4Hello everybody!
So this is another origin-type story. As in the story of a previous Angel and Demon, this time taking place during the Void Century. This fic is a little bit on the darker side of things because it takes place during a war and such, so there are mentions of blood and violence. There is also mentions of sex, but nothing too explicit.
Also, sad things happen, so it might be a good idea to have tissues on hand.
In other news: MY FIC GOT A FIC! HOW COOL IS THAT?!
It is titled What's Lost Will Always be Found Again by fingers-falling-upwards and it is beautifully writen. If you like my soulmates!verse then you should definitely go check out Fin's story! And don't forget to leave a review!
Disclaimer: This is MY story. It is completely original with the exception of a few minor details.
Now then, please enjoy!
~Void~
When understanding is lost, it creates a void so wide it can't be crossed. No matter how hard you try.
Alice is hope.
She is a thin, little wisp of a girl, all dark tan skin and scrawny limbs with cropped blond hair and deep brown eyes. Eyes that some say look crimson when you look at them in certain light at just the right angle. Others know better.
Alice knows from a young age that she is hope.
She is protected and hidden and loved and worshipped. She is told stories of old, of ancient wars and long lost souls. She is taught that balance is the most important – it must last above all else. She knows when she is only four and her family is packing everything they own into sacks that something has gone horribly wrong. As they flee into the night, she knows that, someday, she will have to answer the call in her soul. When she is six and her father doesn't return and a man with dark, sad eyes whispers apologies to her mother thinking that she cannot hear, she knows that he will not be coming home.
She knows because she heard him. The World is silent. It has been for as long as she can remember even though she knows deep down that this is not how the World should be. The World is silent and does not answer when she calls. But every now and then, she'll hear a whisper on the wind or feel a tug in her heart and she'll know. Know that the World isn't completely lost. Know that she hasn't been left alone in this strange place.
And she clings to that when her mother falls ill and shows no signs of getting better. The war has made everything so much harder; medicine cannot be found. And Alice has to watch as her mother slowly deteriorates before her eyes until she slips away one night in her sleep.
Mako stays silently by her side always after that. The younger boy acts as her shield. Keeping away the curious stares, the reverent whispers and desperate prayers alike. He is her friend and her guard and her confidant. He is the one who listens and gives her advice. He is the one who treats her as the little girl she is rather than the warrior savior that everyone wants her to be.
Alice is hope.
But Mako is her Star.
Zeera is hope.
She is a child; just a little girl found abandoned in the rubble with long dark hair and bright, green green eyes. Eyes that flash silver whenever there is a storm and the sky screams with light and sound alike.
Zeera knows from a young age that she is hope.
She is warrior strong and bright and powerful and worshipped. She is the savior of all things or so she is told by those that take her in. She is trained how to fight and how to kill and how to heal. She is taught that she represents all that is holy and pure and light. She is told that she must vanquish the evil and tainted above all else to restore the order of a world that has fallen into chaos.
She hears screams sometimes when they tell her her duty. She is the Savior, the Light that will erase the Darkness. And she listens to them, believes them. Even though something deep inside her breaks a little every time. She hears voices in her head and feels as if a knife has been shoved into her chest. The Worlds is silent. But sometimes. Sometimes it screams at her in anger and pain and sadness. Those are bad days. They don't understand on those days. On those days, they tell her that she must fight back against the evil whispering in her head, that she must not listen and must not let it win. They think it is a fight. They think everything is a fight, a battle that must be fought and won with enemies that must be killed and vanquished.
But it isn't like that at all and she can't find the words to explain. On those days, only Rowl stays with her. On those days, the man who saved her from the rubble of a home she can't remember holds her in his arms as she cries. Cries for the World and it's pain. Rowl doesn't ever ask her to explain, doesn't ever tell her this is just another battle to be fought.
He lets her cry and feel and grieve for things she cannot understand. Silently guarding and watching and waiting. And when she has cried herself out, he will pick her up and carry her to bed even if it's still the middle of the day and tell her to sleep. He treats her as a person, one that has thoughts and feelings and ideas, instead of the cold, faceless weapon they want her to be.
Zeera is hope.
But Rowl is her Star.
The first time Alice kills someone, she is twelve.
The man grapples with her, large hands clamping down around her throat and squeezing, a dark sneer on his face. She has no time to think and the knife is shoved between his ribs before she's even realized that she moved. A strange, choked off gasp gets locked in the man's throat and he looks at her with stunned eyes as his hands fall away, strength leaving them. He looks at her, stunned and angry and spiteful.
"Demon…" he spits, blood dripping from his lips as eyes condemn her.
Alice just watches him. She watches as he struggles and fails to move. Watches as his strength slowly fails him. Watches as the light slowly fades from his eyes. And when she feels his soul leave his body, she closes her dark wings around herself and cries, hiding from everyone and anything.
The first time Zeera is in a battle, she is fourteen.
She flies across the battlefield, delicate and fierce and graceful. She moves as if in a trance, white wings dyed red with blood. The scent of ash and death lingers around her and part of her cringes away, but she does as she was trained to do and strikes down those who have been deemed wicked.
She is the Angel of vengeance.
She is both feared and loved.
And when the battle is over, they congratulate and praise her. They sing of her victory over the evil and tainted and tell her that they will soon win the war. The cost is high, but it is for the greater good. She will be their strength and their guide. She will lead them to victory.
They ignore her tears.
The first time they meet, Zeera is sixteen and Alice is twenty.
Their eyes lock across war and opposing sides and lines drawn so deep into the sand they bleed. Alice feels her breath catch in her throat as something finally, finally, slots into place in her chest. Zeera stares with wide eyes as she suddenly realizes what it is to feel complete for the first time in her life.
Then there is an explosion of dirt and blood and smoke between them and the moment is gone.
The first time the Angel and Demon meet in this life and there is only war.
When Alice turns eighteen, the council tells her to marry.
She rages and rants, screaming so loudly that the ground shakes beneath them as her eyes burn with crimson light. She flies off in anger before they can stop her and ignores their pleas.
Mako is the one who finds her. He always finds her. She sits at the edge of the lake she fled to and stubbornly ignores him even as he sits beside her.
"They're just scared, you know," he says after a long moment of silence.
"So?" she snarls back, "They just want my children. They just want the next generation to be ready for war. Fools. The Inheritance has never worked like that and it never will. They want an Angel while one already lives and breathes."
"Can you blame them?" Mako asks softly, calm as he always is in the face of her temper.
She deflates, shoulders slumping. "No," she mumbles, decidedly not pouting.
Mako just tugs one of her horns and gives her a sad little smile. "Fear does strange things to people," he says.
"Everything's slipping away," Alice says with a sad sigh as she leans into her Star, draping one of her wings around the younger boy, "We start to forget things we should remember and we remember things that would be better off forgotten."
"But we will endure," Mako assures, taking one of her hands in both of his.
Alice stares out at the silent, still water of the lake, the clear water reflecting the blue sky like a mirror. The calm before the storm. She closes her eyes. "Yes," she whispers, because they have to.
When Zeera is eleven, she realizes that no one touches her.
Outside of training, she does not have physical contact with other people. No one has ever ruffled her hair or pat her on the back. No one has ever held her hand or kissed her cheek. No one has ever wrapped their arms around her and held her like she was the most precious thing in existence.
Except Rowl.
But he only touches her on those days. Those days when it is too much and not enough. On those days where everything feels like it's breaking and the World is falling down around her ears. Outside of those days, there is a cool distance between them, a formality that is maintained and a propriety that is upheld no matter how she wishes she could tear it down.
Everyone else keeps their distance. She's never noticed it before. The way they look at her, eyes filled with awe and fear and something else that she doesn't quite understand. To them, she is the Angel. To them, she is not human.
And she is surprised how much this realization pains her. She has been trained to be above this – to be better than humankind. To be the Savior that will cleanse to World. But her heart still aches and craves the affection she sees between others, the bonds they carry that she does not, the love they share while she has none. It hurts.
So she retreats. She steps back into the shadows and watches longingly. And when it becomes too much, she flees. She stares at the sea for hours, lost in the dance of the waves.
She doesn't startle when Rowl is suddenly there, standing behind her. He doesn't say anything, merely waiting.
"Why doesn't anyone touch me?" she asks finally, voice little more than a whisper.
"Because no one is worthy of touching you," the man says at last.
"But I want to be touched," she replies, "I want to be loved."
"You are," Rowl assures.
Zeera turns at that and looks up into her Star's earnest face. He believes that, believes that she is loved. "No," she says solemnly, "I am not."
Rowl looks startled. "You can't really believe that."
Zeera turns away, her green, green eyes watching the waves longingly. "I am worshipped, not loved. There is a difference."
Rowl doesn't say anything. He can't. And so Zeera sighs, because as much as she had hoped that Rowl would try to prove her wrong, she knows that he can't.
"To be Divine is to be alone it seems," she murmurs.
Rowl doesn't correct her.
The second time they meet, Zeera is eighteen and Alice is twenty-two.
Silver eyes meet crimson and they are much closer this time. Zeera is covered in dirt and blood and grime and Alice is no better. The battle continues around them, angry shouts and clashing weapons. But for them, in this moment, nothing else exists. Slowly, carefully, wonderingly, Alice reaches out and traces her finger tips over the curve of Zeera's cheek.
The younger woman's eyes go wide and she sucks in a startled breath at the contact. This stranger is touching her. Touching her in a way that she has always longed for – it's simple and barely there against her skin, but it's real. This woman who she has only ever seen once before is looking at her like she is the center of her universe. Looking at her with so much wonder and love that Zeera suddenly finds it hard to breathe.
"You're real," Alice whispers breathlessly, hand reaching around to cup the back of Zeera's head and pull them close until their foreheads are touching, "I thought I had imagined you that time."
Zeera reaches a trembling hand out, fingers curling into the fabric of the other's shirt. "You're touching me."
Alice blinks. "Of course, you are mine and I am yours," she says simply.
Zeera's eyes are burning and it takes her a few moments to realize that she is crying. Alice makes a startled sound and holds the younger's face between her palms. "I'm sorry," she says, voice cracking, "I…I just…"
Alice softens and wraps her arms around Zeera's trembling form. "It's alright."
The second time the Demon and Angel meet, they hold each other until the battle around them ends and they must again part.
When Alice in nineteen, her cousin falls in love.
She thinks it's sweet at first. The way Maria sighs dreamily at nothing with that faraway look in her eyes. The way Maria's voice changes ever so slightly when she starts talking about her beloved. She thinks it's sweet.
At first.
But the council is hovering again. Dropping hints about the upcoming marriage and what it could mean and should mean and would mean. Alice hates it because it means her cousin's love as become a spectacle. Just because of the blood in her veins. The same blood that flows in Alice's.
Maria waves away both Alice's apologies and the council's intentions with graceful ease.
"It's not your fault those old geezers are getting desperate," her cousin says.
Alice bites back the protest at that because it's not true. She should have stopped this war by now. The Generation before her should have stopped it. Perhaps even before that. The war has been going on for decades – two more and it will have lasted for an entire century. So many years and lives wasted. And for what? What were they even fighting for anymore? Was anyone around to remember what had started this whole conflict in the first place?
No, this is her fault, but she keeps those thoughts to herself and lets her cousin believe otherwise even as Mako gives her a knowing look from the other side of the room. Curse him and his all-knowingness.
"Have you given any thought to it yourself?" Maria asks one day.
"Thought to what?"
"Love. Getting married."
Alice shrugs. "Not really," she answers, "Now…all I do is fight. It isn't the time for anything like that. The only reason anyone is talking about it is because they think I might give birth to the Angel for them."
Maria snorts, rolling her eyes. "The Inheritance doesn't work like that."
"I know. But the council seems to think differently."
Maria frowns, eyes flashing. "They should know better."
And they really should. Many of them are of the Blood, though it is a looser connection than Alice and Maria have. Still, it should mean something – blood is blood no matter how thinly spread over the generations. But it seems the old ways were slowly slipping.
"Old man Kano said the same thing," Maria tells her when she voices this thought aloud.
Kano was the Demon before her. The one that dealt with the brunt of this war. He carried the Weight until it killed him and the part of her that is still him aches over the knowledge that the war still continues.
"Fear and greed do strange things to humans," Alice muses.
Maria chuckles "Emotions in general do, sweetie."
Alice hums in acknowledgement. Her cousin isn't wrong after all.
"So," Maria continues, "Are you ever going to hook up with Mako?"
Alice flushes. "W-What?!" she cries out as Maria laughs at her, "No way! We aren't like that at all!"
Maria just grins slyly at her. "You can't lie to me. He is your Star."
Alice sputters, face as red as her eyes sometimes are.
"Though you should probably wait a bit; he won't be of age until next year."
"MARIA!"
When Zeera is fifteen, she makes a friend.
The island they are docked at is secure and well within their territory, so there is no danger of battle for once. It is an odd change of pace for Zeera, but a nice one. She has missed the quiet, peaceful air of regular life live far away from the ravages of war. Still, even though there is peace in this small place, there are still war meetings to attend and training to be done.
But Zeera is tired of fighting, of the way her life revolves around nothing but fighting.
So she changes out of the uniform that sets her apart from the others and dons a gray cloak and slips out her bedroom window when no one is looking. She wanders through town aimlessly just watching. She watches the people walk and talk and live their lives away from all of the violence and death and pain. She watches and she is jealous because they don't know what hardship is like but she is happy that they have never been hurt in such a way before.
She visits and the market and passes through the stalls, looking at the wares and food on display. She listens to the haggling between merchants and the laughter of the children running through the street and thinks that this is what she must be fighting for. To protect this. This thing that no one seemed to really pay attention to until it was ripped out from under them. This thing that let them feel safe and free and made it okay for them to smile. Yes, she could fight for this.
She is so lost in thought, that she doesn't even realize that she's stopped in the middle of the street. She doesn't notice the people around her, the lone child playing with a small dog barely up to her knee. She doesn't realize that children are strange, unpredictable creatures that don't pay attention to the world the way adults do.
So when the little boy collides with her legs and falls to the ground with a heavy thump, she couldn't be more surprised.
Startled, she quickly kneels down to check on him. He's a skinny little thing, barely any baby fat clinging to his cheeks like she sees on most children. His hair is a mess of light brown with golden streaks here and there. The small dog at his side, a puppy really – all awkward limbs and excess energy in the form of a golden ball of fluff, whines and nudges at his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" she asks.
The boy startles at her voice and his face whips up in her direction. "Y-yeah," he says, "Sorry."
"It's fine. As long as you aren't hurt," she replies, wondering why he won't look at her. His eyes are blank and gray and staring straight over her shoulder. She reaches out and pulls him back to his feet, but keeps looking at his eyes. They aren't like any that she's seen before and she still doesn't like the way he doesn't look at her.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" she asks after a moment of awkward silence in which the boy starts fidgeting.
"Huh?" he blinks, clearly startled.
"Your eyes," she says again, "You won't look at me." Her brow furrows as a sudden thought occurs to her. "Or is something wrong with me?" she asks, hoping the worry isn't obvious in her voice. She had thought that her clothes made her blend in, but perhaps she was wrong, maybe he recognized her and was like the others.
"Oh…you're not from 'round here are ya?" the boy asks instead, confusing her.
"…No?"
"I'm blind," the boy says simply, "Ever'body here knows that. Sorry 'bout runnin' in ta ya."
Zeera blinks, completely baffled. "What is…blind?" she asks slowly. She has never met anyone who was blind before. Maybe it has to do with why his eyes are so hazy looking.
"Huh?" The boy gaps and Zeera wonders why he looks so stunned. "Are ya dumb or som'fin? Ever'body knows what it means!"
Zeera pouts. "I don't."
The boy falls silent, face tilted up towards her, but not quite looking at her. "Means I can't see," he says at last.
She tilts her head and squints down at him. "But you have eyes."
The boy frowns. "So? Still can't see."
She crouches down to his level and looks straight into his eyes. There is nothing there, just empty slates. It's odd. She has only ever seen such blank eyes on a dead person and it bothers her to see them on a child. "How come?" she asks.
The boy shrugs. "Dunno. I was born like this."
"Strange…" she murmurs to herself.
But the boy hears her and scowls in her direction. "So what? Just 'cause I can't see doesn't mean ya can be a jerk about it!"
Zeera rears back, completely baffled. "Huh? Why would I do that?"
The boy pauses. "Ya just called me strange," he says slowly.
Zeera shrugs. "I've never met someone who couldn't see before. It's different. But that doesn't mean bad."
"….You're really weird, ya know that?"
"Hmm, I suppose so. I was born different to," she says.
The boy perks up. "Really?"
She nods even though he can't see it. "Yup."
Slowly, the boy smiles. "I'm Nikko."
Zeera smiles back. "Zeera."
The puppy barks loudly, drawing their attention. Nikko giggles. "And this is Maxie."
Zeera smiles and tentatively pats the little dog's head, receiving an enthusiastic tail wag and another bark in return. "It's nice to meet you."
After that, Zeera visits Nikko and Maxie whenever she manages to slip away from Rowl. It's nice, being around someone who doesn't treat her differently. To Nikko, she is just some stranger who doesn't make fun of his eyes. She is not the all-powerful Savior or the Angel or the Protector of all that is Pure and Light. She is just a girl, just a human. And she likes it. Likes being treated like she's not anything special. So she sneaks into town as often as she can.
Nikko teaches her everything there is to know about the island – where the best places to eat are, which trees are best to climb, which birds sing the prettiest, who the nicest people are, and so on. Zeera likes listening to Nikko talk about how he "sees" things. It's a different view that she has never considered before and it fascinates her. Nikko is curious about her view as well. Zeera finds herself figuring out how to explain what colors look like to someone who has never seen them before.
It's fun.
But Zeera has to leave eventually, and that day draws ever closer. Soon enough, it's the day before her departure. She sneaks out one last time to meet her two friends. Maxie knows right away that she is upset. The little puppy is surprisingly good at reading people and Zeera doesn't know if it's something all animals can do or if Maxie is just special. She hasn't met enough animals to be able to tell. Still, she likes to think that little Maxie is special, especially when he wriggles until he finds a comfortable place in her lap and settles down, leaning against her in silent, fluffy comfort.
"I have to leave tomorrow," Zeera says, breaking the heavy silence as she strokes a hand over Maxie's back.
Nikko scuffs his foot against the dirt, a small frown on his face. "Yea," he grumbles, more to the ground that to her.
"It doesn't have to be forever," she tries, because she doesn't want to say goodbye and she knows that Nikko doesn't either, "I could – "
"Ya could wat?" Nikko scoffs, glaring in her direction, "Write me? It's not like I kin read it! Blind, remember? An' even if I could see, s'not like I'd be able to read or write an'thin back!"
"I could visit?" Zeera offers weakly, because they both know that if Zeera has to sneak out just to see the town, the chances of that are slim.
The younger boy sighs and shakes his head, plopping down on the bench next to her. "We're just gonna have ta say goodbye, ain't we?"
Zeera wants to protest, she really does. But she can't argue with him.
"I don't even know wat ya look like," he mumbles, frowning at the ground again.
That was one of the things Zeera had never been able to really explain. She had let the boy touch her face – had enjoyed the way his fingertips had skimmed across her skin feather light – but that could only give him so much of the picture. She isn't sure what compels her, but she reaches out and takes his face in her hands and pulls him close. Carefully, she draws her thumbs over his eyes and they close automatically.
"Zeera?"
This is right. She knows. She feels the ache in Nikko's heart and she will fix it. She can't fix everything, but she can fix this. She doesn't know how but she will. And this is all she thinks as she presses a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead.
And then she pulls away, releasing his face from her grasp.
"Look at me," she says.
Nikko frowns. "Zeera –"
"Nikko. Look at me."
Still frowning, Nikko obediently opens his eyes. Or tries to at least. He makes a startled sound and his hands fly up to his face.
"Z-Zeera?" he asks, voice shaking with fear and maybe a little hope, "Wat was that?"
Zeera smiles. "Open your eyes and see," she answers. When he hesitates, she adds, "Take your time."
Trembling, Nikko seems to take ages, but slowly, ever so slowly, he lowers his hands and faces her, their eyes meeting for the first time. Nikko's eyes are wide in astonishment and Zeera is pleased to find that they are still the same gray they were before, but they show life now, a spark that had been absent previously. For a long moment, they just stare at each other.
"…You're beautiful," Nikko says at last.
Zeera laughs and pulls him and Maxie into a hug.
The sixteenth time they meet, Zeera is twenty-one and Alice is twenty-five.
There are no words this time, no smiles or tears. This time there is only anger. They clash blow for blow. Voices call out and screams echo and blur together in chaos. It hurts. People are dying around them, bleeding out and begging for mercy, anything to make the pain stop.
This time there is no love between them.
This time there is only battle and echoing cries of fight, maim, kill, win. This time, their souls cry out for balance through death because the scale is so far beyond tipped that there is no other force with the possible strength to equalize it. The balance is gone and the World is skewed and everything inside them is screaming for it to end.
The sixteenth time the Angel and Demon meet, they try to kill each other.
When Alice is thirty-three, she knows that they are losing the war.
She can feel it in her bones, in her blood, in her heart. Things have slipped too far and they are long past the point of being able to pull them back. She knows that Zeera feels it too; she had seen the ache and the exhaustion and the knowing in her Angel's eyes that last time they had seen each other. Things are coming to an end, for better or worse and there is nothing either of them can do anymore that will shift the outcome.
She runs her hand over the dark stone in front of her, fingers tracing letters that carry hope and a prayer. She rests her forehead against the story of her people wills someone, anyone, no matter how far away their birth is, how many centuries it may take for them to appear, to listen to the tale. It's sad and tragic and filled with hate and love and the downfall and rise of a people broken. She hopes and wishes and wills and prays that someday, someone will listen to the words one this unbreakable black stone.
But until that time comes, it must be kept hidden. It must be kept safe. So she seals it away, hides it in plain sight to anyone who wishes to see. The stone will keep the roots of the tree strong, will help the island flourish and grow until the right moment.
Mako is waiting for her and he stands their patiently as she coaxes the wound in the tree's bark that she herself cut closed. When she finishes, she steps back and looks up at the tree, so young but already so tall.
"One day," she says, "This tree will reach the sky."
"And our story will be told," Mako says as he comes to stand with her, "You finished it?"
Alice nods, watching the way the branches catch the wind of the sea. "The poneglyph is sealed away, sleeping. One day it will be woken," she sighs, "But I feel that day is a long way off."
Mako reaches out and squeezes her shoulder in silent support. She reaches up and threads her fingers through his.
"Come," Alice says after a long moment, turning away from the tree, "We have more seeds to sow."
Buried deep beneath the Tree of Knowledge, their story sleeps, waiting for the day it will be told.
When Zeera is twenty-seven, they stumble across a large black stone.
They do not like it. They cannot read it either, but they know what it holds. Zeera doesn't know how they found out what is on the strange stone and she does not ask. She can see the anger and the worry and the greed in their eyes whenever the stone is mentioned. Apparently it holds names. And names are power.
But these names. These names hold far more power than most.
Pluton.
Poseidon.
Uranus.
A chill crawls up her spine and she wishes it would all just disappear. The looks on their faces at those names – they make her sick. She does not want to see what would happen should they find them and their meaning.
But she knows they won't. They can't.
She sees the shadow that lingers around the stone, clinging to the letters it holds. It is sleeping. And Alice made sure that it couldn't be woken. Not by them. Her Demon is protecting their story – she is protecting their hope.
So Zeera stands back and watches as they grow frustrated. Finally, disillusioned, they order for the stone's destruction. The stone is useless if it cannot be read, but they will not risk the names falling into someone else's hands.
But Zeera knows better.
She watches as blades and tools shatter, as fire burns everything but black stone. Nothing will break it. Nothing will crack it. She watches and the shadow coils tightly around its treasure, jealously guarding it.
This is a battle they will lose.
"Is there nothing that will break this stone?" Rowl mutters one day as he stands by her side watching.
"Poneglyph," she corrects softly, "It is called a poneglyph."
Rowl side eyes her. "…Could you destroy it?"
Zeera stares at the black stone, fingers aching to reach out for the shadow that clings to it. After a moment, she turns and walks away without a word. Yes, she could destroy it. She knows she could. She and Alice have always been able to reverse the other's work. But not this time. This time, Alice's work must live on. For now it is sleeping, but one day it will wake. And when it does, perhaps the World will be right again.
This is a battle she will not help them win.
The forty-ninth time they meet, Zeera is twenty-four and Alice is twenty-eight.
It is quiet.
There are no screams, no roars of victory or cries of defeat. There is no blood painting the ground, no ash hanging in the air. The scent of death is absent the corpses that carry it are nowhere to be seen. There are no armies, no soldiers. No one to tell them to fight and to kill and to die.
They are alone.
And it is both stifling and exhilarating.
Wordlessly, Alice reaches out a hand and Zeera flies into her arms without a moment's hesitation. They sink to the ground, wrapped up in each other so tightly they can't tell who starts and ends where. They lie there on the ground, tangled together under the cloudless blue sky, and breathe. Just breathe.
They know this moment is fleeting, but they will make it last.
The forty-ninth time the Angel and Demon meet is the first time they see each other off the battle field.
When Alice is twenty-three, she has sex for the first time.
She isn't really sure why she's chosen now of all times. She doesn't think Mako does either. But they don't regret it even years later.
They rock together in the open air under the moon and stars, soft, quiet – ever so quiet, words passing between them. The Demon and her Star. They are soulbound always and closer than close. They feel and live and breathe together always. They carry on and cry together.
Perhaps that is why.
They love unconditionally. They are more when they are together and less when they are parted.
Alice listens to Mako's heartbeat after, when they are curled together in the grass, her wings wrapped around them to ward off the night's chill.
"Maria is going to laugh when she finds out," Mako muses, breaking the silence.
Alice hums, smiling absently. "She'll tease us mercilessly."
"We could always not tell her."
Alice just snorts.
"Worth a try."
She chuckles and they lapse into silence again. Mako is tracing random patterns into her skin and she cannot keep the smile off her face. It's not romance or lust or anything so mild that lingers between them. It is something that has always been there and always will be. It is nothing and everything and is impossible to put into words. It is something they both understand and don't need to explain. It is just who they are.
Mako is her safe haven and guiding star. She is his shadow.
"Thank you," she whispers into his skin.
Mako just smiles against her hair.
Words unspoken, but understood, echo between them.
I love you.
When Zeera is thirty, she learns she can give love as well as receive it.
Love is difficult for her, it always has been. Alice loves her, she knows. But love with others is far more complicated. Love and worshipful awe are not the same thing and that is something not many seem to realize. It doesn't bother her nearly as much as it had when she was younger. Still, part of her aches for the affection she sees so casually displayed between others.
Nikko has told her repeatedly that she doesn't have to wait around for someone to love her – she can love others herself. She had hugged him that one time after all. And that had been before she had met Alice and learned what it meant to be complete. Providing that affection is intimidating thought, especially when most of the people she talks to have trouble looking her in the eyes. She isn't sure what she's supposed to do or how to do it.
Rowl has been watching her lately, trying to figure out what is bothering her. Zeera doesn't know what to tell him. But out of everyone, he might understand the most. He's her Star and they are bound together forever and always.
It takes her a few days to gather her courage. When she does, she tracks down Rowl and finds him at the beach, sitting in the sand idly watching the waves. Without a words she crawls into his lap in a way she hasn't since she was very small. To his credit, Rowl just blinks down at her and raises an eyebrow. Zeera grins up at him and doesn't say a word, turning so that her back is resting against his chest, looking out at the sea like he was only moments before.
After a moment – to her surprise – Rowl wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her head.
"Is there a reason for this?" he asks.
Zeera hums, pleased. "Hmmm, yes."
"And that would be?" Rowl prompts when she doesn't continue.
"I love you," she says simply.
Rowl doesn't say anything in response, but his arms hold her a little closer. Zeera smiles. She understands what he won't say.
I love you.
The hundred-seventy-sixth time they meet, Zeera is thirty-five and Alice is thirty-nine.
The hundred-seventy-sixth time the Angel and Demon meet, they die.
Alice reaches across the short distance between them and takes Zeera's hand in hers, sliding their palms together and clasping her wrist as tightly as she can. Zeera gives her a weak smile and wraps shaking fingers around her wrist in return.
It's quiet. The battle has moved away from them. Or they have moved away from it. They can't remember. But it's not important. They are tired. So very, very tired. Tired of the fighting and the pain and the death. Tired of everything. They just want to sleep.
And they know that soon they will be able to. Together.
So they ignore the wounds and the pain and let themselves go numb even as red continues to pool around them. Their vision blurs with tears and words unspoken freeze on their lips, never quite becoming a reality.
Finally, Alice manages to wheeze out, "Together."
She feels a faint squeeze at her wrist and Zeera's echoing, "Together."
It's all they need.
I love you.
Mako finds them first.
He rushes towards them, dropping to his knees, heedless of the blood that is now soaking his clothes.
"Alice," he calls, reaching out and shaking her shoulder, "Alice!"
Bleary brown eyes blink up at him. "Mako?"
He breathes a shaky sigh of relief. "Just hang on," he tells her, "I'll get you to a medic. Both of you."
And Alice smiles because even though Zeera is the enemy, Mako still understands what so many have forgotten. Zeera is still her Angel and Mako remembers what that means. Still.
"Thank you," she whispers sincerely, smile never once faltering, "But Zeera is already gone."
Mako's face crumples. Because he knows; Alice knows that he knows. He pitches forward, a strangled sob escaping him as he curls himself around her head. "I'm sorry," he chokes out, "I should have been with you."
"Don't be silly, Star," Alice says softly, breathlessly, "It's been a long time coming now. We've both known for a while this was the only way it would end."
Mako says nothing, curling further into himself, reaching out to hold their clasped wrists in one of his hands.
"I don't think I've ever seen you cry before," Alice muses quietly, "I was always the one crying. And yet here we are. And I still can't see you cry."
Alice can't move anymore. Her body has long gone numb and she can feel herself fading. She is sad that Mako found her before she left. But another part of her, the undeniably selfish part of her, his happy that he did.
"You always cried enough for the both of us," Mako says, "This time it's my turn."
Alice just smiles.
When Rowl finds them, he knows.
He sees the blood, sees Zeera lying on the ground. Still. So very still. Zeera is rarely still. Her chest unmoving – no shallow inhale or exhale to indicate life. And her eyes are closed, a peaceful smile on her face.
And then he takes in the rest of the scene – sees the enemy soldier and the Demon – and all he feels is anger. Anger and grief and pain and why did this happen? Why her? It is always her, always Zeera who suffers. He had wanted to spare her this.
The solider looks up and sees him, eyes going wide as he staggers to his feet, hands flying to his weapon. He ignores the redness of his eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks, ignores the way the Demon calls what he assumes is the man's name. He is too far gone to care. Too angry at these twisted beings to listen as the man tried to explain.
Alice can't move. She can't turn her head to see what is happening. She hears the clash of metal on metal, hears Mako arguing for them to be kept together only to be met with cold, angry silence. And then everything stops and she hears the sound of metal meeting flesh and the wet choking sound that follows. She keens, high and soft, her heart crying out for her Star but her body too weak to act on it.
New tears, tears she didn't think she'd had anymore, fall from her eyes and all she can do is lie there and mourn.
A man steps into her failing vision and all she can see, can focus on, are the dark blue eyes that look at her with such hate. She would laugh, if she could. She recognizes Zeera's Star when she sees him. But he is just like the others. Someone who has lost the old ways – perhaps never even knew them in the first place. Someone who doesn't understand what it is to be bonded the way he is, the way the Angel is to the Demon.
Her Angel's Star ignores her, reaching down to scoop her Light into his arms.
She rebels.
Her eyes flash crimson and her hold on her Angel tightens as she snarls, voice clear and strong and feral and dark, "She is mine."
"She does not belong to you, beast," he snarls right back.
And in a smooth motion, he raises a sword still red with Mako's blood and brings it down on her arm.
She screams.
Not because of the pain. Not the physical pain, at least. The only thing keeping her connected to her Angel is gone. And now her Angel's Star is standing, getting ready to take her away and something inside her breaks.
"Please," she whispers, voice cracking and shattered, "Please let me stay will her."
He says nothing, just turns and walks away. Alice can do nothing but weep silently as she watches him disappear from her sight.
Rowl ignores the Demon; she is a waste of his time. He can see Zeera's work on her body, knows that she doesn't have much time left. So he doesn't bother. His priority is to get Zeera somewhere safe, somewhere untainted. So as he carries her, he tries to pry the Demon's hand from the Angel's grip only to fail and fail again.
It isn't until he's back on the ship that Rowl realizes Zeera is crying fresh, warm tears, even after her body has long gone cold.
Alice just wants to rest, but something is holding her here. She hears the World whispering to her, asking her, pleading with her to hold on just a little longer. She listens even though all she wants to do is give in. She has nothing left and she is so very tired.
She hears something, but it's muffled, as if she were underwater. She doesn't know what's happening. But suddenly, she's being lifted and strong arms are holding her and Maria's face appears before her. She can barely make it out, but she would know her cousin anywhere. Sound slowly trickles back and she can hear Maria calling her name. She sounds like she's crying. But Alice is too distracted by the Light she feels coming from Maria's belly.
She opens her mouth and chokes on the words.
"Shhh, I've got you," Maria says, sounding dangerously close to sobbing, "I've got you, Alice. You're safe, I promise."
"He's alive! Maria, he's alive!" someone that Alice can't see calls and Maria does sob then and Alice wonders who they're talking about.
"Mako will be alright, Alice. We'll take care of him," Maria assures.
And Alice remembers hearing him fall and seeing his blood and she wishes she had the energy to cry in relief like her cousin because Mako is alive.
"Good," she manages to push past her lips and Maria immediately quiets to listen. She is vaguely aware of others around them, but she could care less about them. Her world has narrowed down to Mako and Maria and the little Light inside her belly. With all the strength she can muster, she rests her remaining hand on her cousin's stomach. "Take care…of my…Light," she gasps.
She sees Maria's eyes go wide, sees the understanding flash across her face. Alice knows her Angel is in good hands. So she closes her eyes and finally lets go. The last thing she hears is Maria's promise.
"Always."
So yeah. Got kinda sad and a little gruesome there at the end. I feel like I should warn you that Origin stories will only end in death...ya know, if I ever post any others, not sure if I will, but they will definitely end that way.
Anywho~
Fun Facts:
- Alice is the form that Ace takes in Wild.
- Yes, that was Alice planting the Poneglyph at Ohara.
- Rowl really does love Zeera even if he seem a bit standoff-ish.
- Alice and Zeera fought a lot. Most of their meeting were on the battlefield. And while they loved each other, they were raised with different philosophies that often clashed.
- Mako lived and became a guardian and protector to the new Angel, though he wasn't their Star.
- Both Alice and Zeera had sea burials.
- The Angel and Demon remember bits and pieces from their past lives.
Just somethings you might find interesting. If you have any questions about the mythology of this verse, I will be happy to answer!
Until next time,
~Elri