Author's Note: This was a gift for Cygny for SESA 2016. The story is finished but will be released in parts to make some grammatical improvements as well as tweak the plot in places.

Author's Note 2019: So, halfway through, I never finished uploading the rest of the story. Things happened and because it was already uploaded on another website, I kind of left it hanging. Now that the website is gone and someone was interested in the ending, I went back. I updated the grammar and there were plot points that had to be rushed in the original that I decided to fix.

Sagittarius: More than Gold

Prologue

It starts off with a subtle crack that quickly jagged along the ground. The once solid earth beneath his golden boots split apart, causing his legs to spread farther apart than they already were. Aiolos stared hard, as Shura's hand was raised high, the technique already complete. Aiolos pushed his lip against his teeth, recognizing the smile that Shura flashed as the type each of them gave when anticipating the release of power. There was no time to fly. There was no point.

The bottom of his boots heated up quickly from the slight warmth to a blazing fire as light blasted him high into the air. The power was so great that he felt as if someone hooked his chest from heaven and yanked him as high as he could reach. He tried to use his wings, but the force was too great. Suddenly there was a bit of weightlessness like he was almost floating. He opened his eyes to see the Greek sky. For a moment, he forgot about everything.

The near stabbing of Athena, the reveal that Saga had been playing the Pope for who knows how long, or that the boy that he saw so much praise in decided to stoop so low as to hide behind a baby to avoid being killed. For a brief moment, all that stayed in the back of his mind.

He was reading the sky as he would often do in the quiet of the forests. "Triangulum," he thought. Aiolia was terrible at identifying the constellations no matter how many times they practiced, but he always got that one right.

He felt the weight of his body pull him down. The stars stayed in place before the large thud occurred followed by his body rolling from one ledge and then another. Dust kicked up as several rocks fell on top of him and in between the gaps of his Cloth as he made his journey downwards. He took his arm and attempted to halt the momentum before it felt only air. The world was spinning at this point as he struck the side of the cliff face before a large rock ended his fall.

His dilated eyes stared at the vast clouds of dust that settled. A ringing entered his ears like water. He wondered if something was bleeding there too. He stared at his hand, now covered in various cuts and dirt. He wasn't sure how long he stared at it. Still, he tried to listen. "Athena" he tried to whisper, but nothing came out.

Who knows how much time had passed as he fought to keep his eyes open to at least try and converse with Shura one last time before he dealt the killing blow. But nobody came. Instead, it reached the point where he felt a little lonely. But no Gold Saint would allow his assignment to be incomplete.

A burst of little baby laughter echoed. Suddenly a bit of strength surged from his body. He turned his head. It was then he realized he didn't fall as far as he expected. Twenty feet was high but better than the two hundred foot drop that he missed out on.

But was Shura at the top waiting for him? It didn't matter. He needed to get to her even if he was ready to slice him in two. He pulled his hand and began the long climb. Every time he grabbed a new ledge, he could hear something crack in his body. It was so hard to breathe at this point. His hands trembled with each grab while his legs stung each time he put his weight on them. "Athena" he gritted her name, struggling to empower his hand to pull him up just one more ledge. He gasped as his head rose past the ridge and caught hold of the sight. "He's gone?" Aiolos thought as Athena sat there stroking a shiny, discarded bottle cap.

The Saint pulled himself up the rest of the way, still in shock of what happened. A weary smile crept at his lips. Either Shura missed him due to the dust and the angle that he fell, or didn't even bother to look over the side. Shura was a good fighter, but a cranium that was more pride than bone. He can imagine Shura's thoughts now.

Aiolos has wings; if he was alive, he should fly out of there.

Aiolos is honorable, he would never play dead.

Can't wait to hear what everyone thinks when they find out that I beat the most powerful Saint in Sanctuary!

In Sanctuary, a Gold Saint has a stage called the Terrible Tens when they gain enough control over their techniques and light speed that they strut like peacocks wherever they go. He's probably running right now to tell the Pope the wonderful news. Of course, when the Pope demands some sort of trophy like his Cloth or his handsome head, Shura will definitely come back. He must make the most of his time and get Athena somewhere safe.

He turned to Athena as she crawled to him, staring at him with wide eyes, making him wonder if she was happy to see him or the reflective side of his headpiece. He sat up and quickly muffled a deadly scream as the most painful sensation struck down his back, followed by the sound of grinding. He had endured years of pain, but by the twelve gods had he never felt anything like this. Tears filled his eyes, as he contained his emotion, fearing that he would draw attention. He quickly jerked off his Cloth from his body and sent it back into the box. He then focused the cosmos that would usually fill and power it into his body to try and take away some of the pain feeling a balm of relief come over him. He reached down and picked up Athena. She smiled sweetly before finding more amusement in the fact that she could pucker her lips like a fish. He chuckled a bit before gritting his teeth. He would be amazed if any of his ribs weren't broken.

He picked up his Cloth. The weight of it was making his legs feel numb and his head nauseous, but he had to take it. If Athena has to fight Saga, it will crush him to know if someone used it against her. He turned to a rocky path ahead of him, using his old orientation skills of getting as far away as possible. The area was rocky with crushed rock all around him. He knew he was outside of the twelve houses, but this was an area where Saints and trainees would practice. He was still within Sanctuary's reach, but based on his experience, many hardcore tourists would come early in the morning to see if they can get any trinkets whether it be actual artifacts or broken soldier equipment.

He kept moving. His feet kept tripping over the rocks, but he kept his balance.

As he hurried, his vision was getting very blurry, the jagged landscape looked more like beads of mud. He's lost track of time, the stars and the sunset swirled together as if he was gazing at a Van Gogh painting.

Suddenly his foot smacked an uneven crack, causing him to fall down. Aiolos tightened his grip as he turned his body to absorb the fall. He heard another crack and finally screamed in pain, his agony echoed loud enough to cause the crows that were eyeing his dying flesh to flee. He felt blood come up before spitting it out.

Aiolos reached his hand to touch the child, relieved that his Goddess was not only uninjured but was still fast asleep despite being obviously wet.

But now he had another problem. Aiolos struggled but couldn't get off his back, the Cloth weighing heavily behind him. He lay there, waving his legs and arms limply like a frantic upsidedown turtle. He knew he was going to die, but like hell was he going to do so like this. He waited there for a minute to gather his strength. He took a few deep painful breaths before he made a final twist that rolled himself on his side, cradling the baby as the box made a loud thump from the landing.

Feeling relieved that he was out of his embarrassing predicament; he attempted to take a step only to realize his legs weren't responding. He gave a hard slap, feeling a little bit of stinging, but they were more like two pieces of meat attached by his torso. He tried to gaze at Athena, but her face was so fuzzy that he couldn't tell if she was even awake or not. Was this what it was like for a body to shut down?

He reached for the buckles on his Cloth box, but his bloody hand couldn't even unfasten them. He pulled desperately on the strap, but he was just too weak. He was already spent from his fight with Shura, and the amount of travel he had done had left half of his body useless.

His hands still feeling. He reached down and could trace her sleeping face. Dreadful thoughts that he kept in the back of his head came streaming out. First, they'll tear her from his arms and toss her against the rocks. They'll make sure he watched for full satisfaction. Maybe they'll take her and throw her on a spear. What if they bashed her?

He was well aware that he will die. The horror was that she will too. "I'm sorry," he rasped. He squeezed her tighter as if he felt his confession was not enough. He pulled her tighter as the sound of footsteps came closer. Did they hear him when he fell? He tightened his useless fist and widened his eyes in determination. He heaved as he felt his heartbeat to the rhythm of the somewhat slow pace. He was a little confused. If they were that of a soldier or another Saint that was sent by Saga, they would be quick and frantic, not relaxed as if they were going for a stroll.

Aiolos swallowed hard. "Help!" he rasped, hearing his voice for the first time since the fall, realizing that he sounded eighty years older than he really was. If it was a person, he had a chance. Even if they were from Sanctuary, it wasn't like he was doing a good job hiding. He's in the middle of an open field.

A blob of a person appeared. Aside from his white hair, everything else was a big blur. He looked at his chest as a large object was hanging from his neck, possibly like an expensive camera. The hopelessness that filled him lifted. "This-is-Athena," he struggled to say. "Take her, save her." He raised her, widening his eyes, beckoning whoever this person was to take the baby as far as they could travel. He felt a set of large warm hands brush against his as they took her.

Aiolos watched as Athena gave a small glow of cosmos as if she was the sun. He heard a gasp of amazement. Perhaps the Goddess herself was helping him make his story more believable. That was good. He's not sure how much more he could talk. "Thank-" he gasped but then felt his eyes grow heavy. Everything felt like it was shutting down. He can't move his hands. He can't move his legs. Now he can't even move his mouth. He was okay with that. He had done all he could. If his last moments were that of protecting his Goddess than he felt satisfied. "Aiolia, I wish I could see you grow up. Athena, I wish I could protect you into the Holy War." He thought as he allowed his eyes to close.

"Goodbye," he thought as he finally relaxed.

Mitsumasa Kido stood there in disbelief as he gazed at the child. She was nothing like any baby he's ever seen. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something beautiful and innocent about her. "He said her name was Athena?" he thought. Was she also a Saint, or the Athena of myth and legend? He looked down at the young teenager, who looked no more than fifteen years old but had the body of a Greek statue. There was no doubt he was one of the Saints that he had seen pictures of but never encountered. His eyes turned toward his back. "A Gold Cloth?" His corporation had secretly researched the Saints for the last five years, putting together bits of old Cloths together and now there was one in front, intact and shimmering like a star. He walked over and lightly touched it. It was warm but not from resting against his body, but as if it was alive. "A centaur." He bit his lip. "Is it Centaurus or Sagittarius?" He opened the top, and a joyful glee came about him. "It's complete!" He grabbed a piece and stared hard. "It's complete!" he laughed again. He's never been this happy since the day he purchased the corporation of Nutella.

Kido jerked his head as he spotted some soldiers far away in the background. He took his camera out and pulled it over his face, using the zoom feature to see that they were the higher rank of soldiers that were in the temples of Sanctuary. They must be after Athena and the Saint.

Athena began to cry before Kido gently rocked her to calm her down. He had to get away before they spot him since he doubts he could bribe them with traveler checks and plastic. He reached over and grabbed the straps of the Gold Cloth before turning to the young man. "He's dead, poor man," Mitsumasa told himself. But curiously, he reached over and touched his neck, feeling a weak pulse. "He's going to die." He reassured himself. The man looked like he was struck by a train and dragged from behind.

He placed the baby down gently before he began the task of pulling the straps off the man's arms. As Kido did so, he stared at the teen's face as it flopped back and forth like a doll. "He's unconscious, and he's going to die," Kido reassured himself. "He weighs too much, he's done his job. He's probably thrilled about me taking Athena," he kept telling himself. But as he pulled the Cloth off one arm, he then stared hard at his face. "Just a teen." He muttered. He reached over and touched his neck. There was still a pulse as weak as it was but the way he appeared, he had a better chance of resuscitating a piece of sushi. "I can't carry the baby, the Cloth and him," he muttered.

Kido paused and looked to see the soldiers turning toward their direction. He gazed at the Cloth as the sun gave it a heavenly shine. He sighed. He should grab it. Cloths were meant to be passed down. He could give it to someone and bada-bing, a brand new Saint. Logically it was the best thing to do. Most trainees, based on his research, never lived past eight, and here this teenager was at least fifteen or sixteen years old. He's an old man compared to everyone else.

But Mitsumasa Kido gave one last sigh. Perhaps it was the weather. Maybe it was the presence of a glowing baby. Perhaps it was the fact that if his first born were alive today, he would be the young man's age.

He looked up to the sky and stared at the last traces of the constellation of Cygnus or Cygny, as his two-year-old nephew would call it, was directly above him. "Perhaps it is a sign from the heavens?" he thought as he took his knife and cut the straps off the Saint. The Pandora Box fell over, causing a few pieces to tumble and scatter on the ground. He picked up the Golden Bow and put it in his side pack. He can at least keep a piece study.

He then reached down and threw the man over his shoulder before taking his other hand to grab the baby. He took one last look at the fabled Cloth and sighed before hurrying as fast as he could. He told the helicopter pilot that he would be out all day, but if he hurried, he could catch him before he is done refilling it.

Once he reached there, he gathered his traveling medic and had him work on the Saint inside the helicopter while he continued to hold the baby. As they flew high up in the sky, he looked down at the men who he saw earlier were carrying the Cloth, most likely back to the Twelve Houses. Kido looked down as the medic was busy plugging tubes and needles into the Saint, still unsure whether he made the right choice or not.

To Be Continued…