[30² StS Themes] Shura - To fight once more - Chapter Two
Title: To fight once more - Chapter Two
Author: undertheice
Character: Shura
List: A
Themes: #1 - Goddess, #2 - mask, #3 - Meeting again (Bonus theme, on exchange for #19 - Blindfold), #14 - Thirteen years, #30 - Dagger
Words: 1938
Chapter One - The place that sees him wake up
Chapter Two - Those who seek redemption
With his foot he touched the plate that had been placed in front of him more than an hour ago, still disgusted at the sight of the food shaking like gelatin. It was not his first meal in the Underworld, but it was just as difficult to accept it.
Shura held his stomach tight with one hand while he dipped the other into the strange consistency, feeling the cold and humid texture surrounding it. His fingers formed a ball with the food and, without a second thought, he pushed it into his mouth, swallowing hard before he could taste it. He threw his hand towards his mouth, pressing it so everything that was supposed to stay inside did so. Heavy coughing followed his attempt, tears escaping as result.
His gaze didn’t stay on the plate for more than a second before he slapped it away, the food ending on the wall across the room with a splat, followed later by the sound of a crash and of pieces falling to the ground.
Shura had no time to regret his action. Once he had finished struggling with his stomach, the door slammed open. There was no need for him to look to know who it was. The guards, whose names he couldn’t bother himself to learn, came in to provide the reminder of where he was and how should he behave.
Though their beating didn’t last long, the pain they caused would linger much longer. He had long ago decided to accept everything as what he deserved for betraying the goddess and Aiolos, but every time they punished him, he had to bit his lip and dig his nails into his palms to control his desire to fight back.
If that is what Athena and Aiolos demanded in order to forgive him, then he would stand everything.
During the time he spent in solitude, Shura began to pay a more detailed attention to the only thing that changed during his imprisonment: the moon. Its phases were different from those it had in Athena’s territories; there was no moment where he couldn’t see it. The fact that the full moon lasted for weeks was the one thing that caught his attention the most. At times he wondered if it was artificial, made by Hades to satisfy his own selfish craving of having a world just like the one Athena had.
It was one of the many rhetorical questions he voiced to no one else but him, in hopes of finding something to entertain his mind with. He spent his days like that, observing from the comfort of the cell’s corner the moon that shone from behind the bars, just like he had watched it from the stairs of his temple.
Twenty-three years lived in vain, thirteen of which he had an existence that now he despised. What had he been but a traitor who wore the mask of a loyal warrior?
No matter how hard he thought, he could never find a reason for why everything had gone as wrong as it did. The alarm rang through the Sanctuary, Aiolos had been declared a traitor and he had done what any other Saint would have when faced with someone that had tried to harm the goddess.
Things like that do not happen by themselves alone, that much he knew. But there were too many questions and too little answers for him to even begin to form an explanation of what had truly happened.
Shura rubbed his arms, letting some of his nails dig deep into his skin. He didn’t believe that if he could understand everything, he’d be able to rest, but… Didn’t he have the right to at least have that peace of mind?
“This is useless… For how long will I hope for something? Has it not been enough?”
Talking to himself was another behavior he had acquired with the pass of the weeks. He was afraid of forgetting how to speak, even when he had lived much of his life in the silence of his temple. At least one word every two days, that had been his initial idea. But the more full moons he observed, the longer the phrases became.
When the guards spoke to him though, he never answered. That way, silence had become his second language. It was the proof that he was still a Saint of Athena, one that would not bow down to the abuse of power of Hades and his servants. One that had sworn loyalty to the Goddess and not even in death would he stop to follow his oath.
It was many moons later that he exchanged words with someone that wasn’t himself. The door had been slammed open the same way as always but this time it was not the two guards who carried his food inside, but two figures covered by a black cape. Shura didn’t move from the corner of his cell but he raised his cosmo, ready to protect himself if needed.
The stranger that had entered last walked out of the room for a moment, before coming back with the two guards hanging unconscious from each of his hands. Shura remained still, ready to react, but the surprise of seeing his two captors, the only ones he had seen for such a long time, unconscious right in front left him numb.
“Who are you?” His throat hurt as he spoke, having to force it to speak.
The first figure knelt in front of him. His fingers held the hood over his head, as if he were hesitating, but with one movement he pulled it back. A sharp intake of breath was everything Shura managed to do before he felt his vision blurring.
“Shura!”
His name being called out by that voice was something he hadn’t heard for over thirteen years. He was sure that he had fallen asleep somewhere along the day without realizing, and this was nothing more than a dream. It just couldn’t be that Saga of Gemini stood right in front of him, in the Underworld. Where had he been when everything happened? Where had he been when they had made so many mistakes?
“Saga?” he whispered, his body supported by the arms that had caught his fall. The Gemini Saint nodded in response and helped him sit on the cell’s floor.
“Why are you here?” Shura asked, his gaze having trouble to focus on the eyes that looked back at him, with so many mixed emotions that the Capricorn Saint would have never been able to read them.
“Could it be… That you died that night too, thirteen years ago?”
Through his blurry gaze he couldn’t see the way Saga’s expression changed but he could feel his tension in the way his fingers held him, as if he were clinging to him. For a moment the older man looked as if he were going to answer but instead he leaned Shura against one of the walls and stood up, walking towards the exit. Taking this as a sign to take care of the rest, the other hooded figure knelt next to Shura. Pulling the hood back, the face of the Aquarius Saint could be seen.
“Camus,” Shura whispered. With a firm shake of his head he began to pull himself together, his organism regaining part of its strength. “What is going on? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me, you too…”
“Yes, I too died in that battle.” Camus terse answer provided Shura a strange sensation of comfort. The fact that the Aquarius Saint sounded just like he remembered him dissipated much of his confusion.
“Ah, those children… They are really strong, aren’t they?” The wistful tone of his own voice surprised him but as he remembered the heated battle with Shiryu and the words they shared as they soared to the skies, the desolation in his mind began to ease. Sacrificing his life to save that boy had been the right decision and only a small compensation for all the pain he had caused to others.
“It’s not the time to think of those days, Shura. We need you to come with us. The Sanctuary and Athena are in danger and it’s up to us, the Saints that are now in the Underworld, to protect them.”
Shura listened in silence, absorbing the words one by one. For him though, there was nothing to think about. His duty as a warrior never ended, not even after his death. As long as the goddess needed him, he would exist.
“Of course I will go with you,” he said and stood up, his energies coming back to him at a pace much too slow for his liking. He began to drag himself towards the cell’s door, his hand resting on the shoulder Camus had offered him, and stopped just a few steps before they were out.
“But first, I have to know one thing. Tell me what happened... Tell me what caused such chaos to befall to the Sanctuary.”
Saga turned his head slowly towards him, his face yet again filled with those emotions Shura couldn’t even begin to decipher. The Capricorn Saint had prepared himself for the truth he desired so much to know, but he could have never been prepared enough for what he heard next.
“It was me. I did it all. I murdered the Pope and took his place,” Saga looked away for a second, then he met Shura’s unreadable gaze. Even when the Gemini Saint tried to control himself, the tremble in his hands would not stop. “I raised that dagger at Athena when she was a mere baby and blamed Aiolos, I…”
There was a pause where Saga tried to stop his voice from wavering but by then the uncontrollable shaking had taken over his entire body. When he saw Shura’s expression hardening, his gaze showing the anger that was building up inside him, while his fists remained clenched at both sides of his body, Saga knew that he could not go back anymore.
“Everything was my doing, Shura.”
Without warning Saga found himself on the ground, breathless, as Shura took out the sudden vortex of rage upon him. The punches began to lose strength soon, as the Capricorn Saint found himself falling into unconsciousness. But even after his last ounce of energy vanished, he continued, his hand falling limp on top of the other man’s chest each time.
“You traitor…” he whispered before slipping away, his body falling on his side on the ground.
Without a word Camus picked him up. He couldn’t hide his surprise as he noticed just how thin Shura had gotten, some of his bones easily felt through his torn clothes. With utmost care he let him lie on the floor, using the cape he had been wearing to form a pillow.
“I deserve an anger much greater than that,” Saga whispered as he took off his own cape and handed it to Camus. The Aquarius Saint accepted it with a nod and covered part of Shura’s body with it.
“It’s not the time to dwell on that, Saga,” Camus reminded him, a stern gaze confronting Saga’s troubled eyes.
“Even if I do this, Athena will not forgive me…” The Gemini Saint answered, turning his face towards the small window on the cell.
“Saga, Shura will forgive--” Camus began to reply but stopped when Saga shook his head before he could continue.
“No, Camus. He won’t.“ Saga’s voice had regained it’s usual confidence and a bitter smile appeared on his face.
“For someone like me, there is no forgiveness.”
Author: undertheice
Character: Shura
List: A
Themes: #1 - Goddess, #2 - mask, #3 - Meeting again (Bonus theme, on exchange for #19 - Blindfold), #14 - Thirteen years, #30 - Dagger
Words: 1938
Chapter One - The place that sees him wake up
Chapter Two - Those who seek redemption
With his foot he touched the plate that had been placed in front of him more than an hour ago, still disgusted at the sight of the food shaking like gelatin. It was not his first meal in the Underworld, but it was just as difficult to accept it.
Shura held his stomach tight with one hand while he dipped the other into the strange consistency, feeling the cold and humid texture surrounding it. His fingers formed a ball with the food and, without a second thought, he pushed it into his mouth, swallowing hard before he could taste it. He threw his hand towards his mouth, pressing it so everything that was supposed to stay inside did so. Heavy coughing followed his attempt, tears escaping as result.
His gaze didn’t stay on the plate for more than a second before he slapped it away, the food ending on the wall across the room with a splat, followed later by the sound of a crash and of pieces falling to the ground.
Shura had no time to regret his action. Once he had finished struggling with his stomach, the door slammed open. There was no need for him to look to know who it was. The guards, whose names he couldn’t bother himself to learn, came in to provide the reminder of where he was and how should he behave.
Though their beating didn’t last long, the pain they caused would linger much longer. He had long ago decided to accept everything as what he deserved for betraying the goddess and Aiolos, but every time they punished him, he had to bit his lip and dig his nails into his palms to control his desire to fight back.
If that is what Athena and Aiolos demanded in order to forgive him, then he would stand everything.
During the time he spent in solitude, Shura began to pay a more detailed attention to the only thing that changed during his imprisonment: the moon. Its phases were different from those it had in Athena’s territories; there was no moment where he couldn’t see it. The fact that the full moon lasted for weeks was the one thing that caught his attention the most. At times he wondered if it was artificial, made by Hades to satisfy his own selfish craving of having a world just like the one Athena had.
It was one of the many rhetorical questions he voiced to no one else but him, in hopes of finding something to entertain his mind with. He spent his days like that, observing from the comfort of the cell’s corner the moon that shone from behind the bars, just like he had watched it from the stairs of his temple.
Twenty-three years lived in vain, thirteen of which he had an existence that now he despised. What had he been but a traitor who wore the mask of a loyal warrior?
No matter how hard he thought, he could never find a reason for why everything had gone as wrong as it did. The alarm rang through the Sanctuary, Aiolos had been declared a traitor and he had done what any other Saint would have when faced with someone that had tried to harm the goddess.
Things like that do not happen by themselves alone, that much he knew. But there were too many questions and too little answers for him to even begin to form an explanation of what had truly happened.
Shura rubbed his arms, letting some of his nails dig deep into his skin. He didn’t believe that if he could understand everything, he’d be able to rest, but… Didn’t he have the right to at least have that peace of mind?
“This is useless… For how long will I hope for something? Has it not been enough?”
Talking to himself was another behavior he had acquired with the pass of the weeks. He was afraid of forgetting how to speak, even when he had lived much of his life in the silence of his temple. At least one word every two days, that had been his initial idea. But the more full moons he observed, the longer the phrases became.
When the guards spoke to him though, he never answered. That way, silence had become his second language. It was the proof that he was still a Saint of Athena, one that would not bow down to the abuse of power of Hades and his servants. One that had sworn loyalty to the Goddess and not even in death would he stop to follow his oath.
It was many moons later that he exchanged words with someone that wasn’t himself. The door had been slammed open the same way as always but this time it was not the two guards who carried his food inside, but two figures covered by a black cape. Shura didn’t move from the corner of his cell but he raised his cosmo, ready to protect himself if needed.
The stranger that had entered last walked out of the room for a moment, before coming back with the two guards hanging unconscious from each of his hands. Shura remained still, ready to react, but the surprise of seeing his two captors, the only ones he had seen for such a long time, unconscious right in front left him numb.
“Who are you?” His throat hurt as he spoke, having to force it to speak.
The first figure knelt in front of him. His fingers held the hood over his head, as if he were hesitating, but with one movement he pulled it back. A sharp intake of breath was everything Shura managed to do before he felt his vision blurring.
“Shura!”
His name being called out by that voice was something he hadn’t heard for over thirteen years. He was sure that he had fallen asleep somewhere along the day without realizing, and this was nothing more than a dream. It just couldn’t be that Saga of Gemini stood right in front of him, in the Underworld. Where had he been when everything happened? Where had he been when they had made so many mistakes?
“Saga?” he whispered, his body supported by the arms that had caught his fall. The Gemini Saint nodded in response and helped him sit on the cell’s floor.
“Why are you here?” Shura asked, his gaze having trouble to focus on the eyes that looked back at him, with so many mixed emotions that the Capricorn Saint would have never been able to read them.
“Could it be… That you died that night too, thirteen years ago?”
Through his blurry gaze he couldn’t see the way Saga’s expression changed but he could feel his tension in the way his fingers held him, as if he were clinging to him. For a moment the older man looked as if he were going to answer but instead he leaned Shura against one of the walls and stood up, walking towards the exit. Taking this as a sign to take care of the rest, the other hooded figure knelt next to Shura. Pulling the hood back, the face of the Aquarius Saint could be seen.
“Camus,” Shura whispered. With a firm shake of his head he began to pull himself together, his organism regaining part of its strength. “What is going on? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me, you too…”
“Yes, I too died in that battle.” Camus terse answer provided Shura a strange sensation of comfort. The fact that the Aquarius Saint sounded just like he remembered him dissipated much of his confusion.
“Ah, those children… They are really strong, aren’t they?” The wistful tone of his own voice surprised him but as he remembered the heated battle with Shiryu and the words they shared as they soared to the skies, the desolation in his mind began to ease. Sacrificing his life to save that boy had been the right decision and only a small compensation for all the pain he had caused to others.
“It’s not the time to think of those days, Shura. We need you to come with us. The Sanctuary and Athena are in danger and it’s up to us, the Saints that are now in the Underworld, to protect them.”
Shura listened in silence, absorbing the words one by one. For him though, there was nothing to think about. His duty as a warrior never ended, not even after his death. As long as the goddess needed him, he would exist.
“Of course I will go with you,” he said and stood up, his energies coming back to him at a pace much too slow for his liking. He began to drag himself towards the cell’s door, his hand resting on the shoulder Camus had offered him, and stopped just a few steps before they were out.
“But first, I have to know one thing. Tell me what happened... Tell me what caused such chaos to befall to the Sanctuary.”
Saga turned his head slowly towards him, his face yet again filled with those emotions Shura couldn’t even begin to decipher. The Capricorn Saint had prepared himself for the truth he desired so much to know, but he could have never been prepared enough for what he heard next.
“It was me. I did it all. I murdered the Pope and took his place,” Saga looked away for a second, then he met Shura’s unreadable gaze. Even when the Gemini Saint tried to control himself, the tremble in his hands would not stop. “I raised that dagger at Athena when she was a mere baby and blamed Aiolos, I…”
There was a pause where Saga tried to stop his voice from wavering but by then the uncontrollable shaking had taken over his entire body. When he saw Shura’s expression hardening, his gaze showing the anger that was building up inside him, while his fists remained clenched at both sides of his body, Saga knew that he could not go back anymore.
“Everything was my doing, Shura.”
Without warning Saga found himself on the ground, breathless, as Shura took out the sudden vortex of rage upon him. The punches began to lose strength soon, as the Capricorn Saint found himself falling into unconsciousness. But even after his last ounce of energy vanished, he continued, his hand falling limp on top of the other man’s chest each time.
“You traitor…” he whispered before slipping away, his body falling on his side on the ground.
Without a word Camus picked him up. He couldn’t hide his surprise as he noticed just how thin Shura had gotten, some of his bones easily felt through his torn clothes. With utmost care he let him lie on the floor, using the cape he had been wearing to form a pillow.
“I deserve an anger much greater than that,” Saga whispered as he took off his own cape and handed it to Camus. The Aquarius Saint accepted it with a nod and covered part of Shura’s body with it.
“It’s not the time to dwell on that, Saga,” Camus reminded him, a stern gaze confronting Saga’s troubled eyes.
“Even if I do this, Athena will not forgive me…” The Gemini Saint answered, turning his face towards the small window on the cell.
“Saga, Shura will forgive--” Camus began to reply but stopped when Saga shook his head before he could continue.
“No, Camus. He won’t.“ Saga’s voice had regained it’s usual confidence and a bitter smile appeared on his face.
“For someone like me, there is no forgiveness.”