071: Broken.

Characters: Shura, Death Mask. A bit of Aphrodite.

Words: 552.

Note: the other character is not a Gemini.


"It has cracked! Look at it, look at the crack!"

"Break it off! You're not a baby anymore!"

"It has cracked… my soul has…"

"Why are you crying, little one?"

Fragile. A little creature, too small, too fragile. Crouched against the ruin, left alone to himself and his dusty loneliness. Head in his hands.

And he cries.

"Why are you crying, little one?"

Frightened open eyes, startled by the doubt of not being worthy. Open, black eyes watered of tears. Pulsing his lips, he is a too fragile creature.

"I cannot hear the voice of heavens. The others can. Why?"

He cries.

"Tell me, how do you think this voice can be heard?"

The voice of heavens will indicate you what your own path is. Don't fear, you will hear it and know what destiny awaits you.

His best friends told him so:

"Well! It's up to me to be the very last guide to spirits and the like!"

"I'll pave with petals and beautiful roses rocky paths!"

And I?

He cries, the little warrior. The novice saint, Shura.

"I don't know! I can't hear it!"

"Take my hand"

The kid trusts him, and those green-blue eyes so warm and fraternal.

Shura trusts him.

"Hold my hand, with all your strength!"

The kid does it, because he –Shura- trusts him. He believes him. The boy's grab is secure, warm and immense just like the look in his eyes.

"Now tell me, what do you feel?"

"I feel your hand grabbing mine, and I feel… I feel your cosmos!"

From his corvine black eyes no more tears are falling. His lips don't break in smile, not yet. But they are not trembling anymore.

"Tell me, how can you feel my cosmos, Shura?"

"I don't know. I don't know.. I feel it inside of me, that's it!"

"Tell me, Shura. How can you feel my cosmos?"

"I don't know. I feel it. It's like a shake right inside my heart. It is so strong, yet so… gentle, it makes my heart shakes! And I feel it!"

"So you will hear the voice of heaves, my little one."

"And what will it tell me?"

The hand grabs his, and his golden cosmos streams into his arm. And a whistling rises, something that slices through the air in a white invisible whistle. He can hear it, right inside his fierce soul. He can finally hear it, echoing in his soul, little fierce saint. Shura.

"The voice of heaves, I have heard it! In my arm dwells the holy sword with whom Athena and the right I will protect!"

He is the first one Shura wants to entrust it to.

"Excalibur, its name, Shura. Excalibur that rests in your arm, when it needed you will rise it to protect Athena and the right. It is your own soul, Shura. Take care of it."

"It's cracked! Look at the crack! I rose it, high in the sky, it whistled in the vacuum air, I dropped it on him… and now, look at it! Look at this crack!"

A dull terror ground his heart, Shura asks his friend to deny the truth.

Words he cannot hear, not yet. Not from him

A voice he cannot hear. Nor inside of him, nor outside. No more.

He.

"My soul is broken."