|
Japan, Tokyo - Roppongi - March 7, 2004, 11:25 PM (March 7, 2:25 PM, +9:
00)
Ambre ran down the staircases of the nightclub, after she had passed by
the cabin of the naiad. She had borrowed her jean, her sweater and her
jacket; no need to say she had left the girl few chances to protest.
She walked onto the street, furious, with the bad feeling she had just
been the laughing stock of the night.
"Okay, next time I have him to hand, I swear, I'll stop playing nice!" she
hissed, kicking an empty can left on the way. The metal object landed at
the feet of the statue of a fake gold Lion, guardian of the entrance of a
nightclub, which displayed clearly its support to soccer.
Ambre looked at the lion, which seemed to throw a mocking glance at her,
and gave a new kick in the can, sending it on the pavement of Roppongi
Street. Then, she opened wide eyes: over there, on the opposite
sidewalk, heading to the entrance of the subway, was...
“The vampire!” she whispered.
She caught her cell phone and opened it.
“No! It's completely wet!”
She closed the now useless device and looked again at the vampire. He had
stopped near a foreign young woman and seemed to have convinced her to
follow it in the subway.
“Ok, I will take care of him by my own! Ambre, my girl, it's time to take
you in the hand, and to show this greenhorn that he should have given me
more credit than throwing me in a swimming-pool!”
Satisfied with her monologue, she prepared for actions.
Ambre ran flat out to the nearest exit number1 of the Roppongi subway
station. On the other side of Roppongi Street, the vampire was
rushing to the exit 3. She hurried down the staircases, and hid behind a
pillar. She took the pile hidden in her jacket, and observed the vampire
and his drunk partner, who had arrived at the ticket vending machine. The
man held the woman by an arm, while he bought two tickets. Then, they
walked towards the entrance of the Hibiya line. Ambre waited until the
automatic doors open, and sprang at their heels.
The vampire must have felt the danger coming and turned around. But too
late: Ambre had already dug the pile in his chest, straight into the
heart. The vampire moved back, shivered, and ended on his knees. His body
burnt to ashes before dust felt on the ground. The foreign young woman,
unable to stand up by herself, felt on the arms of Ambre, while around
them, passengers were passing by, totally indifferent. Some were in a
hurry to catch the last train, some others, too drunk to realize anything.
Except the employee of the station, sited in his cabin close to the
automatic doors, who looked at Ambre and the young woman with fright,
pointing a frozen-in-motion index in their direction.
“Ano… Ano… Otoko ha…
Otoko ha… 1
“
Ambre shrugged her shoulders, her face outlining a relaxed smile.
“… Mo… ichatta! 2”
Japan, Headquarter of Ermengardis - March 7, 2004, 11:40 PM (March 7, 2:40
PM, +9: 00)
Pavilion Bishamonten, quarters of the Gold knights
Shura threw a glance to Camus: the French seemed to have definitively left
the limbs of his imagination, and had insisted to accompany him to see
Saga. He was ready to bet that the incident between Aiolia and Angelo had
been shocking enough to pull him out from his comatose dreams.
“ I still can’t believe that Aioila attacked Angelo because he believed it
was me…” he said.
“But, indeed, it’s exactly what had happened… “ Camus nodded.
Shura sighed:
“I have to talk with Aiolia…”
“Not this evening! In his current state of mind, he’s dangerous, and
nobody knows what he could attempt… Remember, He almost strangled Angelo…
Besides, the priority is to explain the situation to Saga!”
Camus and Shura arrived to the room number 430 rather quickly. After some
hesitations, Shura took the initiative to knock at the door.
“Yes?” Echoed the familiar voice of Saga from behind.
“Saga! It’s us… Camus and Shura! We really have something important to
discuss about!” said Camus.
“Hold a second!”
The door opened and Saga appeared. In spite of the late hour, he was not
in night suits, still wearing his trousers and shirt, and held a book in
his hand.
“What’s going on?” he asked casually.
“Can we discuss five minutes with you?” asked Shura.
Saga frowned slightly, then beckoned them entering his room. It’s with
surprise that Shura and Camus saw Canon, quietly sited at Saga’s desk,
reading carefully a book. Realizing he was not alone, he turned around and
removed his glasses.
“Hi! You two… What’s up?”
“Canon?”
“We were working on the legend of Marius and his army… You’ve come to help
us?
Shura shook the head.
“No, we wanted to discuss with your brother…” he said, looking at Camus,
in search of support.
This one shook his head, encouraging Shura to carry on with his.
“What’s going on?” asked Saga.
“This evening, Aiolia and Angelo fought against each other. Aphrodite
refuses to leave his room. Sion behaves like a savage and refuses all
communication with us. Mu, Shaka and Aldebaran… Well, they don’t
particularly protest, but I’m afraid they don’t feel very comfortable with
the current situation… Saga! It’s time that we really get united to face
the reality… Our reality. What had happened to us!” gasped Shura.
“You said that… Angelo and Aiolia fought”
“Yes, Aiolia attacked Angelo. He was completely drunk. Dohko is with him
now, and tries to calm him down. Milo brought back Angelo in his room and
is tending him…”
“Oh! No!” Saga sighed “It’s worst that I had ever imagined”
Canon stood slowly from his seat, set his glasses on the desk and walked
to his brother.
“I think that Shura is right… You have to take command, as the leader we
have all chosen…!”
Saga looked down, and took a painful expression.
“Okay, fair enough… “ he said after a good minute of introspection, “Let’s
gather within half an hour in the Living room. Everyone must be there,
except Angelo, if he’s too wounded…Can you inform everybody?”
“Right here, right now!” replied Shura.
“I’m going to help you” declared Canon, before smirking at Saga “Prepare
your speech, brother!”
Saga was too lost in his thoughts and didn’t take care to the door that
closed behind Canon. His threw a glance to the mirror hanged to the wall,
close to the chimney, and saw his reflection. He looked with interest at
the tall man, his long blond hair, his blue eyes, expecting their colors
to change. To see the eyes turning red, the hair becoming a river of
silver. To see the serene expression of his face transforms into the
personification of madness
He started, hearing a noise in the corridor, and looked at the door,
expecting someone to open it. Then he differed his attention to the mirror
again; the man was still staring at him with a sad glance.
Saga sighed:
“It’s over… I’m cured from this madness now…”
He sat down on the carpet, as a tailor, arms crossed on his chest, and
tried to gather his ideas quickly.
Room 418
Angelo led on his back, pressing on his split lip the cloth Milo had just
handed to him. The Greek was sat beside him, and was busy to fix a bandage
at the corner of his right eye.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry… Does it hurt that much?”
“No… Don’t bother! View the point I’ve reached!”
Angelo replied, grimacing with pain.
“Angelo, why didn’t you try to defend yourself?” asked Milo.
“For nothing…”
“Aiolia could have wounded you seriously… Or worse!”
Angelo sighed:
“I’m not Death Mask anymore, okay? And I don’t want to react as he used to
do seventeen years ago!”
“And does it imply being killed without trying to protect your life?”
“Maybe…”
Milo outlined a smile, more reprobating than mocking, and finished
adjusting the bandage.
“By the way, can you tell me why you’re damned here, tending my injuries?”
asked Angelo, wrinkling an eyebrow, anticipating the twitching that was
going to inflict what Milo held in his hand.
“Well, let’s say than less than an hour ago, I eventually understood the
gravity of the situation here. Our group is completely poisoned by
resentment and animosity. I really think we’ve just reached the bottom of
the abyss. And as we reach it all together, we must try to come back to
the surface all together, mustn’t we?”
Angelo didn’t answer, but a weak smile graced his features, before a new
wave of pains brought back new grimaces. Milo had just pressed a cotton
soaked with 90-degree-alcohol on a wound of his swollen face. The Greek
remained concentrated on this task until somebody knocked at the door.
Camus stick his head out of the doorway, then entered.
“Is he feeling better?”
Angelo raised a hand:
“Yes, still alive…”
“Saga calls us for a meeting within half-an-hour, in the living room of
the Bishamonten Pavilion… Do you think you can join, or you’d better stay
here and have some rest?”
Angelo managed to raise his bust, supporting his weight on his front arm
levers, grinning with pain. Milo helped him to put himself in sitting
position.
“Well, it’s a start to answer your question…” whispered pitifully the
Italian.
“At this late hour, a meeting? What’s going on?” asked Milo.
Camus took his most serious expression:
“Our leader has just decided to take things in hands…”
Room 425
“So, have you calmed down?” asked Dohko, leaning against the wall of the
room. Opposite to him, Aiolia was sat on his bed, his glance lost in
vacuum.
“I am so sorry, Dohko” he whispered..
“I know… But it’s not to me you have to apologize… But to Angelo. You
bashed him seriously!”
Aiolia sighed:
“Yes… Yes… I’m going to apologize to him… Of course!”
“And now, will you tell me why you went out of control that much?”
Aiolia hid his face in his hands.
“I was drunk… That’s all…”
“Maybe I have another answer to give… It’s not the first time that you
display such animosity toward Angelo, mainly, but also toward Shura,
Aphrodite, Saga, and even Camus… So, what’s your problem?”
“Can you imagine how hard it’s for me to accept they are back to life,
while my brother is definitely dead!” he replied of a trembling voice.
“They were knights of Athena, like you and me. They fought bravely during
the last Holy War… And at our sides, even if it looked like they were
enemies” protested Dohko.
Aiolia raised his head and looked at Dohko. His eyes were bathed with
tears.
“It’s their past I can’t forgive them. Shura killed my brother. Aphrodite
and Death Mask behaved in a way that I’ve always thought unbearable with
the name of Gold Saints. They were the shame of the Sanctuary!” he spat
“Saga and Canon made a private battle field of the Sanctuary, and… Camus…
Camus is the coldest person I’ve ever seen, so cold and heartless than I
don’t think he deserves the title of human beings!”
“Aiolia, the past is the past, and nobody can change it. But you have to
put up with it if you want to build up your future. And in the situation
we are currently stuck in, you really need to look in front of you, and
not behind, if you want to survive!”
Aiolia sighed. A tear rolled on his cheek.
“I… I understand”
Dohko swiftly moved from the door as he heard somebody knocking to. He
opened it and found with surprise Canon, still holding his hand.
“You’re quick!” he said, bemused.
“Canon, what’s going on?”
“ Meeting at twelve past fifteen in the Great Lounge. Our beloved leader
as few words to tell us… “
“ At last, he decided to undertake his function!” sighed Dohko with
relief.
“Looks like” nodded Canon “ I’m going to call the others also…”
The youngest of the Gemini waved friendly at him, and went to the neighbor
door to knock out.
Dohko closed the door, and turned to Aiolia, who was drying the tears from
his cheeks.
“We’re going to see if you had really understood…”
Japan, Tokyo - Roppongi - March 8,2004, 0:10 PM (March 7, 3:10 PM, +9: 00)
“Have you found him?” asked Shina.
“No!”
Thetis kicked the bottom of a stair with rage.
“But where the hell has he gone!”
“Consumed in smoke, one hour ago, in front of the tracks of the Hibiya
line!” answered a happy voice the two women would recognize among
thousands.
“Ambre!” they both called at the same time.
A silhouette uncovered slowly from the darkness of the corner of the
street, showing blazing red hair.
“Yes, it’s me…” giggled Ambre, outlining the V of victory with her index
and major.
“You… Killed him?” asked Thetis feverishly.
“Yep! And in one blow”
“ But how? When? Where?” questioned Shina, almost impatient.
Ambre affected a mysterious expression.
“Eh well, I was shaking on me at the bottom of the stairs, like somebody
who has just fallen into the giant aquarium of a strip club, when I saw
our batboy heading to the subway, a little goose set at his arm…”
“And then…?”
“And then… I followed him on the subway… And I reduced him to piles of
hashes!” concluded Ambre triumphal.
Shina felt something like a headache blossoming under her scull. She knew
Ambre was not exactly a “modest winner”.
“Something tells me we will hear this story many times!” she sighed.
“Very well… And now, what do we do? We go back to the hotel?” asked Thetis.
Shina nodded at the idea.
“Out of question!” exclaimed Ambre, grabbing her two friends by the arm.
“I’ve found a very nice place to end this thrilling night!”
“And may we know when you found time to search for a place to end the
night?” asked Thetis, suspicious.
Ambre smiled apologetically.
“Actually, my portable phone was completely wet, and I couldn’t contact
you… You know very well that I am not good at memorizing phone numbers…
So, to make short… I told myself that it would be difficult to find you in
the area… And… That I should enjoy the place… I finally entered the first
club that was on my way… Just here… ”
“Here?” asked Shina, dubitative.
“Here!” Ambre answered, pushing them to the corner of the street.
They then saw the entrance of a club, modestly decorated with a small
bench and a light marking surrounding the name of the bar.
“I am sure you’re
going to enjoy it!” declared Ambre, pushing further Shina and Thetis,
frightened by the corny aspect of the place.
Japan,
District General of Ermengardis - March 8,2004, 0:20 PM (March 7, 3:20 PM,
+9: 00)
Bishamonten house, Great Living room
The gaze of Saga came to rest on the swollen-face of Angelo. The Italian
had sat down one of the leather couches, and was staring at emptiness, his
eyes half open. Camus was sat behind him, on the large armrest. Close to
him stood Milo and Shura, who looked discreetly in the direction of
Aiolia. The Greek was leaning against a big bookrack, under the close
observation of Dohko.
Beside Angelo, sited him also on the couch, was Aphrodite. The young
Swedish seemed to be completely asleep. Like Camus, Mu had sat on the
armrest, and held Aphrodite by a shoulder. Sion, Shakka and Aldebaran were
just behind him.
Saga threw a glance to Canon, standing not far from him. His younger
brother nodded slightly, encouraging him to speak.
“Everybody, I asked you to gather here tonight… “
His voice was hesitating and strangely screechy. ‘Pathetic’ he even
thought. Saga cleared his throat, and looked again at his brother, who
renewed his encouraging nod.
“I summoned you here, because you have chosen me as your leader, and thus,
it’s my duty to take the reins of the team we all form together”
In front of him the glances were interrogative. Saga sighed: undoubtedly,
and to his dismay, he would have to go really straight to the point.
“Okay, listen now. I know that most of you will never forgive what I’ve
done at the Sanctuary. That even among you all, exist resent and vengeance
desires. But I think it’s time to put aside the past… We’ve got offered a
chance that no human before us had had; resurrection. Just don’t let it
waste!”
Saga stopped to check if his words were ringing a bell. He realized that
in fact, all the glances were set on him, and that his old pars were now
listening with much care.
“We are likely also to be able to serve justice once again, by joining the
ranks of Ermengardis. Another chance that we should not waste!” he added.
“I agree!” exclaimed Dohko.
“And for this reason, I cannot tolerate any more that some of you waste
this chance just for revenge purpose, or fall into violence or despair. Do
I make my self understand?
A rumor of approval traversed the assembly.
“Good… We will make another meeting tomorrow morning, here, at 8 a.m.
sharp. I will present you my plans concerning the way we could help the
Order of Ermengardis…”
Saga breathed heavily and concluded:
“This meeting his over. See you tomorrow!”
Whispered welcomed this announces and all the attendants made their way to
the exit.
Aiolia dragged his feet to the door when he recognized the back of Angelo,
who limped, supported by Shura.
“Angelo!”
Angelo and Shura both froze on the threshold of the door.
“Angelo! I am sorry! I swear I will never attack you!”.
Angelo just turned around and half-smiled.
“I know! Because next time you try, I won’t let you do it!”
Japan,
Tokyo - Roppongi - March 8, 2004, 0:30 PM (March 7, 3:30 PM, +9: 00)
Shina was leaning at the bar, looking absently to the waiter, who poured
skillfully a milky white cocktail in her glass. She gave him a one
thousand yen note, and dismissed him by asking him to keep the change.
Alone again, she drank a mouthful and let her gaze coming back to its
emptiness.
“Sweet dreams are made off this
Who am I to disagree?” 3
“So what? What’s going on with you, boss?” asked Ambre. She was coming
back from the dance floor, and her voice was cheerful.
“Nothing… Nothing at all…”
Ambre set a hand on her shoulder as a sign of comfort.
“Oh, really? Nothing… Shina, you are a very bad actress… It’s as plain as
the nose on your face that’s there’s something bothering you!”
Shina sighed.
“It’s Seiya… I saw him yesterday evening, and…”
“And of course, you feel down…” sighed Ambre. “Still single and in love
with a girl who doesn’t love him?”
“Yes, still single…and… in love, of Saori Kido…”
“I see…”
“Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them off want to be abused”
“Forget him…!” spat Ambre.
Shina couldn’t help but blinking in surprise.
“What?”
“Forget him! He’s not interested in you; his feelings go to another… Okay,
it’s hard, but for Christ sake, forget him… Look at your future, now, or
you’ll wait forever a someone who will never come… Just think to all the
men who dream to know you!”
“But…”
Shina smiled, trying to hide her embarrassment. She had not expected a so
direct talk with Ambre.
“For example, just think to the thirteen top models that are waiting us at
the Headquarters… For someone who is fond of men from the Sanctuary, this
is just perfect! Well, right, they’ve been once dead, and then brought bag
to life. They are quite asocial, grumpy, a bit psycho and undoubtedly
lost… A true chance, isn’t!” laughed Ambre, winking at her.
Shina couldn’t prevent from smiling.
“Do you feel better now?”
“Yes, I feel better. Thank you Ambre!”
“Good, let’s just celebrate this!”
“Ambre beckoned the waiter to come to her. The young man, embedded in a
flashy yellow T-shirt, smiled and caught a menu, but Ambre pushed back the
paperboard.
“Champaign, please!”
“Sweet dreams are made off this
Who am I to disagree? ”
Greece,
Terrestrial Sanctuary of Olympia - March 8,2004, 08:40 PM (March 7, 6:40
PM, +2: 00)
Temple
of Apollo
Apollo rubbed nervously one of the flowers of the rose tree next to the
marble bench he was so used to seat down. He stared once again anxiously
at the entrance of the garden, wondering if the beauty haunting his mind –
and it was hard for him to recognize it ; his heart - for several days now
would appear.
A familiar silk rustle made him startle. He raised his eyes in the
direction of the entrance, and to his joy, saw Ishara, waiting timidly
outside.
“Please, come Ishara… I would be happy if you join me tonight” he spoke
softly. He had all the sorrows of the world to contain his smile, so much
joy submerging him.
Ishara walked in, her head keeping lowered in a graceful bow, throwing
from time to time a shy glance in the direction of Apollo. The God of
Music covered her with his amber gaze, a smile gracing his handsome
features.
However, Ishara was afraid. Was she going to be trapped again in the
swirls of her madness? She closed her eyes, then reopened them almost at
once and noted with pleasure that the scene was unchanged: Apollo was
still smiling to her in the middle of a garden of flowers. She beat
eyelids, reassured and certain of a thing: the curse that had plagued her
existence for centuries was over…
It took all his will to Apollo to seat down, and refrain the desire to
take the so beautiful creature in his arms. Ishara was still bowing in
front of him, holding her mandolin in a hand, a tail of her blue-purple
dress in the other. Remembering the protocol, he returned her safety by a
slight bow of the head.
Ishara adjusted the mandolin against her shoulder, and stroke the cords. A
light music flied out from her hands. She threw a glance to Apollo, in
order to see whether he appreciated the music as much as he had
appreciated it some days before. The expression of God of the music
surprised her: while last time, he had seemed being totally under the
spell of the sound of the instrument, this time, he looked totally
indifferent to the melody. He was just staring at her, eyes glittering
with fire… Ishara almost felt that wings were pushing on her back, and her
fingers danced with unrestrained fever on the cords of the mandolin. She
closed her eyes to recompose herself.
But when she reopened them, a cry of fear escaped her throat, and she
dropped her instrument at her feet, shivering with pure terror.
“No! It can’t be! It’s impossible!” Ishara exclaimed.
In front of her, stood Amalric, a cocky smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, what are you afraid of, my love? Are you surprised to see me again?”
Amalric laughed, catching Ishara by the waist. “Surprised? Happy?”
Ishara continued to look at him, rolling of round and frightened eyes.
“Yes, you feel guilty, don’t you?
Ishara shook her head:
“No, I loved you, and only you…
“Really… Then, do you remember that evening?”
Amalric tightened his grip against her waist, shoving here against his
chest. Then, he forced her to turn around, and looked at un unreal scene
that took place on a fire-like reddish background.
“Look… And remember… “He whispered malevolently at her hear.
Ishara sought Apollo hopelessly, but did not find him. Instead of the
garden, the decoration the room of the castle appeared…
Ishara freed herself from the arms of Gàbor, tears shining in her eyes and
cheeks.
“I am sorry Gàbor…It’s the curse…”
Gàbor looked at her, smiling softly.
“Forget this curse, Ishara. You are here… I am here… There is nothing we
have to take care of, except us”
He stroked the face of the Babylonian, before planting a kiss on her lips.
He broke off, admiring with a lazy smile the beauty of his lover.
“Amalric,
I’m so happy to be in your arms!” she said, the light of her eyes
scrambling through the tears.
The expression of Gàbor changed from pure contempt to utter anger.
Tightening his fists, he tried to contain his rage, to no avail.
“Amalric!” repeated Ishara, her glance now dim and vague.
That was more than he could suffer! Gàbor grasped one of the vases set on
the edge of the chimney, and threw it to the ground. Then, as stimulated
by the noise of broken pottery, he swept all the objects that were at his
grasp.
“Will you never love me? Will you stop thinking of him, one day? He’s
lost, destroyed!”
Gàbor approached Ishara, who was trembling at the sight of her lover
becoming crazy. .
“He had disappeared… Forever! It will never return. Do you understand
that?”
His grip set on the vampire woman’s shoulders, firm and menacing. .
“He won’t return… But me, I am here!”
The gloved hands loosened their strong pressure, one sliding on the back
of Ishara, the other, grasping her waist. Tears started to flee from the
eyes of Gàbor, as his body sank into the embrace.
“Don’t you see me, Ishara? I only exist for you… To be with you… To see
your smile… Feel your presence near me… But you don’t see anything of it,
Ishara…”
Ishara snuggled deeper against the chest of her lover.
“Forgive me, Gàbor, my love… It’s the curse…”
“Cursed… I condemn you to damnation for eternity… One will leave only to
love without mind the lost one, and the other one, to be transformed into
a statue, and remain prisoner of the cold pain forever…”The words of Adalbert returned to the
memory of Ishara: these words, heard in a dark lane of medieval Paris…
That evening, some hundreds years ago…
“Yes, the evening our destiny has been sealed… Me, to nothingness, you, to
the life…” Amalric whispered.
“No! My life had been only pain and madness without you!”
“Oh! No lie! I might look totally insensitive to the world; however, I
could see you, Ishara… I could see you, Gàbor and you!”
Almost pleading, Ishara grasped the hands of Amalric.
“I tried to stay loyal to you, I swear… But there was no hope you would
come back…”
Amalric smiled mockingly.
“I wonder with how many men you would have finished if there hadn’t been
the curse to stop you!”
“Only one! Only one!” replied Ishara between two sobs.
The expression of Amalric turned to sadness:
“Yes, and unfortunately, I believe I know his name…”
He cupped Ishara’s face in his hands, forcing her to turn her head in the
direction where Apollo was previously. Ishara saw the silhouette of the
God emerging from an orange halation.
“Gàbor is back among the livings, Ishara… And only some months separate me
from my resurrection… murmured Amalric languorously.
”It’s impossible!”
”Oh, you believe so? And when the day of my return comes, I will make you
pay, you, my love, and Gàbor, my blood, the price of your treachery!”
”No, wait… You are misleading!”
”But until that blessed day, I am going to enjoy your little game with the
God of Music… How long will it take you to destroy him?”
“No!” howled Ishara.
She felt her legs couldn’t carry her any longer, and slid on her knees. In
front of her, the silhouette of Apollo wavered.
“Please, help me!” she begged.
”Ishara! Ishara!”
The voice of Apollo brought back her to consciousness gently, and she
opened her eyes. She felt the tender glance of the God of music hanged on
her, concern obvious.
”Ishara?”
”Yes, my God, I am here… “Ishara answered weakly.
It’s then she realized she was half lying on the ground, half on the arms
of Apollo.
”What happened to me?” she enquired.
”You fell… You was playing music, and suddenly you screamed, you fell and
called me for help!”
”I am sorry to have caused you concern, O God Apollo” she faltered out.
She felt Apollo raised her from the ground, and set her forehead in the
crook of his neck. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, letting him carry her
in the warm and safe place that were his arms.
Then lips met her soft lips. When she reopened the eyes, she realized that
the God was kissing her gently, almost timidly.
He broke off more quickly than she would have liked, and stared at her
almost imploringly.
”Do you allow me, Ishara?”
Ishara looked at him with surprise, then her glance wandered over the
garden, in the search of the hateful glare of Amalric. But she didn’t find
it.
“Yes, my God” she whispered.
Apollo felt his heart was to break his chest. Never had he felt such a joy
before…
”Ishara, my beloved…”
And his lips graced Ishara’s once again, in a kiss as tender as the
trouble in his heart could allow him.
Hidden behind a column, Jabu didn’t loose anything of the scene that was
taken place under his eyes. He saw the God raising from the ground the
frail young woman, and moving towards his temple. Who could she be?
Jabu pulled down his hood to cover his face and moved away discreetly,
taking care nobody sees him: tomorrow, he would return to spy God Apollo.
(1): “The man… The
man…” in Japanese.
(2): “He’s gone” in
Japanese
(3): words of “Sweet
Dreams” by Eurythmics.
|
