Usual disclaimer and here we are...
Trick Or Treat Chapter 6
Relying on his cosmos enhanced senses rather than his physical senses Camus made his way quickly through the trees. He could not follow his Scorpio's trail precisely when it shot up into the branches dashing across and between them but he could still feel the ever thinning cord of cosmos Milo left in his wake. Normal cosmos leaves the prevalent emotion in it's trail but not Milo's Camus could only catch a glimpse of his emotional state at the points where he landed on the ground.
Pain. Sorrow. Despair.
Three things Camus never wanted to invoke in the Scorpio again. Before his body was laid to rest in his tomb after the Battle of Sanctuary Camus felt all this from Milo and wished feverently that things could have been different. That he had never had to go so far to test and teach Hyoga the true meanings of being an ice saint. He knew the only reason Milo had not killed Hyoga was not because the Scorpio had known both him and Isaac before they became saints but because Camus had told him not to. The feel of these point's where Milo's cosmos pooled reminded Camus too much of the countless tears the Scorpio had shed for and because of him. When everyone was resurrected properly and the treaty between the three powers signed Camus had promised himself that he would never make Milo feel that way again.
Now this situation made him break his promise and whoever is responsible will not escape his grasp. He ran down all the potential suspects in his head, the Specters were out, they had too much to lose with this. The Mariners would be attacking from the shore not appearing so high up so quickly and so were out of the question. That left the ones he had only read about in passing in a book over two hundred and fifty years old he had found by accident a few days ago. Now it seemed like fate had intended to forewarn him and for that Camus was grateful.
The Berserkers of Ares were not to be trifled with or fought easily. Phobos, who's shadow now clouded the heaven, would begin their campaigns backed up by his brother Deimos who would lead their army into battle for Ares. Of course they could not resurrect like a Specter or swim and breathe underwater like a Mariner they could regenerate from most fatal injuries. Infact in the old book it is stated that the only way to be sure a Berserker is head is to destroy the brain. Not so easily done by stabbing through the eye or by decapitation. The book warned that they were blessed with prodigious strength, incredible reflexes no matter their physical size and high amounts of adrenalin to maintain their savagery. There are seven Phantasmas each representing various negative energies, Rage, Havoc, Mayhem, Carnage, Brutality, Pride and Lust for battle.
If Phobos is busy casting his shadow then it must be Deimos who is after Milo, Camus realised increasing his pace as the trail grew warmer. Right now Milo was practically defenseless and in no condition for the sort psychological battle Deimos would put him through.
The forest suddenly opened up into a small clearing housing a rough and age worn temple. Here Milo had stopped to breathe and collect his thoughts never noticing the words carved into the marble plaque that slanted with the arch of the door. The House of Deimos. Subtle traces of divine cosmos intertwined with Milo's now leading him towards a cliff and up into the dark sky.
Two short pilars defined the space of the path Milo had taken with the divinity and just because the stairway is hidden by Phobos' shadow did not mean it was going to stop the Aquarius saint. Gathering his cosmos he stepped forward faitfully following the Scorpio's trail each step freezing the surface it touched making it visible for the others when they finally showed up.
"Hang on Milo. I'm coming for you."
to be continued...