章節 128: DA : Chapter 128: Cracks III
It was with those thoughts that he finally noticed that he had arrived at the highest step and was now only pace or so from being on the balcony and in plain view. Taking one last reassuring breath he went on, the dull rumble now a near roar as his pristine white garments making his presence known within moments.
...
He walked to the very rail and gave a gentle wave, smiling softly at the cheers and shouts of the crowd of people. Young and old, men and women, of nearly any profession or creed, they all came. He wondered if other temples and holy sites were just as overflowing. He glanced up to the warm sun overhead, having passing its peak and now on to the slow descent for the day. Luckily it hadn't been too hot today, otherwise they would have some of the repeated emergencies with heat strokes and fainting spells plaguing the last week.
He moved his eyes from the skies above to the people again, raising a hand for silence which was followed in short order. He prepared to speak, to give another short speech on coming together for support and prayer, in wake of Cordoba and the unknown future … but he paused.
Perhaps it was a movement he caught, maybe he just wanted to look at the blues skies yet again, or maybe it was something simply whispering in his mind to look up. The reason unknown his gaze still lifted and for a moment he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Had it been in passing he could have written it off as a bird fluttering by, but this was no bird.
His mouth dropping, eyes widening, he took in the splendor before him. With wings of bronzed feathers, caressed with the gentlest breeze, was a woman like no other he'd seen in his seventy years.
Dressed in a snug chiton of the purest white with gold embroidery and sash around her waist, hair of the warmest browns lightly spilling over exposed shoulders equally tanned skin. Eyes of gold with pupils of an emerald glow on, high cheeks and heart shaped face. The vision of beauty, what else could he call it?
An angel had blessed them with her presence.
His silence and gaze attracted the attention of the crowds as they followed his sight, resounding gasps of shock and disbelief erupted all around as even the television crews present swiveled around to get a shot of this holy being.
Then, with unearthly grace she descended, as if the very breeze was lowering her with solemn reverence. Soon she was low enough to balance on the tip of the obelisk centering the square but she continued on, the people below scampering back with a hushed murmur. The click of her golden heels upon the stone beneath echoed all around as the very ground seemed to thrum with her presence and even Francisco in his old age felt as if new vigor was flowing through him.
With posture and grace she walked forward, the people parting before her like the Red sea before Moses, some even falling to their knees in prayer. Some looked at her in unbridled fear, intimidated by the unquestionable aura of power radiating off this being. However, as she moved and the crowds parted, it seemed that a child had gotten separated from her parents and fallen … right in the path of the angel.
He barely noticed his breath hitching as the angel stopped and glance down at the small child before her. The little brunette, even from this distance Francisco could see that she was frightened but then the angel gave her a warm smile.
He watched in fascination as the winged woman drew closer and knelt before the child, speaking softly while gesturing to the scrapped knee of the child. A mumbled reply and shy nod later, the angel gently pressed a single finger to the small cut and there was a brief, golden glow before she removed her finger. Nothing but unblemished skin remained much to the crowd's amazement before the angel picked up a flower the child had dropped and let it rest in her palm.
They watched, transfixed as the trampled plant became vibrant once more and even grew in radiance, seemingly balancing perfectly in her palm until the restored rose was at its peak. Then, with another smile the angel gave the flower to the girl who gingerly took it and said something that made the angel giggle of all things.
Leaning forward to kiss the child's forehead, the angel then rose back to her feet and glanced around, and stopped on a woman that looked like a bigger version of the girl. 'The girl's mother,' Francisco mused as the now excited girl returned to the arms of her mother who seemed to thank the angel, something she waved off with a smile.
After another few moments and words the angel resumed her path, walking straight towards where Francisco himself resided above the square. With her approach more dropped to pray, others bowed, and many more smiled or waved which the angel happily returned before she arrived to the border where the Vatican guards kept the general populace back. She paused there and looked on in amusement before directing her gaze to the head guard, easily picking him out from the dozens that stood before her.
Pope Francisco suddenly felt apprehensive at the sight of several guards nervously fidgeting, some even fingering the guns hidden at the backs until the head guard glanced back and up at Francisco. Seeing this Francisco nodded before the guard barked an order having the defense line separated down the center.
The angel nodded her head with a murmur to the closest guards before she continued to walk but then, another miracle happened. With her every step up she seemed to find purchase on nothing but air much to the shock of those witnessing.
Every pair of eyes watched on as step by step the angel drew closer to the Pope, something almost forgetting to breathe at this possibly historic moment. All too soon the angel was level before him, only a scant few feet from his balcony as she looked at him, her beauty almost too radiant for him to even bear. Then, with a soft and honeyed voice, spoken in perfect Latin of all things.
"Be not afraid…"
...
( Army Camp, Evening )
Allen gave a tense sigh as he slowly walked through the camps surrounding the Argos, small campfires doting the terrain around him. Demigods clustered all about, almost all hunkered down and only speaking in harsh whispers and uneasy murmurs.
He could even pick out the youngest recruits, most of them barely over 12, and felt nothing but disgust at the thought. There was no prophecy, no apparent greater agenda to Fate, and no simply task to suite the ego of a god.
No, these kids, many of them his siblings, were merely here because they were unlucky enough to pass the necessary requirement for cannon fodder. They didn't have anywhere near the experience or fortitude necessary, not for this. All-out war against literal legends, both ancient and recent, and yet the gods brought them along. They simply signed off on their deaths in a war that isn't even meant to be waged at the demigods.
How many times had demigods themselves had civil war or even been an opposing side against mortals in history, and the gods stood aside saying it was mortal business? How was it that the gods were so quick to give up the lives of the demigods, their own children, and rarely put themselves in harm's way if they can help it. And now, even his own mother had been bested and taken prisoner, and possibly suffering in ways he was glad his mind failed to imagine.
He once had absolute trust in Olympus. Not anymore.
He remembered that sight before them. How the newest legend, Perseus Jackson, appeared before them on wings of darkness and single-handedly held off not only his mother but Artemis, his sister, and Bellona with little difficulty while the other two also dominated their opposition. Such an overwhelming force and yet the Olympians still brought the demigods with them to a battle ground that was likely to be at their disadvantage.
With every day spent waiting, the nerves of the demigods grew along with the obvious tension of the gods. Losing Athena created an imbalance of authority and the gods now bickered and squabbled like chickens on how to attack, who should lead, and so forth.
Zeus might be king and even a bit charismatic but unless on the actual battlefield, he wasn't an organized commander capable of rallying his troops to a single point. The other Olympians weren't helping much, especially Artemis and Hera who both demanded to attack as soon as possible, practically foaming at the mouths.
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Don't forget to throw some power Stones, to keep the story going.
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