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If the humans finally arrived to move on and to find a new path for their life, the three divinities, now pushed aside, had become useless. Sit in their heavenly abode, no more sound were coming out of their mouth nor any gesture from their hands or eyes. Their housing, basically shining bright and full of good vibes, had become sad and cold. Just like their heart. Everything seemed dead or inanimate.
Thus, the time passed, in an everlasting and ruthless slowness. The Black Saint seemed to blend in the decor, giving the illusion of a disappearance. His creator didn't permit him to leave, taking his hand in a slowly way and bringing him closer to him. He felt so ashamed. If he had been able to swallow his sadness and to look forward in his mission, he would never have had problem with any human. Now, his existence was vain. His crystal blue eyes became grey and bland. No more expression. No more benediction. No more life. Only remorse and disgrace.
The two younger took notice of the change of their elder. But, afraid of saddening him that much, they prefered to stay on each of their rating, touching from time to time the motionless hand of the Silver Saint. The Black Saint, borned ready to always find a solution, lost the use of his beautiful voice. No more tune could come out. Poor him, he lay there motionless near the void, patiently wiaitng for something to destroy him or make him disappear, whatever. His voice was the only purpose of his existence. If she had to disappear, he would have to disappear too or to wander forever in the eternity. This sad change bring inside the White Saint a hollow void in the bottom of his heart. Could he still feel wonder now ? Even him , didn't know what it was anymore. He turned his head to the right, to the left, stood up sometimes, was walking slowly, like to pass the time that had become their worst enemy. None of his elder seemed still animate. One was full of remorse and the other was becoming a part of the decor. He was definitely alone now. Very lonely and very miserable. The loneliness became a part of him. The inspiration was gone. His heart broke once and for all. And the smile fell for the tears. Long and thin transparent tears, skirting his angelic face to come crashing much lower, far from his world and from his eyes.
And thus began the eternal's rainfall. During seven hundred and forty-seven years, The White Saint poured out all of his pain which fell as rain on the Earth. His sobs made the Silver Saint react at the end of the three hundred and twenty seventh year. He tried to comfort and stop the cries of his creation, but in vain. Then, he went towake up the Black Saint who had not moved since the loss of his voice. This one blinked after the five hundred and sixty third year. He accompanied his creator to the White Saint. They sit and stayed huddled together. During one hundred eighty four years, the two elder had for purpose to stop the crying of their youngest. With one hand, the Black Saint was holding his hand firmly, and was passing time by time the other one under the White Saint's eyes. The Silver Saint was heavely holding him against his chest while whispering sweet words he hadn't spoken in many years.
« Hoping the day will come, when you forgive me for doubting of your existence, and my soul will stay wounded as long as tears come of your beautiful eyes. I'm begging you to forgive me, my dear immaculate Angel. »
The Silver Saint constantly continued to implore him this way. But nothing changed. Finally, whereas the time was their worst enemy, it ended be becoming their saviour. Because much lower on Earth, a Mortel's spirit was thinking in a good way the ideas of the three fallen Saints.
