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The crowd was restless, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. Sitting on the edge of their seats, they waited for the next match between Saints to begin. Esmeralda’s lip curled at their eagerness to see such a cheap spectacle. Saints. Even just thinking the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. For all intents and purposes she supposed she was technically a Saint, but she would never truly consider herself one of them. She would never forgive them or the Grande Foundation for the crimes they’d committed and the horrors they’d inflicted on children.
The lights glinted off the golden box which held the Sagittarius Cloth, catching her eye. Her eyes narrowed as she raised her gaze to the balcony where Saori Kido sat in all her rich splendor. Esmeralda had been more than sour to learn of Mitsumasa Kido’s death before she was able to arrive in Japan to kill him herself, but his granddaughter would have to suffice. Only then would she be able to rest in some kind of peace.
Death Queen Island had been her home, unforgiving and harsh as it had been. Her father, Guilty, the only name even she his daughter had known him as, had been as cruel as the island they called home. Still, she’d always managed to keep some kind of positive outlook on life. There had been a time when she’d always been able to find those rare moments of happiness, just as she had been able to find the small spots of beauty on the island, such as the field of flowers nestled in its dry mountains and valleys. Now all she knew was an insatiable taste for revenge.
Her life on Death Queen Island had changed the day that a strange young boy from Japan had come to train with her father. Ikki had arrived more than a little rough around the edges, but possessing a kind soul and dedicated to attaining the Phoenix Cloth her father guarded.
Ikki had became her one friend and confidant, and she the same for him. In their stolen moments together she’d learned much about his past and the home he had come from. He wasn’t the only child sent off to undergo such harsh training, if not quite as cruel as his own. Children, orphaned children had been sent off to fight for Cloths. Was there a more vulnerable group then this? They had been used as cheap pawns in whatever game it was that Mitsumasa Kido was playing. It had horrified her.
Throughout the years she had watched quietly as everything changed in Ikki. His softer side hardened. His voice and mannerisms grew even rougher. Yet no matter how hard he tried he was never able to reach the level of hate and rage to awaken the Phoenix Cloth. Relentless, her father never let up on him.
In the end the harsh training had killed Ikki. He’d died at her father’s hand, just a boy never able to grow into a man.
She had snapped. At her flaring rage the Phoenix Cloth, which had remained dormant since its birth in the days of myth, burned to life. She hadn’t even been scared when all of the sudden she felt her blood flow with power she’d never believed possible. Her only goal had been satisfying the rage that was roaring through her and the Cloth gave her the power to do just that.
She could still remember the warm flush of blood covering her hand as she buried it in her father’s chest. Could still vividly picture the blank look in his eye as he’d toppled over before her. She’d never forget the cold feeling of Ikki’s body as she held it close while tears streamed down her face.
Tears of grief which had turned into those of rage at the cruel reality of their life. A cruel reality upheld by Mitsumasa Kido and those who called themselves Saints. How many other children that had been sent off to train had met the same fate as Ikki? She’d buried his lifeless body and her former self that day. Taking the Phoenix Cloth with her, she left the island to purge the world of the people responsible for this.
The lights in the stadium were dimming again, bringing Esmeralda out of her remembrance and her attention back to the present. The only lights which remained bright were those which illuminated the ring, where two combatants were prepping themselves to fight. She knew one of them to be Ikki’s brother, the one he’d talked about so often during their time together.
Part of her hoped he wouldn’t oppose her. Part of her wished none of them would, but she would go through any who tried. The Saints and their cruel ways had to be stopped, and she would see the destruction of the Grande Foundation and the end of Mitsumasa Kido’s line with Saori Kido’s death. She’d killed her own father; there were none here she’d hesitate to kill if they got in her way.
She stood up from her couched position and threw a smirk over her shoulder. “Let’s go girls.” The black clad women grouped behind her answered her with eager grins. In a burst of flames Esmeralda stepped forward to her long awaited revenge.