cheeks. Light was thrown to and fro, glimmering off the simple diamond necklace around her neck. This was the moment that she took on what she was born into. Opening her eyes once more, she didn't look back and, with a purposed step, started descending the pebbled steps towards a black limousine that lay below.
The same dark haired man from before was right behind her followed by a slew of large men in dark suits. They all fell closely behind but never a step ahead, following her every movement, silently watching and waiting.
"Serenity?" he asked timidly, unsure of what her reaction might be.
Just before stepping into the car she paused without turning around. Seiya braced himself for what he was sure would be another reprimand.
Lips parted and her angelic voice sounded out once more.
"I want Darien Marciello dead."