99 — THE THUNDER CLAWS
Captain Geist appeared at the ruins in her overcoat and half of the Silver Ophiuchus Cloth, borrowed from her companion Shaina. She climbed down from the fallen column and took Shun's body in her arms, noting the cuts he had on his neck, face and legs. His eyes were still raw with pain, as the music that had taken his senses ended, the boy's injuries brought him great distress. Geist looked from the boy to the ground and noticed the intact parts of the Andromeda Cloth strewn across the floor in a curious way.
"Andromeda." called Geist for the boy.
"Geist?" he was surprised, opening his eyes. "Why are you here? What happened to Seiya? And June?"
"They're all fine, Andromeda." she replied seriously. "Why did you let yourself be hurt so bad, Shun?"
He did not answer.
"Did you take off your own Cloth? What were you doing?"
"My Chains are useless against this God Warrior. They do not detect any threat coming from him and stay still. They won't attack him."
Geist pondered that information and then took a long look at the violinist who, calm and serene, waited for the rescue to be completed.
"That doesn't explain why you also let it go of your Rolling Defense, Andromeda." she said again to the boy.
"I don't think this God Warrior really wants to kill me." Geist looked again at Míme's serene face.
"Your condition seems to suggest otherwise, Andromeda. Come on, sit here and rest."
She left Shun's body leaning against a destroyed wall and only then did she turn to face that God Warrior who had been patiently waiting until then. Upon her banishment from the Sanctuary, Geist devoted herself to a custom she had acquired when she was very young: the books. Then she realized that the figure before her brought her back to some famous stories from the North. Not only that, she made a point of glancing every inch of that serene figure before her.
"I need your Odin Sapphire." said Geist only.
"That's the same speech as Andromeda. Get away from here, take him with you or you will meet the same fate as him."
Míme threw a threat into the air and Geist seemed to absorb his words, though she kept her dark eyes hard on the God Warrior. She then slowly raised her guard and without another word being exchanged, Míme realized that another fight would start again.
The God Warrior closed his eyes and brought his violin bow to the strings, again playing his wonderful requiem that filled Geist's chest with a deep sadness and wonder. The wonderful and soulful piece played in the waltz movement in a minor key was of a very rare sensibility, to the point that Geist considered it a terrible waste that such a talented violinist should let himself be reduced to acting like a warrior, not realizing that she was herself of a similar class.
But if her ears were delighted with the music, Geist clearly noted how images of Míme playing in the most diverse distances and poses spread through the ruins, all the duplicates playing that beautiful violin to his ears.
"Don't listen to the music!" Shun warned, behind her.
That was a meaningless appeal, for Geist wanted to hear the music; the beauty of the melody that invaded her ears was such that she had never heard it and, therefore, it did not cross her mind to try to silence it. One by one, however, the duplicates of Míme disappeared and Andromeda despaired on Geist's back, but she really only had ears for that song.
And when Míme finally reduced himself to his only figure on Geist's back, Shun's calls were useless and he manifested his slashing beams that had done so much harm to the boy; only this time they didn't slice or hit anything at all, for Geist's backside also looked like a picture painted in the air.
"Thunder Claw!"
The violinist proved his own trick and was hit by Geist's electric claws, which sent him flying and falling forward in amazement because he had been hit.
"You picked the worst person to play an illusion like that, God Warrior."
Míme let out his grave smile and extended the palm of the hand that held the bow toward Geist.
"I confess to being very surprised to see that you also know how to cast illusions. I think I underestimated you, Athena Saint."
"I am Argo Geist."
"Argo, I get it. In that case, I'll finish you off without making us waste our time with tricks."
The beams from Míme's palm split at the speed of light and tore the distance between the two, striking Geist decisively and slashing what was left of her beautiful Athena overcoat. She fell violently against columns scattered in the ruin, feeling immense pains in her body; now she understood Shun's drama better, as well as the dimension of that God Warrior's power.
"It's impressive, your blow is much faster and more powerful when used this way. You wouldn't need to hide in those images and all that spectacle if you wanted to end your battles faster."
"I said I'd give Andromeda a chance to go back where he came from."
"I don't think that's it." said Geist. "When Andromeda told me that the Chains didn't detect any threat from you, I didn't understand what he meant, but now I get it. You really have no desire to kill us. The fact that you hide your power in images and in your music is proof of that."
Míme withdrew his outstretched arm and looked uncomfortable with it, locking his eyes.
"You easily believed this pointless Andromeda drama that I have no desire to kill."
"Am I wrong?"
"Profoundly. And the boy's shredded body should be proof enough of that."
"He still lives." replied Geist.
"So allow me to tell you exactly who I am and then you will tell me where my desire is."
Geist fell silent to hear that deep voice in a terrible confession.
"These fists that you insist on believing that carries no intention to kill are also the ones that took my own father's life."
"A father?" asked Geist curiously.
And the beams that had once slain one of Asgard's brightest warriors again attacked Geist, causing her to try to dodge, but again she was blasted away. Again the Silver Saint rose to her feet and her hard eyes again fell on Míme; the Argo Saint walked through the snow towards the God Warrior, who could tell in her expressionless eyes that there was something curious in her face.
"Now I see it clearly." she began. "Tell me, God Warrior… what did you offer Grim?"
For the first time, Míme's face changed curiously and he looked at Geist with surprised eyes and a small smile on his face. It was as if someone in front of him was slowly going crazy and maybe the force of his blows was really slowly undermining his opponent's ability to talk things out.
"I see you know the stories of the North." he replied simply.
"I know many stories, God Warrior."
"Míme." he said then. "I am Benetnasch Míme, the star Eta."
"Míme." repeated Geist. "Like I said, I know a lot of stories. Among them is your story, Benetnasch Míme."
"My story?" he asked, still surprised. "Do you think just knowing an ancient legend like Grim's makes you an expert in my life?"
"I'm not talking about the legend of Grim." Geist approached. "But I've been watching you very closely since I got here and we started fighting. Things that sometimes slip away from an ordinary person."
"I am flattered." thanked Míme, with a touch of mockery.
"Your violin, for example." and at the mention of the instrument, Míme's eyes narrowed as if trying to understand where she was trying to get. "It is not an instrument in perfect condition, quite the opposite. It has clear signs of wear and tear and even rebuilds. I imagine it is a very precious instrument for you."
Míme didn't respond.
"I imagine it must have been destroyed at some point in your life. But, important as it was, you could never part with it. Then you rebuilt it, piece by piece, until it was able to sing this beautiful melody that touches the bottom of our heart time and time again."
Geist stared at her for a long time.
"Tell me, Míme. Was this the father you claimed to have killed the person responsible for the destruction of your violin?"
Míme took a deep breath, but remained silent.
"I'm sure it was, but even for a passionate violinist, that wouldn't be enough of a reason to kill someone. Let alone your own father."
"Do you really want to know, Argo?"
"I want to know what you have left for Grim, Benetnasch Míme?" she made it very hard for him.
"Do you want to know why I killed my father?" Míme deflected.
Geist then fell silent and heard Míme's deep voice tell his tragic story.
"My father was a man named Folker, the most respected warrior in all of Asgard. Worshiped from Lower-Asgard to the marble halls of Valhalla." he began and, without adding any note of sadness, continued. "But I was never loved as a child. And he lived in fear of his shadow. Loneliness seemed to be my only companion."
And then he plucked the lower strings of the violin.
"Loneliness and the violin were my only companions. But my father had other plans for me. He wanted me to be a warrior like him."
"And then he destroyed your violin to keep away you from music."
Míme fell silent, confirming Geist's suspicion, but kept talking.
"A broken instrument can be repaired and sing again. But the soul of a man..."
"What happened, Míme?"
"That light technique that hurt you is my father's only gift to me. He forced me to train it night after night, day after day. And when I finally managed to reproduce it to perfection, after a lot of training, that's when I discovered something terrible." said Míme gravely. "That night I went happily into his office to tell him that I had made it, I was also a warrior like him. But my father wasn't there, the room was empty. And on top of a bookcase, I found an amulet. And on this amulet, the photo of two strangers next to a child whose eyes were the same as mine."
"Your eyes?" asked Geist. "So that child was you."
"That's what my father said immediately when he appeared in the study room to see me with the amulet in my hands. His words still echoes in my head: 'This child is you.'" Míme recalled. "'And those beside you are your real parents.'"
Shun also listened to Míme's painful report, as if trying to understand all the sadness in his music, in his eyes and in his voice.
"'And I was the one who took their lives.'" continued Míme, to Shun and Geist's amazement. "The one who didn't love me had actually killed my real parents. And he told me like someone announcing any supper."
The Athena Saints swallowed hard.
"It is said that Asgard got into a stalemate with a neighboring state and my father was assigned from Valhalla to resolve the situation on a merciless expedition. He faced a warrior fighting alongside his wife and mercilessly defeated them in battle, killing them both." Míme paused before finishing. "My real parents."
"Míme..." stammered Shun.
"For inside the hovel where they lived, after killing husband and wife, Folker found himself surprised by a crying child."
"You." completed Geist.
"He brought me back only to assuage his own conscience and enjoy his reputation as an honorable warrior among those who believed his word. Never loved me. And I would have been so much happier if I had died with my real parents."
If Shun's life had been terrible, and without a doubt it had been, as were the mysteries behind Geist, this was a tragic tale to match the sadness of the snow that kept falling, however light.
"The day I knew about that was the day I killed Folker," he said very calmly. "It was the day I became a parricide. Since then my hatred has not disappeared. I put my hate in my fist and I have lived only in war since that day."
The God Warrior finally faced the two who listeneed him tell his story.
"Do you still think I have no intention of killing?"
Geist, however, took a deep breath and placed herself in front of Míme.
"I told you I knew your story, for it is the story of my life, Míme."
"What?"
In Geist's mind were always the images of the little ship setting sail, the slap she'd taken from her father on the quayside, the serious face of the midshipman who had come to bring her the news, and the pieces of her father's little ship that had washed up overboard. Geist's story was also very painful and those images that sometimes tormented her mind, at that moment appeared with great force.
"I also hated my father for many years. I felt dry inside. Just like you, Míme."
"That's nonsense."
"Tell me, Míme, what did you offer Grim?"
"Again with this?" he asked. "If you know the story so well, you know it's just a myth."
"The Grim is a nature spirit that has the power to enhance and make one's art soar to the heavens for anyone who meets his hunger. If an artist throws him a piece of meat every day, he will at least teach him to tune his instrument in an impossible way, or learn how to write the most simple verses of a poem. But if an artist trusts the Grim with something deep in his soul, he can learn secrets that are only meant for the gods, and his music will be as beautiful as it is magical." said Geist, remembering the many tales of the North that had amazed her when she had taken refuge in books when she found herself an orphan.
Míme's eyes were deep inside Geist's.
"My guess is that, to play a violin so old and patched up with that sensitivity and dexterity, to produce such a beautiful melody, you must have offered the troll something deep within your soul."
"And what would that be, Athena Saint?"
"Your will to kill, isn't it?"
Míme waited a few seconds before answering.
"You're delusional."
"You offered your will to kill, for deep down you were bitterly sorry for hurting your father and would never want to harm anyone again."
"Is that what happened to you, Argo Saint?"
"Exactly." she confirmed dryly. "Now let me tell you my story. My father, one night, set out to the sea sailing a boat with a broken sailmast. I knew that then, for I had sailed that very same boat days before in secret. For he wanted me far from the loneliness of the sea and prohibited me from getting close to the harbor. And afraid that he would know that I had disobeyed him, I have not told him that I have broken the sailmast of his boat, how could I? He would have tore me to pieces not just for doing something behind his back, but putting myself in danger by sailing alone andbroking the mast of his boat. I kept silent. And that night that he decided to sail, I ran to the harbor screaming and asking him not to go, but without the courage to say the reasons. And so my father slapped me in the face, leaving me on the docks waiting for him. That night I hated my father for hurting me, for not letting me do whatever I wanted, which was to follow his steps. I cried alone and waited for him on the harbor. A storm struck violently that night and the next day some sailores told me that the boat had sunk and his body was not found, nor it would be forever. And then I hated him more than ever, for not listening to me, but deep down, I hated myself for I have broken the mast which caused him to be stranded on the storm. I hated myself for not having the courage to tell him the truth that could have saved his life. It was my fault."
"I pierced my father's heart with my own fist." Míme reiterated.
"The guilt always bears the same size. Enormous as the size of hate. And that of love."
"I do not love anyone."
"Then why did you give up your will to kill?" asked Geist. "You took refuge in the music of your violin and I in the verses of my books. Our only difference is that I was taken in by a band of pirates while you walked away from all that was alive."
"We have absolutely nothing in common, Argo Saint. I would kill Folker every day. And I would kill him if he was in front of me right now."
"You lie. For our guilt only exists because deep down we love our parents. It took the spell of the seas for me to get in touch with that truth inside me. And seeing how the hate manifests itself in your fist and your words, I'm sure it's the same with you."
"You're mad! I'm going to kill you right here so you'll never doubt me again."
"I'll show you, Benetnasch Míme."
Geist glowed her silver cosmos around her and then raised her right arm from which silver ink seemed to invert the colors of reality. Her voice sounded brilliant echoing through all the stones of ruin.
"Argonautica!"
The light that streaked through the snow blinded Míme and threw him into his own heart and old repressed memories.
Valhalla Palace was huge and had entrances and exits in all directions, though always very well guarded; Alberich insisted on taking the lower stairs to the Forbidden Forest where the oldest trunks of Asgard stood. A dark and deep forest that he knew very well, for it was the custom of his old relatives to have the most intense connection with nature; while he inherited the strong name Alberich from Asgard's most skilled craftsmen, former miners and engineers, on his mother's side, Alberich had an extensive lineage of forest dwellers.
And the branches and leaves of this ancient forest were like his eyes and arms, so that he had such a connection with that place that he would have known the invasion of anyone. He was smart, for he knew that the invasion would hardly take place through the main passage, so there would be those who, very foolish, would believe that it would be easier to reach the Palace or even Surtr Cave through the forest territory.
And indeed, Alberich saw a figure running through the trunks of the place and observed it from a distance, following it from afar, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. He finally descended to the level of the running person, bent a fat log to the left to surprise the figure, but saw that the silhouette was gone. A lot of snow fell on his head, rushing from the branches above, and when Alberich looked up, he found himself attacked by a figure in the darkness.
He dodged a lot of blows, but he recoiled as best he could and then saw the figure start running again through the forest.
"You're not getting anywhere!" he announced, going hunting.
He finally stopped following her through the snow and leapt through the branches above their heads, finally putting himself in front of the invader.
"I won't let you go from here." Alberich announced. "You must be one of the Athena Saints who invaded this country. Tell me your name."
"My name doesn't matter."
Alberich let out a derisive laugh and looked the woman in front of him from head to toe.
"Half Armor, a hood hiding an artificially dyed hair, sharp claws, and eye paint. You're the Sanctuary's Master at Arms, Shaina, aren't you?"
"How do you know who I am?" she scolded, and Alberich kept the smile on his face.
"Your bad luck was to be found by the brightest brain in Asgard. I am Alberich, the God Warrior of Megrez, Delta Star."
"Alberich?" Shaina repeated. "In that case, I have absolutely nothing to do with you. Give me your Sapphire and get out of my sight."
"My… Sapphire?" he asked curiously.
"You heard it loud and clear." she confirmed, taking the other Odin Sapphire that she had taken from Seiya from her clothes. "Give me the precious stone that protects you and I will let you live, God Warrior."
"How interesting." he calculated, walking around Shaina. "And if I refuse, what will you do?"
"I'll take you down you here and take the Sapphire just the same."
"I would like to see that happening."
Alberich raised his guard and watched as Shaina advanced toward him, swift as a snake's lunge; and in truth there was no fight between the two, as Shaina proceeded to repeatedly dodge her opponent and hit him with her electrified fist, her spin fly, her armbar, and the throw that threw Alberich into the trees he so loved.
Leaning against the log, he watched as lightning seemed to strike Shaina many steps ahead, causing her to disappear only to reappear at his left side with a silver aura so huge that Alberich felt fear for his life. Her high-pitched voice echoed with fury and fire in his eyes:
"Come on, Cobra! Thunder Claws!"
The God Warrior was enveloped by terrible shocks, so powerful that they lifted him slightly off the ground as he was hit by Shaina's technique. Falling at last defeated at the feet of the Silver Saint, the Sanctuary's Master-at-Arms looked furious at the world. Alberich found her in her worst
The heart beating louder than the sad notes of the violin.
Daddy.
His own voice repeated in his head since he was a boy. Always calling for a father. The thick, warm hand of someone who wipes away his fever with a damp cloth.
Are you okay, my son?
A child suffering terribly from a fever too high for a normal cold. The snowy pines of an icy night whipped by the biting winds of Asgard. The warm arms of a father who carried him through the coldest night of the year where he could be better taken care of. To the greatest healer in Asgard, the priest who attended the high court of Asgard in the Hall of Eir, Master Andreas, to take care of the boy's fever.
"I understand." said Míme, standing in front of Geist. "Is that the nature of your technique? To cast illusions, just like you did earlier. But just as you couldn't be fooled by my magic, I won't fall for your trick either."
The relieved smile of the child on his lap with his father's hand in the crib.
"This is no illusion, Míme." said Geist. "I can only control images and bend it to my will, because my Cosmo is deeply rooted in reality, thanks to the Argo Constellation. It is said that Argo was given by Athena to Jason and the ship was able to find its way wherever it was. For this is the way of your heart, Míme. This is not an illusion, but a real memory that was hiding inside you."
Míme was startled for the first time, and when he let his eyes open in surprise, the memory came all at once thanks to the Silver Saint's devastating technique.
"Forgive me, Míme." his father's voice spoke to him.
His youthful fist through Folker's chest. His father's blood on his fists, his father's arms around his shoulders. And on Folker's face tears of deep sadness.
"Folker lied to you!" once accused a drunker at the tavern in Lower-Asgard downtown, being restrained by his cronies for cursing an ancient hero. "Folker loved you, Míme! Folker loved you!"
And then the drunkman was escorted out of the bar by the peers, while Míme resumed his playful aria for the night owls' hardship. The words that echoed in his chest along with the laughter of the others. That night Míme let himself be carried away by sadness and the bar swallowed his mind with so many friends who paid him anything to keep him away from the cold, without imagining that it would also erase the most important conversation of his life from his mind.
"You are the son of Folker." said someone, without getting any response from the artist. "I'm very sorry." he continued, apparently not knowing the story.
And he wouldn't even know because he was a foreigner, which Míme hadn't noticed at the time, but then he saw clearly inside that Silver Saint technique.
"I remember it like it was yesterday." the old man began, putting his cap on the counter where Míme lay, torn between conscience and sadness. "I was the one who brought you in my wagon back to Asgard when you were just a baby. I saw how it all happened. I'm sorry, son. Your father was a great man."
"He killed them…" said the boy curled up on the counter.
"Yes, but only because he couldn't help it. Your father refused to carry out his terrible mission of killing that simple couple in the countryside, and that I saw with my own eyes. But then those proud and courageous warriors attacked your father in the name of their land, and only then did the mighty Folker found himself in a position where he needed to defend himself. The result was terrible, but it couldn't be otherwise. Folker lived. That couple dropped dead as were all you father's enemies. But then a sharp cry came from the little house those two lived in, and I saw despair in Folker's eyes, such as I had never seen him, such as never had an enemy caused him such anguish."
"It's a lie." protested Míme, who was watching the scene like a regular spectator of this tavern, witnessing that conversation of many years ago between a foreigner and a younger version of himself.
He was not heard, for that was a memory and he was not there. It was the memory that was unfolding in his mind.
"He buried those parents in the snow and took their newborn child alive, so he would always remember that tragedy and vow never to leave Asgard to kill ever again, he would live to defend his land, but never to carry out those orders anymore. For that he went on heated discussions on taverns and even on Valhalla with the other councilors. That night I brought you two to the border where I used to live, but you got really, really sick for the night. A storm has befallen Asgard, but your father knew you would die if you weren't taken care of urgently."
The old man stopped talking, as if embarrassed, and the young Míme finally looked up at him with half-closed eyes.
"I couldn't take him, for I was afraid we'd both die on the crossing. But finding you here today, I'm sure once again Folker beat the storm, as he beat everyone, and took you to be taken care of. He told me he would do it even if he died trying. Even if it cost his life." Míme cried that night, but he never remembered those tears again. "I'm sorry, son."
So the old man paid his bill to the tavern keeper and left him to his grief.
"No, that's a lie! That's a lie!" Míme despaired before Geist, falling to his knees in the snow of ruin. "Enough, enough! I can't believe… that can't be true."
"That's right, Míme. You just believed a lie that you hated your father because you were afraid to face the guilt you feel for killing him." and then Geist spoke seriously. "But the truth is, just like me, you still love your father. In the depths of your heart, and that was why you abandoned the will to kill in Grim's temple. So that you never feel that pain again, Míme."
"No, that's impossible, it's impossible. How could I love a father who never loved me, never hugged me!?"
"He was afraid, Míme."
"Afraid?" asked Míme, and his voice could have been that of when he was a baby, when he was a young boy lost in the tavern, or even as mature and old as at that moment.
"He was afraid that you loved him, because deep in that warrior chest was an enormous guilt as well."
Míme's chest gasped, his eyes wide as if the snow had frozen them in his amazement. His heartbeat silenced Geist's voice, the breath of the wind. And then finally it seemed to explode like a cathedral window.
His snow-white seidr covered his body from head to toe and he looked with hateful eyes at Geist; in the background, the Nebula Chains finally rose with the life of its own that it had pointed in Míme's direction. He finally seemed to burn like the threat he was.
"Míme is finally showing his feelings." Shun observed from afar to Geist.
And Míme's ever-serene eyes really now looked filled with hate.
"Do you hate me that much for making you see the truth?" asked Geist. "But even if by some miracle you manage to defeat me, that won't free you from the guilt you feel. You must know that very well, Míme."
Míme's eyes were confused between hate and surprise.
"I'll explain to you, Míme. It's not me or your father Folker the ones you hate. It's yourself."
"Shut up, Argo!"
"Míme, it's not too late. Your father hid his feelings from you, don't blame yourself for that."
"Then why did you show me? Why not let me live without knowing the whole truth? Why, Argo? Tell me!"
"Because you're right, Míme. There is no Grim or any offering you have made to play your violin like you do. The Nebula Chain never reacted to you, not because you lacked the will to kill." Geist looked and spoke with some sweetness to him. "But because you lacked the will to live."
Shun found himself surprised and before him he watched as Geist seemed to go as far as possible to bring out of a deep limbo the God Warrior's will to exist, who was to be an enemy of them. That was a good reason to fight, Andromeda thought.
"Perhaps the guilt will never leave your chest, for it certainly hasn't left mine. I still think about what I could have done differently that night, but that night I can't do anything. I cannot change it. But I can define what the next night will be like. And then the next one. And so on."
Míme closed her eyes sadly.
"Change tonight, Míme. Save Asgard. Free your land protected by your father from Poseidon's curse. Decide to live, Míme! Make your music not just a death requiem, but a joyous ride to inspire those who fight by your side. Do as your parents did and fight for a land even if it's against its own rulers!"
"I already told you to shut up!"
Míme's lights became even more powerful and Geist found herself flung many meters from where she was, hit completely by the God Warrior's beams. His hateful eyes took in the Silver Saint among the wreckage and he asked, confused.
"Why didn't you defend yourself?" he asked, noticing that Geist had let herself be hit.
"It doesn't matter that you burn with hate. Your seidr will not increase as much as you believe it would." said Geist, who understood better the energy that gave the God Warriors strength.
"Then try my String Requiem!" Míme threatened, taking the bow to the violin and sounding the beautiful melody that would hold Geist in its glittering, murderous strings.
But what the strings caught in the air as they rushed from the instrument was not Geist's body, but a column of ruin, for Geist had conjured an illusion with her image confusing the God Warrior's technique; she reappeared behind Míme and hit him with her Thunder Claws, knocking him away against a wall of ruin that fell on him.
Destroying his violin, finally.
Geist walked calmly towards the God Warrior, who was slowly getting to his feet.
"What do you have that I don't?" asked Míme.
"Your technique is impressive, Míme, and you could beat me, as you would beat Andromeda too. But now you're filled with hate for me, and I have hope on my side."
"Hope?"
"That's right." replied Geist. "This world is filled with evil and filled with endless pain and suffering. But I have valuable friends in this world with whom I share the time I live." she said, remembering Shaina, but also the dizzy faces that played in the taverns of Tortuga, far away.
She looked sideways at Shun and saw that her words resonated with him, for the boy was also full of bonds of friendship and compassion, which were even fighting at that moment in Asgard. Geist then remembered Captain Kaire looking up at the sky and guessing a cloud that reminded her of a huge whale, and how she found companionship in those young crew members of the Hope of Athena.
"I can believe that if we fight with hope, many dreams can come true. This has been the path I have taken across the seven seas and it has brought me here. Even you, who are like a mirror to me, Míme. And I'd really like you to understand that."
Míme suffered on the floor.
"I completely understand how you feel."
The God Warrior turned his body on the ground and finally saw before him his precious violin again in pieces; his expression turned to one of astonishment, for it reminded him of when his father had smashed it, stepping on the instrument as he protested to his son that he should be a warrior. And finally, another memory, hidden in his mind, occurred to him: when he opened his bedroom door one night and found the same violin, completely restored, on his desk. About how he'd cried and thanked Grim for having granted his deepest requests in his temple; but then it had not been Grim who had brought his instrument back, but his father who had restored it for his son.
"Folker, no, my father, is it really true that you fought hard for hope too?" Míme wondered within himself without anyone being able to hear.
And finally, with great difficulty, Míme rose to his feet. Geist watched the effort he made, while Shun approached, somewhat worried about the violinist. He was shaking from the injuries of the Thunder Claws, but he looked at Geist hard.
"Argo, I want to know if what you say is really true." he spoke with his suffering and grave voice and called for Shun. "Andromeda!"
The boy looked at Geist and then at the God Warrior and noticed, with amazement, that he took the Odin Sapphire from his Divine Robe and offered it to the Athena Saint without taking his eyes off Geist.
"Take it."
Shun approached and took the stone from the God Warrior's hands.
"Míme, you don't have to…"
"Back off, Andromeda." asked Geist from behind him, already guessing what the God Warrior was planning.
The God Warrior slowly took off part of his Divine Robe, leaving only his simple robes that he wore underneath, getting rid of his protections to Shun's despair, who found himself obliged to respect his will and walked away from him. with an icy stone in the chest of sadness. On the other side, Shun saw clearly how Geist also slowly removed the shredded overcoat and the few pieces of Silver Cloth that protected her.
Shun reflected that before him were two tragic stories; and as they were with tragedies, the ravages of sadness ended up staying with those who lingered. Who lived. And he knew that the God Warrior and the Silver Saint would face each other one last time and, at the end of that clash, only one of those enormous sadness would remain alive on that planet.
Their auras glowed brightly in that ruin and Shun noticed how Míme was now filled with an incredible fighting spirit, away from his hatred, away from that feeling that he couldn't kill or live. Geist jumped and Míme went for his fist; both hit each other in the air with great violence. But when they got back to the ground, Geist dropped to her knees while Míme remained standing.
"Very well, Argo, Andromeda." said Míme, his voice always grave and now serene again. "Maybe you can make your dreams come true."
"Míme?" asked Shun when he saw him from afar.
"Someday, if I can be born into a peaceful world, I would like to see you again, not as an enemy but as friends so I can play you another kind of requiem. But maybe this is also one of those wishes for Grim that will never be granted."
And fell to the ground.
Geist got up and walked over to the body, her face always serious and restrained; she took Míme into her arms, smoothed his blond hair away from his closed eyes, and hugged him tight. And in that ruin now taken by snow, Geist hummed the melody of the string requiem that Míme so well gifted that world.
ABOUT THE CHAPTER: A very difficult chapter to write, I didn't want Ikki to be part of the battle so as not to reduce Shun to a boy who is always helped by him (or her, on this AU), but also because Ikki had already fought Hagen. It was necessary to balance. Another reason was that this battle was a good moment to give Geist depth with a tragic past. The creation was very much like Mime in creating this debate about guilt for a terrible accident. Giving more prominence to Geist who, until then, has been a very accessory character to the story. Something had to be created for us to care about her.
NEXT CHAPTER: TREASURES OF AMETHYST
Alberich faces off against the Athena Saints, while June learns more about Asgard's past.