This story takes place during volume 14 of the manga, narrated through Luchist's eyes. It contains spoilers if you haven't read up until that part yet. I have tagged this for violence as it depicts a battle in the tournament.
Little Bird
The preliminary round of battles had been published, and in every corner one could hear the rumors, the whispers, and the lively speculations of those that had gathered on the island. The 'three factions' of the tournament, all led by shamans from the sacred class and quickly gaining a following, dividing audiences and contestants alike: the Gandhara, the X-Laws and Hao.
Most of the shamans who had enrolled in the fight fancied themselves the next king or queen. Each confident in how special they thought they were, how different and worthy to rule them all. In reality, they all sported the same tragic stories about loss and revenge, or the uplifting ones about finding peace and overcoming obstacles; but in the end they were all mundane, all selfish, all the same. Some were smart enough to join one of the factions, some kept fighting on their own, like the fools they were.
Luchist heard all of these rumors by doing something as simple as picking a shot of espresso in the morning; in a coffee shop that while in the uninhabited island of Tokyo, was oddly similar to any other store he had seen at the Patch Village. Since early, the streets and stores were busy, bustling with people getting ready to watch what many considered the real first stage of the Shaman Fight.
The very first battle was Team Earth's, and his master couldn't be more pleased; he said to them: be sure to give the crowd a show . He didn't command them to win, to kill, or to spread the message about his cause, just to entertain; flattered by Hao's trust, Peyote and the BoZ brothers were probably still sleeping.
Not Luchist. He was up since the crack of dawn, anticipation and uncertainty keeping him from bed, but not about his comrades. No, he worried about someone who had probably forgotten him already, someone who had no recollection of the nights he checked under the bed for monsters, or smuggled a sweet treat before dinner. A child that didn't exist anymore as he wished she had stayed forever.
The second battle was probably the most anticipated match of the day, Team X-1 vs. The Niles. The 'soldiers in white' had the most mysterious leader of them all, after all. People talked about a holy virgin, a faceless maiden of great power, a prophet doing the Lord's work.
Luchist just called her little bird.
Taking a sip from the tiny cup, he leaned back on the chair and let his mind take him away from the crowd and the whispering, away from the humid air of the island as a fond memory of his family took over his thoughts. One does not know he is in the good old days until it's too late, until there's no more battles against hair ties or tiny shoe prints on the otherwise pristine kitchen floor.
The day they adopted Jeanne seemed both dusty, buried in the years that had gone by, and vivid as the smell of the freshly poured coffee in front of him. The mission was to raise a shaman strong enough to defeat Hao, to become king, a man-made god. A fraud, of sorts, but a righteous one, that would create the better world the X-Laws believed in. And they found that shaman in an orphan, a little girl from a monastery in Mont Saint-Michel.
Marco and him did their best to raise her as the next savior, and with time Jeanne became just that: a moral compass that truly believed herself the chosen one, the living sigil of the X-Laws. But Luchist didn't like to think of that Jeanne, he chose to remember the wide eyed kid they met at the orphanage, the one that would hide behind Marco at the sight of strangers, and lick her fingers at the table when she thought they weren't looking. He remembered the little girl that was so quiet and shy, her voice resembled the chirp of a songbird.
"Would you like another espresso, sir? Maybe a scone?"
Luchist declined the waiter's offer politely, instead wiping his mouth with a napkin and preparing to leave the café. He stood up, buttoning the jacket of his dark suit before he began the stroll back to the contestants' villas, from where all of Hao's people, now his people, would escort Team Earth to the arena. It was time for the opening battle.
The group sat together in a less crowded area of the stadium, and after the opening speech from the Patch the battle began. Peyote took the master's request very seriously, and gave quite a show to the audience against team the Ren; a show Luchist had little to no interest in. Instead of the arena, his eyes wandered over the crowd, scouting for a set of familiar uniforms; Marco had recruited quite a number of people, people he wasn't familiar with and a particularly young new soldier, far too young to be in that suicide mission.
Giving up on the tiresome task that was to look for a few faces in the sea of the crowd, he tried to enjoy whatever was left of Peyote's battle, but he couldn't concentrate. Would Marco let Jeanne fight? Years ago, they had agreed to make an exceptional warrior out of her, but knowing what they did now, how fearsome the competition was and how sure Hao was to win this fight, would he be so reckless? Would he set her and all of these people out to die?
Unless the rumors about Jeanne's power were true. Unless Marco had truly found a way to make this ordinary child into a sacred class shaman, one worthy of making it to the finale and impersonating a messiah… but how?
"I am very curious too,'' Hao said with a peaceful smile, his eyes set on the battlefield.
As used to it as he was by then, Hao's voice still came as a surprise. Luchist's worries had to be so strong he had heard them on top of the cheering and the gasps of the crowd, but he couldn't help it. His curiosity went beyond technicalities, these people were dear to him. Even when he was sitting to Hao's right. Even if to them he was just a traitor.
The battle came to an end, Peyote lost and the field was being prepared for the next match; it was then that he spotted them, the soldiers in white. They marched militarily to the seats at the very top of the venue, across from where they were sitting. They all stood in the same row and unrolled a giant banner that could be seen from all over the stadium, heavy, and falling over the empty chairs with its red letters: X-Laws.
"Was that really necessary?" Mathilda said after an exasperated sigh, "There is a letter board right there! "
Luchist let out a quiet chuckle, one that got lost in the giggles and cackles of Hao's people. The stadium had screens that displayed the teams and contestants' names, if the Patch Officer was not enough of an introduction. Announcing their presence that way was beyond unnecessary, but if they knew Marco the way he did, they wouldn't be surprised at something as flamboyant as an industrial sized flag. The thought that he hadn't changed was both reassuring and nerve wracking for the former priest, on the one hand, he was still trying to save the world, but on the other, he was still set on doing it all wrong.
Officer Radim came back to announce the second match of the day, and Luchist couldn't tell if the stadium went suddenly quiet as the teams appeared in the arena, or if the loud thump of his heart made it impossible for him to hear anything else. Team X-1, at least according to the screens, consisted of Jeanne, Marco and the young boy, but what they had presented instead of her was a puzzling metal statue. It looked heavy and ancient, out of place next to the solemnity of the soldiers carrying it to the field.
The match hadn't even begun and Marco had insulted team the Niles already, when they, mirroring the thoughts of the rest of the venue, questioned the whereabouts of their leader. With a sigh Luchist confirmed he was still the loud and moody child that was left at the church, even if now he was Captain of the X-Laws. He stood tall, proud and... angry at the arena, so much he had to step down and let the young recruit take over the fight.
The boy was giving the Niles a good battle, but Luchist noted a particular detail: he wasn't fighting with an angel. His spirit was accurate and strong, but it spoke volumes that he hadn't been assigned one of the organization's guardians. As interesting as the oversoul technique was, his eyes kept forcing him to look at the statue. It seemed ridiculous that Jeanne could be inside, why would she? Marco's theatrics aside, hiding their symbol from the world couldn't be doing the X-Laws any favors recruiting the masses, there had to be a reason.
He was pondering the options when in a turn of events, the young soldier's spirit decided not to listen to him, just when the time for the final blow came. But what shook the crowd, what made the arena go silent was a voice coming from inside the metal box, commanding Lyserg to stop and step down.
A big wave of energy roamed the stadium when the device was brought on stage, whoever was inside was preparing to make an exit and the level of furyoku was tangible in the air. Was that power really coming from Jeanne, in the uneven pigtails and the pink dress? Without noticing, he had shifted to the edge of his seat, watching like a hawk how Marco removed the chains and locks that protected the structure.
His mind went blank when the device was opened and a stream of blood poured out of it, the vision was so gruesome even the talkative Radim stayed put; the screens of the stadium broadcasted the close-up of a girl, painfully pinned to spikes for all to see. It was his Jeanne, hair still silver and wavy, now falling long over her bruised shoulders; when she opened her eyes, they were not the same that once batted lashes under the sun, they were grown up, full of conviction and poise.
"No…"
The word was merely a whisper, a sigh that escaped his throat. Luchist's legs felt weak as they dragged him out of his seat, and he held on for dear life to the rail that protected the balcony, turning his knuckles pale. It was impossible to take his eyes off the scene before him, but he tried. As if anything would change if he did, if he blinked a few more times. Her body was covered in fresh wounds and blood, she looked so fragile and small compared to the intimidating presence of the torture device, but still regal and unbothered. Her solemnity about it didn't make it any less painful to watch, to imagine the rusty spikes digging into her flesh and the darkness that surrounded her when the gate was closed.
Marco introduced her as the true leader of the X-Laws, as the Holy Child, the Iron Maiden Jeanne. Luchist paid deaf ears to the voice of the man he raised, attentively following the path of the girl, as she climbed down from her prison like it was nothing, her crimson eyes so much like the stains on her clothes. With all eyes on her and not a sound coming from the crowd, she explained like a true prophet how she was offering her pain to God, how she had traded it in exchange for the power to save humankind… but there was nothing godly about that bestiality.
Luchist knew it all too well, how there was no God to answer the prayers of a priest, no God to help those who needed him the most, no God that would sentence a child to a life of torture to atone for the sins of men. No, this was an all too human scheme, means to an end to gain strength. But as Jeanne healed her wounds and bent the iron maiden into an armor, the crowd was convinced: this was the righteous winner of the Shaman Fight, heaven sent to fix humanity's mistakes. That couldn't be further from the truth.
The gospel the soldiers preached, one of good and evil, light and dark, right and wrong; was the same old tune that had caused him to leave the church, and then the X-Laws. Because the world, sadly, was not black and white; it was shades of grey and Luchist couldn't live in it anymore. He couldn't fix it, he couldn't change the hearts of men and neither could Jeanne. It had to be rid of everything that was poisonous because there was no cure for humankind. That's why Hao needed to win.
His fingers let go of their grip around the rail when the voice of the opposing team, insulted and full of anger, boomed through the speakers of the venue. He released the tension of his jaw and fixed his suit to go back to his seat, his chin up and proud as ever. No one questioned his display, his comrades knew, his master knew.
He watched the rest of the battle in silence, defeated to an extent; Jeanne had the power of a true contender for the throne, but he could barely recognize her. She had become this promised savior, fighting against foolish and ordinary shamans for the place she believed chosen to take, just like they had intended many years ago. There was no trace left of the Jeanne that stepped on her toes to peek at the ocean on the ship's deck, there was no childlike innocence to her anymore. She had the judgmental pureness and righteousness of someone who knows herself better than others.
When Shamash made its appearance for the first time, he couldn't be surprised anymore, just heartbroken. An ancient god of justice was appropriate for the outdated ideals of the X-Laws, and he was quick to realize that it was also fitting for its new leader. There were no angels that could serve Jeanne's purposes of judgement and punishment like that spirit could; at least none of Luchist's design.
He had left the X-Laws for the same reason he funded them: to build a better world for everyone, for those who didn't have a voice, for those who had been wronged and for those who suffered, but especially for his family. The accidental family that he had put together when Marco was left to the care of the church, and then again when he took in a girl to make her into the next guide of men, the family he was so desperately trying to protect.
The path of justice was paved with blood and tears, it was a path he never wanted those dear to him to walk on. So he took it upon himself to do so, alone. His silent promise to them was to go down that road and spare them the pain, spare them the stains death leaves behind on one's hands. He left to fight for the peace they deserved and yet, seeing Jeanne in the arena, it felt like it had all been in vain.
The Niles' leader attacked Jeanne in a futile attempt to defeat her, even when all of those watching could anticipate the result; a warrior's ego is a stupid thing. Trapping Anatel in an oversoul torture device, she asked her guardian spirit to pass judgement on him, under the premise that he was fair and impartial.
The sentence was death and death Jeanne served, executing a man who chose not to surrender to her. As the ax went down, Luchist, who had seen it all, had to shut his eyes. He couldn't see it, her staining with blood the tiny hands that used to tug on his sleeve. He couldn't reconcile the firm command of her voice as that of his child, the one who asked in the sweetest whisper for her bedside lamp to be left on.
The pleads from team Niles fell silent, leaving them all to hear the distinct sound of the blade cut through its target. Unable to look up, a single and lonely tear rolled down Luchist's cheek.
What have we done to you, little bird?
Thank you for reading! If you could leave me a comment letting me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it :)
