The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls (1)
Prologue

You may think of me as "the perfect Claymore," as many of my fellow warriors have.

Years ago, I would've swelled in pride to be given yet another flattering nickname. Now the mere mention of my once lofty titles fill me with shame and embarrassment.

I am no god. And I am far from perfect.

Like every single warrior before and after me, I was once human. I once harbored my own scars, flaws, and share of sad stories. Yet I was so caught up in my own arrogance that I came close to forgetting my own humanity. The power, prestige and high rank I had garnered during my career as a warrior now mean little to me.

As a lowly and humble nun at Rabona, I could finally enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Nothing warms my heart more than the orphans saying how much they loved and adored me. The memory of my promotion to number three now seems so irrelevant, almost laughable when I considered how proud I used to be.

It has been many years since I've touched my sword, because I have my hands full with other things such as gathering flowers with the children or helping with the alms at church.

But whenever the Holy City is ever in danger, I will not hesitate to draw my blade once more and fight to the end. Even now, I can never truly let go of my warrior spirit, that instinct to protect others. If there is one good thing that came out of becoming a warrior, it's gaining the strength to protect people I care about.

Most of all, my years at Rabona helped to relieve the pain I have been bottling up when I was a cold, unfeeling Yoma slayer. Father Vincent had told me that the best way is to simply let it out before it becomes a burden that would drag down my life. I have no secrets to hide anymore. I'm willing to share with you the cherished memories of my human life, as well as the heart-wrenching experiences that still kindle my inner warrior to this day.

I am Sister Latea, once known as God-Eye Galatea, the Organization's number three. And this is my story.