It was always painful to see, the same scene every so often: Medusa had broken her toy beyond repair, and it was up to Palutena to replace it. She watched in silence as several of her soldiers took the young angel's lifeless body away, treating it with care she had never experienced when she had been alive. Her skin was bruised and bloody, and it was apparent that she bore several fractured bones. Her body would be cremated, her ashes released into the wind for the world to bear witness to. The cycle would continue, one sacrifice made to protect the world from the dark goddess's wrath. The goddess of light was not fond of the arrangement, but she had little other choice than to let her world be destroyed.
And so, she swallowed her grief as her soldiers left to seize the new servant that would appease Medusa. Oh, his parents protested greatly, his father fought, his mother cried out for mercy, but they would not waver.
After all, it was for the good of the world.
Now, Palutena watched the young angel carefully, masking herself in optimism and joy as she told him of his new role. He returned her gaze with wide blue eyes, his brown hair tousled beyond help, his small white wings twitching. He couldn't have been more than five years old, brimming with life and glee.
"Welcome to your new home, Pit," she said to him, her heart twisting at the innocent trust that shone in his eyes. "You have a new duty to perform. Do you understand?" He nodded. "You will be alone," she continued, forcing herself to sound light and cheerful. "No one will come to help you. You will not stop. If you feel tired, you will push through it. If you're in pain, you will persevere. And you will always smile. Understand?"
"Okay," he replied in a small, squeaky voice. "I understand." But she knew he didn't. Not truly. Children, even angels, were so easily manipulated. If she didn't sound worried, then he wouldn't be. If she sounded like she was leading him to a bright and enjoyable future, that's what he would believe. He would never anticipate the hell he was about to endure.
All for the good of the world.
It always made her feel sick, knowing how quickly the light in his eyes would fade, how he would learn to stifle his tears and screams. He would bear it with a smile, just as every one before him had.
Until they simply could bear no more.
But that's what he would endure until his last breath, as per her bargain with Medusa. The goddess of darkness would do as she pleased, exercising little restraint as she and her monsters toyed with him. He would pray and plead for peace, for her grace, for the good of the world. She would comply, but only as long as she could in turn aim her dark power against him. And when he finally fell, drew his last breath, could stand no longer, another would take his place. That was their bargain, and Palutena had no way of changing it. As far as anyone was concerned, the cycle was continue.
But, even she hadn't considered that this little angel named Pit had a brother. It wasn't unheard of that their chosen servant had a sibling, and said siblings had either not known of their fate or deemed it impossible to do anything to stop it. They were taught the same as the servants: What they did was for the good of the world.
But this boy wouldn't be so quick to listen.
He'd been playing in the gardens with Pit, racing around the bushes and flowers as they looked for something to chase.
"Wait for me!" Pit had called, and he had stopped long enough to see the soldiers arrive, deliver an order to their parents, and immediately capture the brown-haired angel. He'd asked them time and time again where they were going with his brother, but they'd ignored him and taken Pit away with no explanation. It wasn't until their mother had calmed down enough that she had, through her sobs, told him that Pit had been chosen as a servant of the goddesses. He would fulfill an important role that would protect the world they lived in and allow peace to continue to reign.
But he knew there was something more to the story that he wasn't being told. As he'd grown older, he'd heard whispers of those servants, the rumors of what they endured in their positions, their notoriously short life spans. And all the while, he'd fought against everyone and everything that tried to hold him back, to tell him he must comply with the goddesses, to behave himself, to conform to everything he was meant to. He was to forget his brother, act like he'd never existed, live his life as if he were an only child.
He didn't listen, and his actions bore their consequences. He'd been branded an outcast, all but cursed with dark wings and red eyes that seemed to fit naturally with his black hair. Those around him teased him with a nickname meaning "dark" or "black."
"Kuro!" they jeered, perhaps a pun on his name, perhaps just coincidence. He didn't care, and eventually just took the name as his own. If that's what the world saw him as, then so be it.
Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he took up a pair of short swords and packed lightly as he set out, not caring what he would encounter or what threats to his life he would face. Pit was out there somewhere in the world he was supposedly protecting, and Kuro promised he would find him. He looked up to the sunlit, nearly cloudless sky above him as he crossed the fields, alone save his shadow cast on the grass. His dark wings rustled in the breeze as he wandered on, hoping that someone, somewhere, would be able to tell him where to find this goddess of darkness.
And when he found her, he would end her without a second thought.
He stopped and looked up once again, hoping, praying, that he wasn't too late, that he would find his brother alive. He stopped and took a deep breath.
"Wait for me," he mumbled, and his gaze trailed to what appeared to be a town in the distance, a castle of some sort jutting up from the surrounding homes and villages. He smirked a bit. Perhaps the goddess of nature would be kind enough to inform him of the whereabouts of his target, the fate of his twin, and how he could stop it. His swords hung in a sheath on his hip, their weight informing him of just what it would take to save a doomed servant from his fate.
