By Syntax 2005
Samus felt her lips tighten, light brows furrowed as she timidly reached her had up to touch ancient stone. She felt moved; the power of something old lingered within this place, of something beautiful and strong.
The hard alloy of metal that wrapped around her fingertips scraped gently across the proud carved face of a Chozo statue. It loomed above her, and she felt almost like a child in the embrace of her father, one who would protect and care for her as any would their kin. Surrounding him stood other figures that glowed with power and intensity despite the state of decay.
She stood in the midst of them, armed by them, here to save them.
The edges of her lips twitched. That would be how she would have liked to think. A hero returning to save a civilization. That was what they had prophesied, what was carved into walls in ancient temples, left for their hero to find one day. Turning her head away slightly, her hand lingered on what could have been and what had already passed.
...Our thoughts turn to the newborn...
Tall graceful creatures clad in robes sat within a large chamber filled with light, and the figure in the center looked down with wisdom in his dark eyes. Another of their kind stood before them, his own form covered in a warrior’s armor, yet his attention looked not to the Elder that sat before him. His eyes lay on the small bundle in his arms.
He was young for their race, the crown of feathers that adorned his head ruffling with the beginning of adulthood. This one had fought for the first time today away from their home planet of Zebes. The peaceful nature of their race and advancement in weaponry did not require them to engage in physical combat often, yet the young male brought with him now the result.
The bundle fidgeted and the Elder looked to the young male, making him raise his eyes.
"This newborn was the only survivor?"
The young male inclined his head gracefully, a touch of sadness in his hunched shoulders. Today was his first witness of death. It would wizen him, the Elder thought.
"All of her kind in the space colony were killed. We took down a number of them but they escaped. We found none we were able to heal." The young male looked down fondly at the small bundle. "I found this one silent in her crib."
The Elder leaned forward to gently shift aside the cloth with sharp clawed fingers to stare down at the humanoid child, her bright eyes staring up curious and without fear.
...She has great strength in her...
The girl hobbled slightly, small chubby hands wavering to catch her balance. Her brow furrowed in concentration, the task of stepping one foot in front of the other foremost in her mind. Yet her small foot mis-stepped and she slipped, falling hard on her bottom.
The Chozo male that looked after the girl crinkled his eyes in good humor as her tiny face began to scrunch up, but she sniffed, and stubbornly stood again. The floor would not defeat her this time, and she stepped, wavering as she did.
The Elder made sure he saw the newborn every day, to make sure she was cared for. He could feel her path would bring great difficulty to her. She would endure much. The young warrior that had found her sat now nearby as he watched the girl walk steadily. His mate sat beside him, her face smiling openly.
"You care much for the newborn," the Elder remarked, and the two younger Chozo started in surprise.
"As we all do," the young male replied.
They sat in silence for a moment before the Elder spoke, "I see a prophecy, I dream of the newborn. She was given to us for a purpose." The Elder looked on as the girl turned around, stumbling towards where they sat, a pleased and smug expression on her small face. "I will teach her."
The young female who was before staring out, turned to look towards the Elder. "I dream as well. I dream of a great darkness from the sky, I dream of our new territory, Tallon IV."
"We dream of the same, young one," the Elder said, and the newborn tripped into the young male’s arms, her reply a squeal of delight.
...She will learn much...
"Why?" She asked again, and the Elder remembered the virtue of patience.
"Because you are too small, little one. He is a warrior; he must leave, if only for a short while. Do not worry, he will return." The one who named himself her guardian had left shortly before on duty. Rumors that the pirates were near surfaced.
The girl frowned. "I’m a warrior too. I want to go."
"You cannot," the Elder said, his old face almost sad. "Not yet."
With a sigh, the Elder reminded himself she was only a newborn.
...A hero will come to us. I believe she has now...
The newborn looked out across the landscape. The Elder stared at her, how different she looked, how much like his people. Her armor was of their make, and she would wield it with her strength.
The young male had not returned that night, and the newborn’s heart began to grow cold with each day. The Elder knew her conflicts, the hatred she felt for an enemy she had never seen. The Elder still dreamed of a future he could not understand. He saw greatness and sorrow, and as always he saw the newborn intertwined within.
He had told her of her origins, of the deaths of the ones like her. She had been silent, still. He had taught her absolute calm, and the Elder wondered if it was the right thing to do.
"You leave us now, newborn. You leave us now to become yourself. You want to find solace in revenge," the Elder said, knowing.
She turned slightly back, only the eyes of the newborn visible behind her tinted visor. She was no longer newborn, and the Elder remembered the young warrior with the same flash of adulthood in his eyes.
"I leave you now as Samus Aran," she said, her voice distorted. "And I will return."
Removing her hand from the stone of the statue, Samus turned away. The Temple calmed her, light rain falling now from a clouded sky, making small tinkling noises as they hit her Power Suit.
They may have been gone, but she was here now. She had returned and would not leave until her enemy was defeated.
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