"Do you think she'll be alright?"
There was no need for Aphrodite to further specify whom he was referring to: there was always one single person on both their minds, especially if she wasn't within their sights. Death Mask supposed he should feel insulted – after all Manigoldo was his pre-incarnation, and he should have been perfectly suited to protect their charge – but the future Cancer Saint had not been blind to the scorn and hatred that the former street-child had bestowed on young Sara, and thus he had very little hope that Helena would be treated differently.
What nobody actually knew – and if Sara had her way, it would stay a secret for eternity, because she wasn't ready to face pity and judgement – was that Manigoldo held a personal grudge towards Sara, not the Ophiucus Saint in general. While not the most talkative of beings, if the older Ophiucus didn't provoke his ire, Sara was fairly sure he wouldn't do anything to her. Granted, maybe it wasn't the best plan of action, or the greatest reassurance, but Sara knew that Helena knew what was the problem between her and Manigoldo, and so the younger healer was confident that the raven-haired girl would come back in one piece.
"Ok, girl…spill!"
The terrified scream, only partially muffled by a calloused hand that had appeared over her mouth, had all the Gold Saints, of that era or otherwise, descend onto Sara and an amused Deuteros, who had the galls to chuckle in front of Sara's nastiest glare.
"Do you want me dead, Deuteros? Because if you do that's one of the quickest ways to do it! Death by heart failure!"
"Oh don't be melodramatic! At such a young age, I think we can rule out any type of heart failure any time soon! And you would have heard me approach you, if you had paid attention to your surroundings! If this is the result of your training, I think we better schedule more sessions, 'cause it looks like you haven't yet learned!"
Stifling a groan at the prospect of more training with her Guardians – Sara wanted to bury herself somewhere very far away from Sanctuary after having worked only with two Gold Saints, so she couldn't even begin to image what Helena's life had been, working with all of them – Sara tried again to level a glare at the mad Gemini Saint, only to be interrupted by the amused chuckles of none other than Death Mask.
"You've got potential in that glare girl, but you might want to give it a little more heat!"
Biting back the offended hiss that was threatening to come out – fully aware that if she did end up hissing at them, the modern Gold Saints would think her cute instead of threatening – Sara decided to ignore entirely Death Mask and his entourage, instead moving her attention back to her still grinning Guardian.
"Did you want something, or were you just following me around? If it's the latter, let me tell you I don't really appreciate being shadowed all day long…"
"Then you just have to get used to it, little one…"
This time it had been Aphrodite who had talked, a gentle smile stretching his lips, eyes twinkling in amusement at Sara's expression of growing horror.
"Tell me you are joking! Because you are joking, right? C'mon! You don't follow Helena around all day long!"
This time the indulgent, amused chuckle came directly from the modern Pope, whose eyes betrayed the lingering sadness of the man.
"It is technically protocol, young one! Ophiucus needs one or both her Guardians with her all times; failure to comply with this, is usually seen as a preliminary act of war. Due to her peculiar upbringing Helena is the exception to the rule, but even Helena is usually followed around by Death Mask and Aphrodite, and if they cannot, one of us will take their place. You probably never noticed this because we usually don't tail her like Deuteros just did with you, we simply accompany her wherever she needs to go!"
Now that it was being pointed out to her, Sara had actually noticed that Helena never went anywhere without either her Guardians or one of the other Gold Saints.
It had seemed peculiar at first, but Sara finally understood the reason behind it, acknowledging between herself that being accompanied was better than being shadowed. Deciding to change her own arrangement to mirror that as soon as she was able, Sara let the matter drop for the moment, surreptitiously trying to get away as fast as possible, as not to be dragged into giving the very answers she was desperately trying not to give.
When she felt El Cid's iron grip on her shoulder, Sara understood that she wasn't going to go anywhere without explanations.
"Why are you trying to flee, young one? Whatever it is, we can solve it together…"
It was like Sage's kind words had forced open the dam on her feelings that Sara had been trying to keep shut for weeks.
With a chocked sob and a broken wail Sara, with all the neediness of a scared fourteen years old child, catapulted herself towards her Pope, hiding her face in the large folds of his tunic, trying and failing to keep her tears from falling.
Less shocked about the impromptu hug than the other Gold Saints – after all he had been the Pope for over two centuries and Sara was not the first child he had had to console in his long life – Sage simply hugged the shaking form of Sanctuary's new healer, patiently waiting for the sobs to die down enough to try and have a decent conversation.
After what felt like an eternity for Shion and his comrades – very much not used to the messy waterworks of a young female – Sara finally decided that she had cried enough for a lifetime, and she had possibly embarrassed herself to death in the meantime, and moved away from the former Cancer Saint, while trying to dry her tears on her sleeve.
The sudden appearance of thirteen different handkerchiefs right under her nose – all of them different, and all of them bearing some kind of symbol that helped her identify the owner at first glance – managed to bring out a meek chuckle, they grew a bit more when Sara took stock of the bewildered faces of her own comrades at the, admittedly rather cute, display.
"What the fuck are you looking at, you morons? You'll learn soon enough that an handkerchief is the least of the things you will have to carry around constantly when dealing with a woman!"
As always, Death Mask's signature finesse had his own fiancé cringe in horror at his uncouth mouth and behaviour, but, in the privacy of his own mind, Aphrodite could not help but concur with him on his assessment: during the years all of them had learnt that tissues, glasses, cardigans and, on one memorable and never again mentioned occasion, even tampons were only some of the basic necessities that were a must when dealing with both Helena and Athena.
While still offering his handkerchief, Aphrodite could not help but be proud to notice that Sara had favoured a dirty looking scrap of cloth that Kardia seemed to have taken directly from his cloak; while a bit disgusted by the unclean state of the cloth, the Pisces Saint was glad that the young Ophiucus had recognized the importance of favouring her own comrades, over their future reincarnations.
"Enough with the tears, young one! Will you tell us now what ails you? We might be able to help you after all…"
As always Rasgado's soft demeanour – despite his size and looks the Taurus Saint was the gentlest of the Golds, a fact that his students were proud to boast on every possible occasion – had the instant effect of calming the situation and, while still looking unsure and very ready to bolt at the first possible occasion, Sara decided to open up with the others. Helena had told them that the Gold Saints had the potential to become the family she had lost and, maybe, just this once Sara wanted to try and believe it.
"My brother hates me…"
The statement was cryptic enough that almost all the 18th century Gold Saints looked puzzled by it, but for three of them things could not have been clearer.
"So we were right…"
Kardia's murmured exclamation had been loud enough to be picked by Degel and, unfortunately, Sara herself.
"You knew?!"
The high-pitched squeal was swiftly followed by a flight attempt, miserably aborted when Sara caught the murderous expression on Deuteros' face. While facing the conversation might be uncomfortable and very low on the list of things the young girl wanted to do, avoiding it altogether was something that was going to get her killed in the slowest way possible, if she was reading correctly Gemini's expression.
Trying to get the answers she wanted – and those all revolved around knowing since when the three of them had known and how much of a fool she had made herself look like – Sara squared her shoulders and fixed her gaze in Kardia's eyes.
"How long have you known? Was I…"
Quickly figuring out what she was trying to ask, and thus sparing her at least part of her embarrassment, El Cid decided to answer his protégé.
"Nobody noticed anything, if that's what you are worried about! As for us, we have suspected something like this since you told Helena where you come from and we confirmed it when she said that every Ophiucus Saint is granted a new soul when becoming one with the Cloth, and that previous looks won't matter after the transformation…"
So they had known all along, practically even before she was aware of it herself. At this new piece of information Sara could not help but hung her head dejectedly; she must have looked like a right idiot all this time! And worse, if they hadn't said anything, it was probably because they thought she was a pitiful girl, unworthy of being loved by her own brother nonetheless.
"Don't put ourselves in the same category as you put him! We didn't say anything because we weren't sure if we had it right, and frankly it wasn't any of our business. Plus we, stupidly, thought that giving you two time and space to rediscover each other without external interferences would have resulted in a better outcome. Had we known he would have rejected you, we would have said something…"
True to himself, El Cid had not apologised to his young charge, but the chagrined tone and his choice of words were as close to an apology than anybody, save for Sisiphus, had ever gotten out of him.
Waving away his apology – while she had appreciated his support, it wasn't anybody's fault if her brother had rejected her – Sara managed to produce a weak, bitter smile that saddened everybody instead of reassuring them.
"It's ok El Cid…you cannot always protect me from everything…it was stupid of me to want to try and create a bond between us, when I know that my Cloth is a difficult burden to carry…"
The modern Gold Saints had started to get an inkling of who the young girl was talking about, and while chagrined by the fact that prejudice about Ophiucus could ruin a brotherly relationship, they were internally relieved to hear Sara call Ophiucus her Cloth; nothing good ever came from those instances when a host had refused the Snake Master.
Given that there was only one Gold Saint missing from the premises – and Sara had almost never left the Twelve Houses so there had been little interaction between her and the rest of Sanctuary – Sage and the others had no difficulty in catching up whom Sara was referring to.
A loud smack, followed by what everybody could only suppose were curses – no one in Sanctuary had figured out where Albafica was from, and the man in question had always kept his mouth closed shut on the topic – announced the world that the Pisces Saint had been thoroughly impressed – and not in a good way – by the intrinsic stupidity of his chosen companion.
"He spends half his time whining about the fact that he's never had the chance of seeing his little sister grow up and when he finally has the chance to meet her, he acts like the stupid idiot he is!"
While knowing there had to be something they were missing, Sage could not help but agree wholeheartedly with Albafica's statement. He as well had been an unwilling subject of many whining speeches by Manigoldo, and he had also been asked, more times he could count, to go and scour Hell in hopes of finding the young girl's soul there. When it had become clear that she hadn't died, Manigoldo had asked all the missions that could take him outside Sanctuary, trying to find his missing sister.
Finding her had become almost an obsession of his young pupil, and now that he had found her – or better yet, she had found him – Sage had difficulty in understanding why Manigoldo was acting like this towards her.
"He doesn't hate you…"
No question, no supposition, just an iron certainty. Death Mask might not have known the whole story, he might not have known Manigoldo intimately, but he knew how he would have acted if he had been in the same situation.
For all they had seen that Helena, and Sara, were not dangerous to Sanctuary and Athena, Manigoldo and the others had been brought up with the scary stories of the Fallen Cloth, the traitor of Sanctuary. It had taken Death Mask and Aphrodite a long time before believing that the Ophiucus Cloth would not end up killing them in their sleep, and they had been living with Helena day in and day out. It had taken even longer for all their companions to see beyond the legends and into the soul of a young girl they had helped raise. The fact that almost all of their pre-incarnations had taken to Sara almost without prejudices, was a remarkable fact, that Death Mask knew was due more to their presence in the midst than to something else.
That one of the Gold Saints still harboured distrust towards the Ophiucus Saint was to be expected. Still, Death Mask was quite sure that Manigoldo's eventual distrust of the Cloth had nothing to do with his interactions with his younger sister.
"How can you be so sure? Being his reincarnation doesn't mean you know exactly how he reacts to everything…"
"I know, girl! And believe, that is not the reason…I am sure he doesn't hate you, because he had done exactly what I would have done, had I been in his position…"
"Explain, Cancer!"
Albafica's bossy tone, so similar to Aphrodite's, brought a smirk on Mask's face; he could have refused him an answer, after all it was common knowledge that he didn't like to be bullied into things, but the Cancer Saint thought that there would be no harm in conceding the point this time.
"From what you told me, Manigoldo spent the last decade trying to find Sara either in the land of the dead or in the one of the living. Finding her here, in Sanctuary, donning one of the Cloths – incidentally a Gold one and the only one linked to a long list of deadly legends – was the one thing he wanted less in the world. It doesn't really matter that she is wearing Ophiucus – even if that definitely didn't help. It is the fact that she is wearing a Cloth, training to be a Saint, preparing herself for battle, that he cannot stand. I can imagine that where he comes from, women have to be protected and cared for, younger sisters even more so. A battlefield is not the place for a woman in his mind, especially not his younger sister. He isn't angry at you, he is angry at himself…"
Apparently he and Manigoldo had more in common than he would have thought; having grown up in the modern world, Death Mask had had to curb his cavalier instincts, especially around Helena, lest he ended up offending her. Helena was the child of a different culture than his own, an older sister, and the heiress of both a dangerous Cloth and a huge economic empire. She had learnt to stand her ground at an early age, and she had clearly stated, on more than one occasion, that she had felt smothered by Cancer's hyper protective instincts. It had taken them both the better part of their first year together to find some kind of common ground between his almost obsessive desire to shield her, and her own wild streak.
The fact that he had lost his younger sister had only served to increase his paranoia. The years, and Helena's own growth, had softened somewhat his approach, but they still fought from time to time, when Death Mask thought she was being reckless and tried to lock her in a room, and Helena told him, in no uncertain terms, that his paranoia wasn't welcomed.
Some days it was gruelling work, but the end result made it more than worth it.
Manigoldo and Sara were, apparently, at the starting point of that journey. Death Mask wasn't an idiot, and he was perfectly aware of the fact that, when he and Helena had stood at the beginning of their own journey, someone – he still didn't know who – had told Helena the same things he was now telling Sara. Having had an insight on his way of thinking had been what had brought Helena back to him, making her willing to compromise also for his sake. He knew very well that, had she not been told the story, she would never have tried to see beyond his abysmal and misogynistic behaviour. Death Mask still didn't know who was the person to whom he owed his relationship with Helena, but he could be the one to explain things to Sara this time, hoping that, like Helena before her, she would see beyond Manigoldo's hurtful and cruel words and into his heart.
Judging from Sara's pensive expression, it looked like his job had been done splendidly. They were going to be fine, provided Manigoldo managed not to blotch it spectacularly!
"That was…unexpected…"
With this admission, much of Sara's previous depression had melted away, only to be replaced by a rather intriguing fire.
"But that doesn't excuse his abysmal behaviour! If he's got something to say, then he better learn to say it in front of my face, because this hurtful routine will not cut anymore!"
When Sara's words were met with amused laughter, and promises to help her straighten up the wayward Cancer, Death Mask let his eyes roam the room, finally meeting the cerulean orbs of his Goddess, spying the scene from behind one of the columns.
Exchanging a knowing smile and a wink with her, Death Mask finally permitted his anxiety over Helena's fate to melt away. Now that he had discovered that Manigoldo was not angry at the Ophiucus Saint in general, but he was specifically targeting his younger sister, he could breath easier.
Helena would not be in danger, but if she knew the true reason behind the brotherly squabble, than Manigoldo's life would become a living Hell!
