// The Rose and the Arrow  Part 1

Chapter 2 - The first impression

It was Sunday morning – but there was really nothing special about Sundays, since all days were quite the same, full of hard hours of training and fighting, and too rarely resting – when Aeolos received the Pope’s message, summoning him. He then left his house after talking to Aeolia, but didn’t put his cloth on, since he didn’t find it necessary.

After reaching the Pope’s temple, he went straight to him and without having to face any kind of questions made by the soldiers. He stepped in, took a bow and, getting down on one knee, introduced himself. He also found Saga standing in the same position. Both the Pope and his friend seemed to be waiting for him.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Aeolos. Please wait some more for the other saint, will you? She’s a bit late."

“Saint? She?”, he thought. He had seen so few female saints in his whole life that it seemed quite weird having to share the room with one of them. They trained apart from men, lived in houses at a separate area and weren’t allowed to access either the twelve temples or the Pope’s room freely. Aeolos tried to picture a way of getting that woman there, but soon his reflections were interrupted by screams and yelling coming from outside.

"Get out of my way!" a husky voice stormed in. A thundering roar followed her request, the gates were opened wide and a guard was thrown forwards, falling down to the ground and being dragged a few more meters on. He stood up moaning, lift his face up and shouted out furiously:

"I hate you, your naughty saint!"

"Naughty saint?!" a woman replied, walking back and stepping over the poor man’s hands and head. "I demand respectful manners when you talk to me! For your concern, I was summoned here! I haven’t run away, nor escaped anywhere, nor disobey anyone! Are you new around here?! I practically live inside this room, I..."

"Lyre Weren."

She was silenced by the Pope’s calling.

"Yes, sir!" she immediately bent, though she didn’t take her boots’ heels off the soldier’s crushed fingers.

"Please, try to act respectfully at least when you’re in the presence of other saints."

Beside Aeolos, who was quite surprised himself, Saga was shaking his head negatively, his eyes closed and his expression truly serious.

"Do you know her, Saga?" he asked.

"And don’t you?!" Saga sounded even more astonished than Aeolos. "Haven’t you ever heard her yells, the tales people tell about her? Come on, do you really live here on Earth?!"

"I just don’t care that much about everybody else’s lives." he glanced behind once more, sure to be watching one of the most funny scenes ever.

"Sir, please..." the soldier kept on groaning. "Take her off... me..." tears of pain rolled down his crooked face.

"Lyre, will you..."

"Uh... Very well, s..." she seemed really willing to move away, but before she did the guard pulled his own hand back and made her lose her balance, close to falling and practically hitting her face against the floor. Yet more furious than she was before, she stood up quickly and no further looks were required to conclude she could spit fire through her mouth anytime then.

"You idiot! See what you’ve done?! You could have hurt me, you stupid insect..." she definitely wasn’t meant to finish any statement that day. What shut her up that time was again the noise of the huge gates, but  being closed up. With a mind command the Pope locked them, what left Lyre staring at the wall, talking to no one. She turned back embarrassed and walked towards the two saints, kneeling down speechlessly.

"So, now that the circus has been closed down and Lyre has quit her unusual pathetic performance, we may start our meeting subjects."

“So she’s called Lyre Weren...” along with the news, some distant memories came to Aeolos. He recalled that female saint, standing behind the Pope, mute, watching as he wandered through the dry soil and the columns... It was her! The voice, the same voice... But how could she manage to remain young? There was nothing different in her body, not a centimeter added, no wrinkles, no scars. “Must be getting crazy, or had a dream... That’s it.”

"It wasn’t a dream." the saint whispered all of a sudden. He looked at her astounded as his jaws dropped. Would it be possible that, in spite of looking so dumb, childish and comical, she was indeed more powerful than he’d have ever imagined? Could she read his mind? Aeolos couldn’t help filling his expression with fear.

"Sagittarius saint Aeolos, Gemini saint Saga... I’ve summoned the two of you here to meet this singular person... Though we may say she’s not in her best day. This is Lyre Weren, female saint and teacher."

"What’s her constellation?" Saga hardly shook hands with her or anything of that sort. He just bursted with a question which froze both Lyre and the Pope. None of them said a thing.

"Some day you’ll know. Maybe when the right opportunity for fighting comes, maybe later." the Pope knew those would be the last words spoken, thus no one else would make any further comments. Delicate matters ended there.

"Pleased to meet you. Just like the Pope said, my name is Aeolos." Aeolos reached his hand and smiled gently. His gesture took Lyre by surprise and she remained motionless for a while. After that she managed to reach her hand too, not to be kissed but to shake his in a very masculine and unexpected way.

"Lyre Weren... Yes, he also said so. Please to meet you." Lyre faced some difficulties while trying to spell the last words, though they weren’t related to phonemes or language matters. She just wasn’t used to saying them.

"You’re dismissed." said the Pope as he turned his back to the three of them. They stood up, looked around, surprised, until Lyre found her nerves and asked:

"You summoned the three of us here… to do this? Won’t you ask what’s been going on among the female saints, or… whatever… what do these saints do inside their empty temples all day long?"

"Empty temples?!" Saga seemed upset. "At least we don’t have to fight the air nor use those horrid masks!"

"I don’t attend to suspect meetings of young people of my same gender!"

"What are you trying to say, you..."

"Watch your mouth! You may regret what you’re to say!" it was Aeolos’ turn to get stared at Saga’s behavior. He kind of noticed Lyre had an incredible gift to get people distressed. And Saga fell down straight on her trap.

"Gemini! Weren!" the Pope yelled, losing his head at once. "Let us stop this bawling! I won’t accept such disorder inside this room! This is a sacred place! Neither remain the temples idle, nor do female saints fight in vain! Now all of you get out of here, I’ve been weary enough at all this foolish arguments!"

Speechless, Saga and Lyre ceased quarrelling and started walking after Aeolos towards the exit door.

"You stay, Aeolos."

Except for Sagittarius Saints, everyone left without looking back. Outside, Gemini saint and the gruff woman took a look at each other – or kind of did it: it was impossible to know precisely where Lyre was looking to as her face as covered –, facing one on one, their eyes struggling. They couldn’t fight up there, thus they invited each other to a combat through silence and subtle gestures.

They went downstairs under the curious looks at the two soldiers left. The first one, deeply hurt, had been absent for his own good. He could have been far from intelligent, but still had he some appreciation for his life.

In front of Pisces house they stopped but no glances were given then.

"You’re not supposed to be here." Saga began. "This is a restrictly accessed area, and female saints are not allowed here."

"I can wander wherever I want in this Sanctuary."

"You didn’t look so brave to me up there. What is it, are you lying, are you afraid of the Pope? I bet you’re bluffing."

"No, I’m not. If you wish so, you may wait until the conversation with 'gentle' Aeolos is finished, and then you may go ask the Pope whether I’m right or not." Lyre took a break, standing in an attack position. "I never show up on these quarters ‘cause I just can’t stand the way you saints dress, walk and talk with each other. I prefer female saints, who are less fortunate and more decent."

"I see those 'suspect meetings of young people of a same gender' also applies to female fighters…"

"Oh, now you’re definitely crossing some borderlines!"

"Who do you think you are, Lyre, to speak to me like that? I’m a gold saint, and I could bet you don’t have a cloth! That was all Pope’s cheap talk, I’m sure you’re some saint trying to get stuck on us to suck our blood and try to reach some higher position!"

"I’m going to show you, Saga… that the stories you’ve heard were not totally a fantasy…" while she built an energy ball between her hands, Saga started to do the same, bound to cast the "Galactic Explosion", his strongest attack, so that he could effectively shut that inconvenient lady’s mouth.

"You’ll regret this, Lyre…"

"Do not underestimate me, lad! You’re seventeen years old and you know nothing about life. You don’t know the pain you may inflict yourself by challenging someone more powerful than you…"

Saga laughed. Definitely, Lyre was too conceited to fit her own ego! Attempting to claim herself as a stronger saint, stronger than a gold fighter in his level!

"Swallow your laughter… now!" casting a comet-like bolt, Lyre was pulled back a little, such was the force of the concentrated energy in her hands. Saga tried to dodge, taking for granted that avoiding an attack was no big deal for a saint who moved at light speed; as a matter of fact, though, he didn’t manage to, which was an unlucky strike. Hit right in the stomach, he was thrown away and crashed into a column.   

"Aeolos…" The Pope began to talk. "Please, stand up. There’s no reason you remain on your knees."

He obeyed and got to his feet, still trying to figure out what had taken place there the moment before and why was he held inside the same room.

"Aeolos… I wanted you to meet Lyre… Because I think you two are special and must be together."

“What is this about?” He thought. “Be together?”

"Lyre is not what she seems to be. In fact, she’s all you’d never imagine."

"My, what mysterious things are there in a woman who argues with her own shadow and, as far as I’ve noticed, is seemingly able to read minds?!" Aeolos said, joking. Soon he’d regret it, as he took notice of the uncomfortable situation and the severe look at the invisible Pope’s eyes.

"She reads minds, Aeolos, and she does much more than that."

"You’re scaring me, sir, and I confess not to see the purpose of wanting me to meet her."

"We’re not the only ones to await the third reincarnation of goddess Athena. The world also expects for other gods. We’re not able to know whether they’re good or evil, we just have to wait and fight, if it’s the case, to protect Athena when she’s back on Earth."

"Yes, sir."

"But it seems we already have the reincarnation of another goddess. To be correct, not the incarnation, but the divinity herself. And in a very peculiar form. Aeolos, Lyre’s got this singular manners of speaking and acting, and she sure looks more like a scared animal than a warrior… but it’s inside her that Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, hides."

Completely startled, Aeolos felt like falling down taken by a great admiration. He had always assumed there might be other gods in different parts of the world, but he never thought a goddess would be taking shelter exactly at Athena’s Sanctuary, and that she could have chosen such an unrecognizable disguise. He never thought he’d be so close. He stared at his hand – the hand that had touched goddess Aphrodite.

"Don’t waste all your horror and fear faces with this only information, Aeolos. There’s more to know about her than you may guess."

Aeolos swallowed. What kinds of secrets did she conceal?

"Aphrodite opted for a different tactic than Athena’s. Our goddess selects young ladies to incarnate in, while Aphrodite picked a single body, which she would not take directly and would remain sleeping in. The ideal alternative to stay quiet for a long time and only show when it appears convenient. However, in order to succeed with her plans, it had to be a resistant, strong body. Strong enough to last for as long as she wished to…"

"Lyre doesn’t seem to have the adequate appearance or physical conditions, sir."

"And she doesn’t. Lyre was precisely elected just because she doesn’t seem to be the right choice. Nevertheless, she’s much more powerful than any of us, since she’s got something we don’t. She’s immortal."

Aeolos suddenly felt dizzy. He was struck by a sudden pang inside his head, which forced him backwards. Immortal? That went against everything he had believed his whole life, against all the teachings he’d received. Everything: his religion, his beliefs. And it was so… paradoxical! How come the goddess of beauty lay in that mistreated body of Lyre’s? How come she looked so bossy and bully?

"Aphrodite built her home her own way, and it would be very good if she got to like you, Aeolos."

"Good for what, sir?"

"Good for becoming allies. Lyre’s got a lot of strength and she’s faster than the gold saints. But she’s extremely unhappy towards the fact she cannot die… I believe it’d be nice of you to befriend her."

"That woman doesn’t seem to want friends." Aeolos was about to resume his speech, were it not for the feeling of Saga’s cosmo increasing to dangerous levels. Another cosmo confounded with his, but it appeared to be stronger and more profound. He suddenly foresaw terrible things and only had time to say this, before he went running after his mate:

"I’m sorry, sir, but I must prevent a tragedy from happening!" yes, the name for what could happen was tragedy, in case Lyre lost her balance and cast some worse charge. He ran his legs out until he got to the place where the two saints were battling.

Lyre was bound to hit Saga one more time. He wouldn’t give in and drop the fight, even though he was wounded and almost collapsing.

"Stop, both of you!" Aeolos shouted, hoping his presence would calm their tempers. It had no effect, though.

"Get out of here! We’ve got to finish this, no matter what… But your friend’s not really willing to face the truth…"

As he watched Lyre closer, now that he was aware of half her enigmas, Sagittarius saint Aeolos could see some tragic traces behind her comical façade. She was indeed much swifter than Saga and him together; her techniques seemed more effective and her assaults, more efficient. He could barely see as she moved, and predicting what she was to do was practically impossible.

"Put off this nonsense, Saga!" maybe his friend would pay attention. "You’ll end up really bad!"

"Listen to your friend, saint! It’s Wisdom itself speaking!

For some reason, Lyre’s ironic tone didn’t please him anyhow, and what made him laugh before was getting to his nerves then. Perhaps Lyre had that strange ability of persuading people into hating her… was it the cynical touch in her sentences? Or just the frustrating conclusion that she was actually stronger. and even superior hierarchically?

Since Saga wouldn’t reply and also resist to drop out, Lyre lowered her arms and cast another energy discharge, quite similar to Saga’s own attack. Dead-ended, Aeolos jumped in from of Lyre and pushed her hands aside, so that the bolt and her cosmo would fade away in the air. Holding her fists, he looked through her mask in a very unpleasant way, which bothered Lyre more than the interference itself.

"You could’ve been hurt… more than him." she stammered, panting. She brushed her bangs and soon recovered her former pose. "I’m leaving. There’s no fun in playing with you anymore."

"It’s not over, you loony! Listen, dead-alive witch, we’ve still got to settle accounts!" Saga didn’t know for sure where did he get energy to speak from, but he yelled anyway. However, he had seemingly reached her Achilles’ heel, for instead of scolding him back or opening a new quarrel she stopped, took a deep breath and went away, crawling the way home. A sudden grief had apparently taken over her spirit.

From the distance she wasn’t able to hear Saga’s comments. He had fallen semi-conscious over Aeolos’ arms, severely bleeding.

"Damn her! Hopefully she’ll go back to her tomb and stay where she belongs! Hellcat!" he took his hands to his belly, his stomach aching hard as he cuffed on and on. Aeolos assisted him as he could, but his mind was too far off to concentrate on his pal’s blabbing. His eyes got lost among the trees to the left and the stairways down, wondering what else was he to witness. What else was that female saint hiding… beyond the things he already knew?

Dark loaded clouds covered the sun as it started to rain.                   

“Why does it have to be like that, Lyre? Why dost not thou know thy punishment well enough, thy heavy, unending burden upon this exhausted body of yours? Why, since thou hast seen there is no use in battling against thy own soul, canst thou stop fooling thyself? Thy time for regretting is over, hence mourning is no longer helpful. Give it up, Lyre, for nothing thou, thy god or this sublime attraction that’s springing doth shall make me step back in my decision. Thou art mine, meant for whatever I may plan.”

"No, no, no!" Lyre cried, troubled by the voice echoing in her mind. She raised her hands to her head, covering the ears as if she could silence the goddess that spoke inside her head. As she fell down, bungling, she strained her ankle and tumbled on her knees over a water pond. That was definitely not the best day of her life. First, the most embarrassing scene in front of the Pope, a scolding in the worst style – before other people, and boys –, a fight against a gold saint, and now an injury. She felt it would take a bit more 'til she felt good again that time…

Rain was falling heavier and her clothes started weighting ten times more. Lyre felt that seating down on the floor and waiting for death to come was useless, ‘cause it wouldn’t come anyway. Begging and praying didn’t sound good either. She tried to stand up but the acute pain took her back to earth. She looked at herself, observing her pitiful state – sat on mood-covered ground, full of dirt, pain and soaking wet –, took off her mask and began to weep like a child. There was nothing left to do but wait until the storm or the pain went away, whatever happened first, and then go back to her hut.

"Lyre, what’s going on?" Aeolos’ worried voice came out of nowhere unexpectedly, followed by both of his hands, which touched her shoulders. Hearing those careful words, Lyre understood why was Aeolos so fairly famous and for a moment completely disconnected from the rest of the world. She was really that sweet, gentle and caring. Much more caring than anyone she had ever met. No further proof was required: just the fact that he was there, unarmed with harsh words and cruel intentions, was enough to make her believe he was as pure as heaven.

"It’s nothing." time to dive back into reality! "Go back to your temple, go take care of your friend and leave old dead-alive hag here. You shouldn’t even be in a place like this… Should the Pope get to know it…"

"The Pope sent me here. He wanted to know how you were."

Well, maybe Aeolos was not that perfect anyway. If he didn’t really intend to help here, if he was only performing his task… Then why touching her like that… Why such mild words?

"And please, are you really always that rude? We’re far from them now, and yet you insist on posing as the strongest, the unbeatable saint? Stop being so crabby. Should you keep you behaving like you did up there, you won’t get any insults from me, only laughs. I’ve never seen the soldiers scream so much…" Aeolos smiled a bit, but little enough to notice he had said something wrong. She could hear Lyre’s tears drop in the middle of her sobbing.

"Put on your mask again, please. Are you hurt?" seeing she had done what he said, Aeolos approached her more. She then decided to turn her face as well, right at the same time, what turned into a awkward meeting. They were so close to each other their noses could almost touch. Stunned, both jumped back and stared at each other for a while.

"I’ve just hurt my foot. Kind of twisted it. No need to worry about it. And it doesn’t seem the right time for jokes, so if you would leave as I asked…"

"I don’t want to."

"You’re so annoying!"

"You’re so stupid! You’re refusing my help, even though I’m insisting!"

"Then maybe the dummy here is you! If a mule won’t move its legs, then you mustn’t force it!"

Perhaps the silence that aroused hurt more than the insults themselves. Aeolos had a serious expression on his face, as if the rain also washed his eyes, and threatened to stand. That was the drop, indeed. Even a seemingly everlasting patience like his had to come to and end sometime.

"I’m sorry… I’m only nervous." Aeolos felt Lyre’s tiny hand hold his wrist as he tried to get up. "My ankle’s surely aching, and I don’t see what to do."

Aeolos looked forwards, then downwards, trying to decide quickly whether he would accept her desperate pleading or leave her to get a pneumonia and learn a lesson; finally, he concluded he just couldn’t be mean, even though he tried hard to. He leaned again and said, while picking Lyre in a single move:

"Come on… I’ll take you to your hut."

"But…"

"Say nothing more, will you? I’m about to let the rest of tolerance in me be dragged by the rain." Aeolos wasn’t looking at her face when he said that. He went on walking and needn’t ask Lyre to hold him tight. She did it by herself, folding her arms around his neck as she hid between his upper arm and his chest.

It was all so weird… There had been a long time since Lyre last felt enchanted by a man’s attitude, yet she didn’t recall any boys like Aeolos in her life. They were once more too near… The water falling between them did nothing but disturb Lyre’s thoughts… or quite the contrary. How could she help being attracted by someone who demonstrated such a great, altruist interest about her condition, who despite being insulted hundreds of times would try to fix everything and sometimes even took the blame for mistakes he didn’t make, just to save his friends’ necks? Did Aeolos feel the same about her? Lyre doubted it big time.

He opened up the unlocked door with a mere kick. He stepped in, closed it again using his body and laid Lyre on the bed, sitting by her side.

"Do you happen to have a towel around?"

"They’re over that chair." she pointed to a shady spot beside the table. Over a chair he could find towels, cloth patches and clothes, all piled up in a mess. Aeolos abstained from saying anything – he assumed Lyre’s reaction – as he tidied all he could find and quickly caught two towels. He walked towards Lyre again and started to wipe her in a very unconventional way. Stunned, she couldn’t lift a finger. Eyes wide-open and blushing cheeks were certainly found behind her mask.

"What are you doing?" she stuttered, amazed.

"I’m wiping you, of course." all in all, such a natural action. "Don’t tell me you were going to spend the rest of the day in those wet shirts! Actually, I think it’s a good idea you changed them, if you don’t wish to…" he silenced all of a sudden. Lyre asked herself why.

"Nothing’s going to happen to me, believe me. But I’ll change anyway. Please, get that blouse and those trousers."

Aeolos picked them up and handed to her.

"Now turn your back. It wouldn’t be a nice thing if you sneaked while I get dressed."

As far as it seemed, things were starting to get better. Aeolos turned to the wall, smiled waggishly and thought that, after all, Lyre would eventually give in.

"Yes, just as I guessed… You’re not the rock people say you are."

"Nor are you the angel I heard about. And be careful at what you think, ‘cause I can tell anything that goes through your mind."

"Definitely... I must be cautious."

Once more did silence leave blank questions.

"That’s it." said Lyre. "You may look at me, I’m done."

"And what about your foot, how is it?" Aeolos pointed to her left foot as an excuse to observe how different she looked with her training costume off. She was... prettier.

"No doubt it hurts a lot."

"Let’s see if I can handle it." he sat by the bed’s corner and took off Lyre’s boots. Her feet were so small and soft it looked as if they belonged to a doll.

"Wait, slow down, this can… Ouch!" she cried in pain. Aeolos assumed to have found the bone’s right place and pulled it back, what caused quite a damn pain. Lyre grabbed the sheets as she tried not to call him names or shout dirty words out loud. But the discomfort soon was over, and instead of getting straight, saying goodbye and leaving – just like Lyre expected –, Aeolos kept on rubbing her ankle even subtler. He spent long minutes doing that, relaxing her completely.

"Would you mind if I removed my masked for a while?" she said, smoothly. "Just don’t look upwards… I want to breathe a little."

"Go ahead..." Aeolos tried hard not to express how nervous he felt, but as he realized he was massaging an unmasked female saint’s foot he could hardly feel near as serene as he once did. He focused on what he was doing, but it proved to be a great effort not to look upwards… not to find out what did that mask conceal.

"You do have a gift, Aeolos. I can’t define it, but you do…" Lyre got all her guts together to spit that sentence. If she couldn’t massage him as well, at least she’d massage his ego.

He didn’t reply. He refrained, keeping his resting hands upon her leg, and asked:

"May I look?"

"Wait... Now you can." relief, incredible, indescribable relief.

"Think I’ve got to get going. Can you walk now?"

"I guess so." Lyre got to her feet and took two steps. "I think you really fixed it."

"Well, then that’s it. We’ll probably see each other later, right?"

"Yes, later." farewells said, yet they remained exactly in the positions. They gazed at one another, unsure of what to do or say next.

"I think... you’d better hold on a bit until the rain stops." wind streams thrust the window as the water leapt through the holes and slip beneath the door. "If you go outside, you may get hurt by the wind. Some branch may fall, or a lighting may strike... I won’t bite you, there’s no need to be afraid."

Thinking twice, it didn’t sound bad. Despite the fact she had suddenly turned into a beautiful creature, he’d say he was feeling comfortable and waiting comfortably inside for the storm to end truly seemed safer.

"Well… I supposed I’d better stay here then, if you don’t mind."

Lyre didn’t reply, but he expected no gentle answers either. She just showed him a chair and threw in bed, crossing her legs as she picked a book lying on a corner table. Aeolos attempted to read the title, but it appeared not to be his language.

"It’s German. I’m German." Lyre promptly replied. Apparently, she didn’t lift her eyes a millimeter off the pages as she spoke.

"Can you really read through this mask?" asked Aeolos curiously.

"Haven’t you ever talked to a female saint?" Lyre felt surprised and indignant at the same time. She dropped the book on the mattress and approached him, leaning her head on of her hands.

"Actually, not."

"And all you do the whole day is stay with your brother, practice, talk to the other saints?!"

"Yes..." Aeolos even felt ashamed. He wondered if the fact of never being with a woman before was really that absurd. Anyway, how could this type of thing go on in a place like Sanctuary? People over there were no ordinary humans; all their routine directed to a common aim, which wasn’t quite related to dates and intimate conversation involving male and female saints.- Guess I do.

"For Athena’s sake!" she exclaimed, tapping Aeolos’ forehead as if trying to grab his head. "How do you manage to live?!"

"Hey, don’t you reprimand me! You don’t look like an model of social behavior either!"

"Bet you’ve never kissed a woman…"

"It’s none of your business!" her voice tone was starting to drive him mad.

"You’re right, I guess it’s really none of my business." Lyre slightly pushed him backwards and threw herself on the bed again. "Who knows, maybe one day someone’s going to cross your way… Then you’re going to learn that life’s not only about working and looking after others."

"I know what I have to do. If I do it over and over every day it’s because I need to. While you keep defying everyone all the time and come isolate here, I must raise a little brother and train hard. I’ve got a temple to watch over."

"No one ever asks what am I to do, now censors me, nor makes useless comments about my decisions. That’s the advantage of not getting involved with lots of people, and I’m glad about it."

"Great for you."

"You don’t understand me, I don’t understand you."

"Perfectly. And I believe it’s time for me to go, Aeolia must be worried."

"It’s still raining." there wasn’t a single tip of concern on her words. She didn’t even look in Aeolos’ eyes.

"I’ll get going anyway. It’s not worth remaining here. I’ve got to get criticized by people and sucked by needing kids.." Aeolos opened the door carelessly, walked off and purposively forgot to say goodbye.

"Shut the door!" Lyre got a slam as an answer. She stared at the empty space opposite to her, and though she felt a little bit lonelier than usually, she didn’t regret anything she said. That saint really had a problem… How could he be so… simple? Perhaps the problem wasn’t really his, but hers.

The goddess’ words clanged on: “sublime attraction springing?”?! What did she meant by that?      

Aeolos rushed like a comet throughout his house, all wet and mute. He closed the door roughly, struggling against the wind. Before he could hush to his room and take his clothes off, he came across Aeolia, who stood in his way. His little red eyes indicated that he had been sleeping during his absence period.

"What took you so long, Aeolos? I got tired of waiting and fell asleep…"

"I had to solve some problems, Aeolia. I’m sorry." he messed his hair with a hand, caressing his brother’s head. "Now let your brother go get changed."

"Saga was here. What happened to him? He was so wounded…"

"He got stuck in a fight…" the facing voice came from the bathroom. The half closed door demanded a higher tone of voice from Aeolos, who shouted to be heard. "No big thing. You know Saga is not very patient…"

"He said you met Mrs. Weren, Aeolos. Is that true?"

Why did everyone in the Sanctuary know her, except him?! Was there anything weird about Aeolos that prevented him from meeting her, talking to her, under any circumstances at all? Was Lyre right in the end? Was he really that focused on his daily duties, on raising Aeolia and being fair, so that he began to alienate? Was he losing grip of reality?

"Yes." he answered dryly.

"Mrs. Weren is very kind to me. I can’t see why won’t Saga like her."

"Yes..." he put on another shirt and brushed his hair after untying the stripe around his forehead.

"Guess she only likes children."

"Yes, likely. Now let’s quit chatting about this lady and talk about your training day. So, what have you done, before the storm drove you away from the fields?" Aeolos left the bathroom, sat on a wadded bench and took his brothers to one of his legs.

"Didn’t do much today. Just practiced some moves and techniques."

"We’ll be doing more tomorrow, won’t we?"

"No, no!" he made a serious expression. "Tomorrow there won’t be any training! It’s our free day!"

"You’re right…" he had even forgotten about his leisure time. All the fighting and punches were truly getting to his head and affecting his brain quite negatively. Or was it the afternoon spent beside Lyre, by any chance?

"Aren’t you hungry, Aeolos?" the little boy interrupted his reflections. "I’ve already eaten whatever was inside the oven, but I left some in a plate for you. Won’t you eat? It’s getting cool…"

"Sorry, Aeolia, I’m not really hungry…" he slipped aside, moving to another seat.

"Aeolos, what’s going on?" Aeolia placed his hands over his brother’s forehead, looking apprehensive. "You’re worried about something…"

"No, I’m not." he answered rudely. "There’s nothing going on, Aeolia, just leave me alone… now that you’ve eaten, how about going to bed at once? Night’s coming and it doesn’t matter if you’re training or not tomorrow, you’re going to wake up early."

"But…"

"No “buts”." he pushed his brother forwards, towards the smaller room where he used to sleep. Aeolia saved some space beside his bed to an imaginary clothbox. He longed for it, dreaming of such achievement day by day. Golden saint Leo! "You better lie down and fall asleep shortly. And no complaints."

"Ow..." he lied on the bed, undressing quickly and pulling up the sheets. He peeked through a crack on the window and saw the sun setting down, the cloudy sky taking cover behind the gray clouds, which had still got torrents to drop. "It’s still dusk, Aeolos!"

"I said: no complaints. Now you should cover yourself if you don’t want to get a…" he paused suddenly, reaching his nose with a hand and sneezing."... a cold."

"Yes… I can see who’s got a cold here." he smiled childishly, pushed the blanket and turned to the other side. Aeolos kissed him on the face and whished him a good night before closing the door and going back to that pseudo-room.

He circled the carpet for several long minutes, reflecting upon his argument with Lyre and the fact she was eerily well known by all the people but him. And why did the Pope intend to get them together, even mentioning he wished them to be partners? Partners how? Training mates? Unlikely; such a hardheaded bully like Lyre would never leave her training place or share the arena with someone else. Besides, he felt far from safe when he recalled having to fight along with a goddess.

Her cosmo was indeed unlike. It owned an incomparable intensity, which Aeolos had never felt in his life. The Pope himself didn’t stand out that much. And those memories… He felt as if Lyre had that murky look, even though he had never seen her masqueraded eyes. He could feel her vibes, her energy, and tell what sort of feeling she kept inside her heart… but she did it faster herself. Lyre was able to read his mind, though she apparently avoided doing it every time they met – then again, those were so few –, only when she wished to. And that was exactly why Aeolos had to be extremely cautious.

Another thunder sounded somewhere near. It brought him even more remembrances, more images… Scary stuff... The fear that mask made him feel... Unrelated to worship, as to the Pope… Only fright. Lyre’s face disfigured whenever he thought of her then. Her words trespassed him like spears… He was defenseless, no one could hear him scream… Saga was gone, and Shura, far away.

As he opened up his eyes morning welcomed him back. He had seemingly fallen asleep in the couch, wearing the same flattened clothes. His hair was all messed and his face a bit swollen. The legs were numb, as a consequence for lying in the same position for too long and his head ached, complaining about his awful state.

"Did you sleep where?" Aeolia’s sweet voice came from the hall.

"Think I fell asleep unnoticed…"

"Something did happen, and you don’t want to tell me."

"Aeolia, I’ve already told you to get those silly things off your head, it makes no sense saying that."

"Oh, all right, if you don’t feel like speaking, I won’t pressure you." yawning, Aeolia kneeled down to look for his sandals underneath the table. "So, are you preparing breakfast for me?"

"Sure..." Aeolos opened up the oven, took a kettle out, put some firewood inside and started boiling some water for the coffee. He got some bread from the cupboard and a pot with peanut butter and handed it over to Aeolia, who sat over the table and happily made himself a tasty sandwich. Just as he had finished it with big bites, he rushed out through the house door.

"Where are you going young man?!"

"I’m going to play with Milo and the others!"

"But you’ve hardly eaten and…"

"Aeolos, it’s our free day! Take a rest yourself!" he waived goodbye and ran away from Aeolos’ sight, who was left behind wearing a disappointed face and startling at the opened door.

"Kids..." he whispered, turning back to get a cup of coffee. He sat down and helped himself a loaf of bread as he daydreamed a little. Those stressing thoughts would do him no good and he concluded he just had to act more like a child, just like his brother… Stop minding too much about responsibility, about the future and his obligations that often… Take a rest from his assignments and his loaded notions, which brought him down and led him nowhere… Certain things were just not under his control, including Lyre’s presence among his thoughts.

NOTE: Hi, guys. I'm truly sorry for the tons of mistakes I've surely made while translating my texts, but you see, I'm Brazilian and though I've been studying English for over 9 years, you must agree with me: it's always too hard to write literary texts in other languages. Portuguese is really difficult to be learnt itself, and some idioms have no equivalent words in English. Anyway, I guess I'll be revising it some time later, but for now I believe it's good enough to be understood. If you want to report any mistake or suggest better ways to write a sentence, do not hesitate: mail me.

index | chapter 3

 // revolution | sea of monsters | pepperland | act naturally | hippy hippy shake! | paperback writer

i'm happy just to dance with you | every little thing | love these goon shows! | the continuing story of bungallow bill

chains | with a little help from my friends | i am the walrus | i just don't understand //

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