The Legend
of
The Cathedral of Angels Tears
Long, long ago... during the time of the Sacred Wars, a young man arose amidst the fighting. He was Destiny's chosen and God's beloved. He was no ordinary man, there was an aura of holiness surrounding him and his face was of the sweetest and comeliest kind. One day, he was told to go out to world for the Lord will give a message that will change the world.
The young man did so and went far and wide. Everywhere he went, he helped everybody who needed help. He cured the sick, comforted the sad, drove back evil. These he did unwittingly, he did not consider himself special; he was doing only what he could. The people however saw a man shining with the purest light. Twas he who would save the world from evil?
His renown spread throughout Rune-Midgard until it reached the ears of one Mystical Assasin. He heard of the young man and decided his powers would cause an imbalance in the world. In reality, he wanted the holy powers for himself.
The man continued on until one day he had reached wild fields where it had not rained for a long, long time. Through sorcery the Mystical Assasin had found out where he was and followed him there.
There was an ancient law back then. (And still true today.)Now, no one must spill the blood of the innocent or God-fearing or else the tides will turn against the murderer and a horrendous calamity shall befall him.
The Mystical Assasin knew this and with sacred powers bestowed upon the boy, no doubt, the effect of the law will be greater and immediate. But he was the Mystical Assasin; he already considered what would happen and prepared for it. Whilst the young man prayed, the Mystical Assasin snuck behind and...STRUCK him...with his enchanted katar.
The young man fell but no blood was spilled. He laid there, unscathed, not a mark on his body. It was if he was sleeping soundly. But he was dead, the Mystical Assasin held in the palm of his hand a floating jewel, shining brighter than the sun. It was the divine powers of the boy, gathered and bound. He covered his eyes from the brilliance of the jewel but he was pleased.
But retribution came nonetheless. A small, pink creature fell from the sky. (Yes, a Poring!) It bounced toward the Mystical Assasin and swallowed the jewel. It seemed to shine like the young man before. (Yes, yes—it became a Holy Poring. Do you guys want to finish the story or not? I thought so)
He was shocked but none more so when from out of nowhere, another man with a sword came running along the fields. He gave a happy (very, very goofy one, too.) smile when he saw the monster. He raised his sword, and before the Mystical Assasin could stop him, struck down the creature. He looked around for the droppings of the monster but found none. His bewilderment turned to fright when he saw his sword began to change a larger, hideous black sword. He fell down and screamed as if in pain. Covered in inexplicable wounds and blood, the man struggled to stand,howled and ran like a madman.
The Mystical Assasin disappeared. Maybe he followed the man. Perhaps he gave up and went for another bounty. The young man's body lay there, still looking asleep. (Awwwww. Yes, yes I know but I'm getting near the ending.)
A light came down on him and a young girl appeared by his side. She tried to wake him up. She lifted his head and pleaded to him. It was time to go home. But it was useless. Along with his powers, the Assasin had taken his soul. The angel was stunned with realization; she laid her head on his shoulder, tears trickling down her cheeks.
She had loved him. She watched him day after day, growing to love him. Now, when she thought they'd be together forever, they took his soul. She cried and her brothers and sisters came. They heard her anguish and saw the young man. The sky grew dark as they began to cry too. Rain came down hard as it refreshed the thirsty land. It washed over them, the angel and the young man. The angels' tears gave the earth new life.
A holy warrior, who was a few days behind following the destined boy, arrived to see the angel and hear their cries. He stood silent, shock and guilt filling him for not being able to prevent the young man's senseless death . When the rain had cleared, the holy warrior gazed in wonder; instead of yellow he saw green. And in the place of the young man's body, a tiny jewel. He picked it up and saw it was filled with liquid.
It must be, the first tear shed. And in his last prayer, he had been asking for rebirth of the earth.
The sun shone on the fields, where plants and trees had grown again. The holy warrior came scrambling up a large hill, an iron staff with a giant cross on top, in his hand. He smiled and took a deep breath of fresh air. He gazed upon the new city that was being built.
"'That is where the city is being built. And here'"— He looked around and pierced the ground with his staff.
"'is where I shall build the cathedral!'"
He placed the jewel inside the cathedral that he built and guarded it all his life. He trained those who would take his place and look after the chapel. So a long line of priests and priestesses guarded the legend and strove to emulate the destined one. They welcomed all who were weary in body and spirit. They were sworn to live a life of peace but should evil emerge, they should use the holy powers bestowed to overcome evil. The holy warrior never wanted the legend to be forgotten...
He paused as he closed the book.
"That is why...he named the cathedral, "The Cathedral of Angels Tears."
Matthew looked around only to see his kids all asleep. He shook his head and sighed affably patting each sleepy head good night. He halted to see he made a mistake. A little one is still awake. She sat up in her wooden bed, her eyes shining as she looked up at him.
"Did you like the story?" He asked as he sat down beside her. She nodded ardently. He grinned and tousled her blond head.
"Good. Sleep tight now."
He tucked her in and patted her head. His crimson robe flew behind him as he headed through the door. She clutched the sheets tighter her face. She hoped he won't see her pink face but she had to get his attention.
"Um..."
He stopped in mid-stride.
"Yes?"
"Good night, Father Matthew."
He smiled tenderly as he blew out the candle.
"Good night, Malachuchi."
Malas was again in her usual spot. She leaned back and let innumerable people pass her gaze. Strangely, a certain feeling told her to forgo her usual attire so she was wearing a breezy cotton shirt. It was evening; it was strange why she would want to dress like that. Her wandering thoughts paused as she spotted a band of travelers stopping from across the street. They seemed to be checking out a stall. They'll be there for awhile. She assessed them one by one.
A handsome blond acolyte on the front. Hands off, not touching. Blond girl with shaggy hair and a Poring. No weapons, no money. Easy pickin but nothing to pick out of. Merchant, brown hair covering one eye. Looks distracted and loaded too but the stuff's too heavy and don't have the time. Swordie, female. Looks cool and tough, stay away from her. Blue-haired and long brown haired novices bringing up the rear. Both look packed up. No weapons. Bingo.
Having picked her target she decided on her approach. Quick steal won't work here. She needed to be nice and slow. She pushed people aside as she casually walked over to their side. Just as she was gonna reach for the brown haired's backpack, they began moving.
Damn. But it was a minor setback. She strolled with them, feigning the air of a tourist. Her dagger in her hand, she inched it towards the novice's backpack...
"Hey!"
A hand had seized Malas' wayward arm. Panic surged through her body. A look confirmed it. The shaggy blond had caught her! How could she...Malas was sure she wasn't there before.
"Thief!" she accused Malas.
"Nice work, Shari." The swordsgirl came up to them. Her hair reached to her waist and was few shades closer to being white. She gave them both an appraising look. "After all, takes one to know one."
"Shut up, royal pain," Shari mumbled. The Swordie seized the other arm of Malas and pulled it up. Malas gave a cry of pain. The people gave no notice except for a few who were mildly interested.
"It's Royale," she said coldly. "Are you all right, D? Luna?"
Malas could now distinguish that the brown haired one was actually a girl. She could've sworn it was a boy wearing the pants and clothes. The blue haired one was definitely a girl, evident by her clothes. Royale pulled her a little higher Malas bit through the pain.
"I'm okay, Royale." answered Luna, the blue haired girl. "I'm not sure about D..."
"D!" The blonde acolyte came running towards her. The merchant tried to follow as fast as possible.
As he began fussing over the girl, Malas felt a twinge of odd recognition. Royale gripped tighter, making her squirm.
"Now, what's this about?" demanded the acolyte.
"Well, this thief..." began Shari but she went unnoticed because he was now staring at the girl. Recognition flashed on his face. He smiled with sincere pleasure.
"Malachuchi! It's you! What're you doing here?"
Royale's confident voice faltered. "You know each other?"
"No! My—name —is –Malas!" she screamed, attempting to kick Royale with each word.
"But you're Malachuchi! Don't you remember me? Besides why are you here? Has Father Matthew sent you here? How is everything back there? How is Father Matthew?" he asked, curiosity making him forget to slow down.
"NO!" She managed to kick Royale hard in stomach, making her drop Malas. She darted as fast as she could towards the direction where they came from. It was too much seeing him again. He'd always been kind to her but...
Angel...Black Angel Wings had been an acolyte under Fr. Matthew. Angel. Angels' tears. Legend of the Cathedral. Everything reminded her about Matthew. She—she can't stand to remember what she'd lost!
"Angel..." D moved closer to the acolyte. Angel looked at her concerned eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Yeah, Angel, some of your friends are whacked!" commented Shari.
"Like you?" Royale retorted.
"You trying to pick a fight, huh, royal pain!" As the two squabbled, Angel took the chance to whisper to D, "I'm afraid so, D."
Malas gasped for breath. She had been running for half an hour and ended up in another dark alley. If she could run away from her troubles. But she already tried that, didn't she? She looked up into the dark, starry night. At least she was safe for now.
Malas abruptly felt a hand clamp down on her mouth, muffling her screams. She was heaved in closer to her attacker's body. She struggled; kicking like she did to Royale but cold steel to her neck suddenly changed her mind.
"You gave me a hard time tracking you. Thief..." A male voice whispered frostily.
"And now that I got you..." The cold point lightly traced the curve of her neck. Malas muffled screams grew stronger, more desperate. "You'll get exactly what you deserve."
Whew! To think this was supposed to be a one shot.