And walked; pulled forward to somewhere unknown.
Bodies unseen, steps buoyant and nimble, they passed out of Odin’s sphere of power and into other lands.
As they walked, the sun grew dim, the moon shadowing its’ rays and casting the world into the edge of dusk.
Aiolios led the way, as had always been his right, yet Saga matched him stride for stride.
Some would see this as presumptuous,
if not for the fact that it was Aiolios who had grabbed the purple-haired betrayer; a firm grip on his shoulder and nod that signified that this was what the should-have-been Pope wanted.
Shura did not move forward with them, lingering at the back, though his soul sung for the same forgiveness.
He had thought he’d been following a Godly order but he had forgotten to be his own person too, to question orders he thought wrong, to fight against injustice and evil.
He had not thought to consider that injustice could go so far up.
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