It was necessary

© 2000 by Scorpio Milo

This page was last modified: 2000/06/02


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The wind blows over the ragged plain. Nervously you wipe off the sweat running down your forehead. Dawn is there and the horizon is still empty. Your stomach is making knots. You want the enemy to come at last so that this waiting ends.

You turn your head slightly to look at the other Saints. From where you stand, at the very first rank, you cannot see them all, even though you feel the presence of each of them. Those who stand around you are all at least half a head taller than you. Their faces are closed and you could not tell what they are feeling. Doubtlessly they are readying themselves for the fight. They all make an effort to appear confident when they see that you are watching them. You know that is because you are the youngest of the seventy Saints. They do not want to look worried in front of you. Part of the nervousness you felt disappears.

The enemy is still not there. To keep yourself occupied, you closely examine the Cloth covering your body, as if there could be the slightest imperfection in its emerald green structure. You wonder, once again, who realized it and with what materials. The Cloth is strangely warm to the touch and it protects you against the icy wind. You linger over the shield on your left arm. As long as you bear it, nothing will be able to harm you. It is indestructible.

You think once more about the three years that your training lasted. A time usually too short to train a Saint, your master said, but it was necessary this way. A great battle was nearing and speed was required. He told you that that would be sufficient for you, that, if he had had the time, he would have trained you to become a Gold Saint. He told you that he was proud of you. You remember his eyes gazing at the great falls as he said that. You wonder why they were so sad. Surely, he did not think that you were disappointed not to have had the chance to become a Gold Saint, did he?

You turn. Your master is not just near you, but he easily stands out among those surrounding him. His right hand holds a glittering trident and the left one is laid on the shoulder of another Saint in golden Cloth. You know they are the strongest two among those who stand here. No one is as strong as they are. With them, it is impossible that the battle will be lost. Libra Dohko and Aries Shion.

You'd like to tell your master once more how glad you are that you have been his disciple. You are not sure he truly realizes it. But he is not looking in your direction and this is not the time to leave your place. You could call him, but you do not want to disturb the other Saints. They are all very silent now, readying themselves. You are the only one not looking at the plain.

Suddenly, you realize that you don't really know any of them, except your master. You could barely put a dozen of names on the faces surrounding you. After having won your Cloth, you left peaceful China for scorching Greece. But you didn't even stay there for a week before you all had to come here to the battlefield. Yet, you trust them. You know they are all strong, even though you have never seen them fighting. You'd like to be as calm as they are. You'll be able to know each other after the battle, even though there will surely be a lot of wounded, you think. Your master taught you how to heal by using your vital points. It will certainly be useful then.

A shiver runs among all the Saints and immediately you turn back. The enemy arrives. You feel it, before even seeing or hearing them. They arrive, on the other end of the plain. Around you, you feel the auras of the Saints preparing themselves to fight. Even though no normal sense allows you to detect the foes nearing, you know it will take them but a moment to be here. You know they are one hundred and eight. You know they are dangerous. You know that, even when killed, they are born again every two or three hundred years. But you also know that it is the duty of the Saints to fight this eternal evil. And you know that, until now, you have always been victorious. It will necessarily be so again this time, when you are so numerous. Won't it?

The enemy is there, dark masses on the pale plain. Suddenly anxiety rises again in you. In your mind, once more you repeat the moves of your secret attack. The only one you know. It would be better otherwise, but it will have to do against those you will have to face. With it, you can reverse the flow of waterfalls. And yesterday, just yesterday, your master confided to you that, when brought to its upper limit, this attack could achieve a truly irresistible power. You remember his near-white face and the sweat running over his forehead as he told you that, hesitating on each word, a mere hour before the Saints received the order to leave Sanctuary for the battle. You don't understand why he waited so long before revealing it to you. Was he afraid that you wouldn't know how to use it?

The battle is going to begin in an instant. You turn a last time. And then, it is the Goddess Athena whom you see. She is among her Saints, wearing her own Cloth, also ready to fight. She's looking at you. Only at you. And her brown eyes are sad, as they were the day your master presented you to her, when she told you she needed you. You remember how proud that made you. You don't understand why she looks so sad while looking at you, nor why you think you see a tear rolling down her cheek. You don't like seeing her this way. You don't like to think that she could be harmed. This won't happen, you decide. You will protect her as long as it will be necessary. If only she could smile, now...

But the enemy is on you, sweeping as a swarm of monsters. You take your guard and hurriedly ignite your cosmo, ready to...

 

"Astrios?"

Astrios woke up with a start as his sister laid her hand on his shoulder. He had gone to sleep reading one of the numerous books of the archives of Sanctuary. And during his sleep, he thought he had dreamed... Ignoring Astreya's questions, he quickly looked for the line where he had stopped. There.

Dragon Bronze Saint Gaherys
Died using the forbidden technique of Rozan Ko Ryu Ha in Athena's service

Lower, almost erased, two dates.

1735-1743

The End


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