Chapter 3: "Inner Flame"
Disclaimer: I do not own Saint Seiya. A little bit of spoilers in the author's note.
There's also mention of blood, so the rating will go up for this chapter.
'When deprived of one sense, it is said that all other senses are heightened.'
Camus was holding sorely onto this adage as he was wandering alone,
through the dark rocky Greek hills, not letting the gloomy surroundings get to him.
Even so, he stumbled with his left foot against a firm rock, making him almost lose his balance.
Then the sharp end of a bush cut him undeeply in his lower uncovered right leg.
'Mince alors !' he silently cursed in his native French, while rubbing profoundly his hands in his face,
attempting at expelling the suffocating cloud inside his head.
The Aquarius Saint failed miserably at reminiscing why he landed here in the first place.
The subtle aching that crept up in his scratched right leg, enhanced the only dazzling impression that came to mind.
Red, like blood.
That fiery imprint was the last thing the Aquarius Saint remembered before tumbling in the middle of nowhere.
Camus even doubted for a moment that he was still in Greece, inwardly cursing his almost non-existing memory,
abandoning him at this most crucial time.
Despite that, on Camus' faint path, a rich salty smell reached his nostrils,
a clear indication that would lead him undoubtedly to the sea.
With anticipation, Camus focused on the sea, engulfing the idea of the rich and deep water into himself.
Unluckily the encouraging thought quickly transformed in an unwanted sense of drowning,
leading him unconsciously once again to his blocked mind. Blinking a couple of times,
the Aquarius Saint could only distinguish smothering somber shades all around him.
The idea of 'being lost' that was locked deep in the back of Camus' mind, resurfaced ferociously.
Camus exhaled deeply, titling his head, scanning the blackest of skies with white stars unravelled.
And there he spotted it, amongst the dots in the immensity, stretching for eternity above him.
The brightest star of the Scorpio constellation, the clearest of all
'Rouge.'
Camus whispered Antares' colour in a single breath, relieved a familiar entity
made a stunning appearance in his desolate night. Nevertheless, the clear red sight
triggered the same aching in his chest along with a 'burning' reaching his throat,
making the air barely breathable, bringing him against his will on his exhausted knees,
sinking more deeply on the ground and his unwelcoming surroundings.
Eventually the Aquarius Saint steadied his ragged breath while holding a hand against his heart,
while the other hand remained on the ground for his balance.
'Pourquoi ?' Camus kept asking himself 'why' as he violently shook his head.
As a last resort, the Aquarius Saint stood up laboriously while shutting his eyes,
centering with difficulty on himself, steadying his breath with long inhalings and exhalings,
resulting in the beating of his heart returning to a normal pace
and entering as such a profound meditating state.
Camus' Cosmos gradually opened up, energized by the specific luminous stars of the Aquarius constellation,
finalising the connection to the 'Water Bearer', the protective state at last attained as a full circle.
The Aquarius Saint at last relaxed, his confidence peaking again, resuming his trek 'out' of the dark hills,
hopefully to the liberating sea. Along, the warm night air turned gently into a welcoming companion,
bringing some kind of solace to his once disoriented persona.
Without warning, a strong familiar Cosmos flashed out of nowhere, brushing against his own.
Together came the embodiement of the fiery aura, faintly visible in the distance,
near the precipice leading to the much sought sea. A muscular dark silhouette,
with crossed bandaged arm, and distinctive long indigo hair, waving gently with the salty breeze.
Camus stopped briefly in his footsteps, piercing his eyes, before moving towards this familiar individual.
The Aquarius Saint observed that the latter was fixated on the dark agitated panorama,
caught up in his train of thoughts, standing too close on the verge of the dark cliffs,
waves crashing violently beneath.
While taking a deep breath, Camus reflected on the appropriate sentence to utter to his comrade,
vigilant about 'not' startling the other, which could trigger unwanted erratic reactions.
And even though Camus was freshly aware that the other sensed his unhidden Aquarius Cosmos,
he wanted to be extra careful, especially due to the peculiar circumstances.
Even if it's impossible to be perfectly prepared for the 'unexpected' retorts of the other Gold Saint.
Stepping as nearest as possible to the other, Camus muttered the other's name in the most delicate way,
even too delicate for himself he had to admit, almost inaudible due to the waves smashing
against the rocks underneath them.
"Milo... ?"
Some time elapsed before the Scorpio Saint slightly sighed while taking a step back from the edge of the hills.
He glanced quickly at Camus, half of his face covered in his indigo hair, mystery written all over it.
The Aquarius Saint portrayed his usual cool demeanor in front of him, appearing unaffected,
wearing a mask of aloofness, although he knew it was just a facade,
the only one aware that his own breath was caught up in his throat,
tiny bits of red vision still appearing out of the blue before him.
Regardless of that, Camus was glad that Milo at last disentangled himself from the void before him,
weirded out of not being able at reading the Scorpio Saint, whom could most of the time be read like an 'open book'.
In fact, Milo was an open book to Camus, easily decipherable, especially during all those years.
But for the first time, the book was somehow closed, a door which was always 'open' locked twice,
the key thrown out somehow, and Camus had the impression the tables turned drastically on him.
'What the hell had happend before ? And why did his mind play tricks on him ?'
Clear azure eyes locked with dark blue ones, both of Gold Saints unable to speak due to this intolerable amnesia.
Camus felt his heartbeat speeding up again, the unknown grasping at his throat
and Milo taking too much time to engage with him in some kind of pointless, yet comforting conversation.
Both of them stuck in some kind of limbo.
'The sun... will come up soon', Milo at last barely whispered.
The Scorpio Saint set his bewildered gaze on the dark blue ocean again, still numb regardless
of the pain lingering on and in his arms, on his turn slowly waking up from this nightmare,
with only traces of blood on his arms and minuscule residu of ice crystals.
'Ice crystals… ?' Camus blinked at the particals… He almost couldn't contain his astonishment
The bright yellow horizon line suddenly lit up, dramatically dividing the sky and the sea,
Rays of sun breaking and stretching afar to reach the two speechless Gold Saints, jaws almost dropping.
The yellow light caressing the blue vastness, with figments of shiny celestial pearls on the surface,
the spectacle extending as far as the eye could see.
Liberating himself from the breathtaking view, Milo sat on the dusty rocks,
letting his legs wander in the void above, with the deep blue ocean situated hundreds of metres below,
shaken by the repetitive sound of the waves.
The Aquarius Saint didn't adopt Milo's stance but advanced next to him,
while Milo stretched his bandaged right arm afar in the emptiness, letting a white strand or two coming loose.
The Scorpio Saint's handpalm faced upwards, cupping the upcoming bright sun in his hand.
Gazing below, Camus couldn't but notice Milo's mesmerizing sunkissed face, fully covered with light,
his eyes dazzling like turquoise jewels, indigo hair fluttering graceful with the wind.
Subsequently, the Aquarius Saint clearly spotted the visible traces of blood on Milo's arms
coming through the bandages, a deep red against clear white.
The sight alone made Camus' chest ignite with an inner hurt he couldn't trace back its origin.
Like pain and despair were lurking dangerously on the horizon. Unaware of Camus's agitations
and inspection of his arms, Milo posed quietly below to his comrade,
"When did you know ?"
Startled by the question, Camus broke his stare on Milo's arms and inquired:
"... when did I know what?"
"That you were chosen for the life of a 'Gold Saint' ?"
Milo added, while letting his both arms rest next to his thighs on the rocky ground,
his eyes still set on the magnificent event before him.
The question triggered a whirlwind of reactions inside of Camus,
however, he managed at remaining composed to his comrade, intrigued at the same time where Milo was getting at,
the shut off book of the Scorpio Saint opening up little by little again, and so Camus answered in one breath:
"...I knew it as far as I can remember."
Milo bend his head as a response, his purple locks covering half of his face,
'troubled' as if Camus' cryptic response didn't suffice.
The veil of mystery slightly uncovered around the Scorpio Saint,
gave the impression to Camus that he left Milo bereft of secret answers he required.
Eventually the Aquarius Saint decided to sit down next to the Scorpio Saint,
only letting one leg loose in the emptiness, not mirroring entirely Milo's relaxed demeanor.
His other leg, half covered with his long flowing teal hair, was held tightly against his chest,
Reassured, only him was catching the acceleration of the beats of his heart,
whilst keeping calm to Milo.
"My affinity with the cold elements were visible at a very young age. I connected with them naturally."
Camus peacefully explained, though melancholy was starting to creep up on him.
Milo turned wholly to face Camus only some inches apart and asked with piercing inquiring eyes,
"Even in France ? It has a moderate climate if I recall ?"
Camus couldn't hold his close comrade's gaze on him for too long, neither the uncomfortable proximity
Milo was attempting at. It was the Scorpio Saint's usual way of communication, which contradicted extremely
with his and to which he never got accustomed to. If he'll 'ever' get accustomed to it.
Instead, the Aquarius Saint turned his eyes on the blue ocean again, clamping on 'his' element of water,
which brought some reassurance, while undergoing this young's man interrogation.
Camus put both his arms as far as possible behind his back onto the ground, leaning on the uneven dusty rocky place
he was uneasily sitting on. He could pick up the Scorpio Saint's unbroken focus on him,
his senses unexpectedly set on maximum, following his every movement.
"You are French, no ?" Milo stubbornly argumented.
'As usual, the young man just couldn't let it go. This is so typical of him.'
Camus deducted that Milo was again being his usual self,
but the reasons of his questions left Camus bereft of the answers he also required,
so he decided to go along with the Scorpio Saint's enigmatic round of questions, hopefully ending with satisfactory answers.
So Camus unwillingly continued with:
"In fact...the Alps... the highest peak of Europe is located in France.
I left the mountain region when I was 6, off to Siberia."
"That young ?" Camus gazed back at Milo, discovering the glimpse of concern emanating from his face.
The Aquarius Saint returned his comrade's sympathy, continuing his revelations to an eager Milo:
"To fully master the harsh coldness, I had to push my limits through training.
Something I couldn't do in my home country."
Milo's eyes starred back at his own legs in the void declaring:
"Even at that young age, your mind was already made up."
Playing with his fingers with the rare vegetation growing in the harsh environment,
Milo was not acquainted with a new Camus displaying in front of him,
the Aquarius Saint curiously put less resistance than normal to Milo's inquiry.
So Milo followed with another question, almost afraid the Aquarius Saint would close up again:
"Siberia...not far from Asgard ?"
Mostly Camus was not talkative, the Scorpio Saint had to practically drag information out of him.
Or the two of them could sit in silence all day, pathetically imitating the glaciers of Siberia.
This was the established and unspoken dynamic between them for years, ever since they've met.
But not today.
Camus answered unperturbed with:
"I trained at the border of Asgard. It's not that distant from Siberia."
The indigo haired young man broke a yellow brownish piece of grass between him and Camus, and held it in his mouth,
letting it hang, barely chewing on it. He almost seemed annoyed having himself brought up the topic of 'Asgard'
to Camus. Blaming on himself that they were drifting miles 'off topic'.
Untroubled by the annoyed sight of Milo, Camus airily smirked:
"If you are referring to the 'God Warriors' of Asgard, Milo..."
The Scorpio Saint mouth opened a bit, closing immediately as if he wanted to say something he would regret later on.
The Aquarius Saint chuckled at that and carried on, releasing Milo from his sudden malaise, something the latter couldn't hide very well.
"Why did I chose for 'Athena' you mean ?"
Milo let the piece of grass fall on his lap, while rearranging his indigo locks on his shoulders,
then he held his hands around his waist, and answered while flashing a content look at Camus:
"You easily deducted I was getting at that point."
'Were they reaching that crucial point of their pointless conversation ?' Camus internally hoped.
The Aquarius Saint sat straight again, at eye-level with the Scorpio Saint,
despite breaking eye contact after a few seconds and staring at the blue sea again,
getting clearer for as the day was breaking in full glory.
Camus explained further, piercing lightly his eyes.
"I could have chosen for Odin, the God and Protector of Asgard, true. It would have been a more logical choice.
But deep-down Athena has always been my Goddess, my 'calling'. So I wanted to be a Gold Saint. "
Nonetheless, a wave of nostalgia emerging from Camus' icy dark blue eyes reached Milo's,
too complex for him to decipher the real reason behind it. With that said, Milo sensed that 'question time' with Camus was over.
Looking back at his bandaged arms the Scorpio Saint carried on with:
"Sometimes the path we choose to walk in the end, cannot be put into words.
It's like it suddenly takes an unexpected turn."
Camus could only but nod at that, his eyes fixated once more on the pure sea before him.
He 'could' have revealed to Milo the contained heartbreak, replying with:
'It's complicated. Things didn't quite worked out like I've planned.'
But merely uttering those words to Milo, even if his heart had this intense longing of release,
would have reopened an old wound that never fully scarred properly.
Camus' heart closed off a long time ago, bandaged with guilt from the past, only to be unlocked someday.
His own book remained closed since that fateful day, the Aquarius Saint's words secretly echoed in his heart:
'To fullfil my promise to someone I held dear... my promise to him ... because of the mistake I made back then...'
The sun fully emerged from the sea with its blinding hot rays, near at entirely engulfing both Gold Saints.
Camus and Milo shutting off their eyes as a reflex, legs and feet in the emptiness with the ocean underneath them,
letting the sound of the waves fill in the tranquility between them.
Camus didn't know the exact amount of time that had passed by between him and Milo.
Gradually, he opened his eyes, peering at his half-dormant comrade, whom had halfly let his head fall back,
violet hair falling gracefully as a cascade.
An ethereal vision appearing before Camus, enhanced with the way
the Scorpio Saint enjoyed the morning sun, the small droplets of sweat breaking on his tanned skin,
the steady peaceful breaths he took between parted lips, his chest moving slightly with underneath his beating heart.
It was as though they both woke up from a sweet dream.
Disentangling himself from the golden daze, and well aware that Milo's scars were not something that Camus dreamt of,
catching a glimpse of them just to be sure, he worked out that the time was now.
"Have you recovered ?" Camus inquired guardily.
Milo tilted his head towards him, half opening his shiny eyes, clearly fullfilled after the sunbath.
Now that his question was out, Camus didn't mind without offending, watching at the bandaged arms of Milo.
"The warmth of the sun helps to ease the injuries and accelerate the scarring. Let's say it's a natural balm."
Milo pretty near yawned while stretching his arms above his legs.
"That is your element, Milo."
Camus carried on, this time not breaking his look onto Milo.
"My element ?" A wide-eyed Milo caught the unwavering gaze of Camus, reluctant at connecting the dots.
Milo held one hand on the other bandaged arm, turning his arm a bit to let the back of it show.
Camus was perplexed that it also showed signs of blood. The sight hidden until now showed the gravity of the attack
that took place not so long ago and of which he didn't have any recollection, only of the piercing red,
triggering an aching burn in his chest, of pain and despair.
Not letting the aggravated revelations get to him, but instead searching for a sort of conselation for himself and Milo,
Camus pointed now on his turn to the magnificent object in full glory, partially mirroring Milo's gesture of before.
"The sun."
Milo's eyes filled with an inexplicable sadness as he pondered over his inexplicably damaged arms:
"...it's fire..."
Abruptly, the Scorpio Saint recalled waking up on the cold floor of his Scorpio Temple,
flashes of his arms covered in blood, tears streaming down his face, an unstoppable wild river.
And then on his bare chest, residu of ice crystals, which seemed to have vanished now.
Only the glacial sentiment seemed to resist its disappearance.
Milo held his hand over his pounding heart, switching uncontrollably between the past and the present,
catching glimpses of Camus and his undecipherable look.
This facade of Camus was the final drop to make the vase flow over for Milo.
An intolerable inaction which characterized the Aquarius Saint perfectly,
made the Scorpio Saint stand up proudly in front of him, still sitting,
Milo bend his head a little and asked seriously, almost menacingly, to his comrade:
"Is that the reason you are here Camus ?"
The Aquarius Saint blinked at the Scorpio Saint's words, in his turn unable at forming any words,
perplexed Milo changed dramatically in an instant, almost ready to strike him,
hypnotized by Milo's eyes, a sadness transforming drastically into crimson anger.
'Something was, in a sense, the last drop to make the vase run over', Camus dreaded,
but which he also completely understood.
He would have also harboured the same feelings as Milo's. Nonetheless, the displayed reaction
would have been completely different, if so the opposite of Milo's.
Camus wouldn't have let his anger take control over him, nor let it show, or acted on it.
Milo lowered further his head towards Camus, still unmovingly clutched to the ground,
while pointing out his red bandaged arms and pointing then back at his fellow Gold Saint,
slowly turning more pale, like he was seeing a ghost, unreal in this world.
The Aquarius Saint sank more into the ground, mentally and physically,
wondering again what could have possibly triggered Milo with this rapid change of behavior.
'The sight of blood and Antares were most likely linked...somehow...',
Camus thought, just like he experienced before in the dark hills.
Guilt unwillingly taking over him, for the fact he didn't have any answers, nor did Milo so it seemed now,
seeing him in such a state of panic and anger.
Or that he was unable at finding answers, giving the much sought answers to his comrade.
And the ice crystals...
Was what Camus dreaded the most, was that for something he maybe did or did not do to Milo,
being unmasked of a crime or an offense he committed. A situation he never faced before, the total unknown for both of them.
A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions took hold of the Aquarius Saint, almost pushing his over the edge of the tolerable,
as a response he clenched his lips while his head started to violently spin again.
As a defence he adverted Milo's continuous violent gaze on him,
hating deep-down this kind of confrontation between them,
preferring to flee, to even disappear if given the choice.
To go as far away from him as possible, to let him cool down.
Seeing Milo balding his fists, sensing his Scorpio Cosmos inflaming, the red nail of Scarlet Needle slightly appearing,
ready to unleash his temper on him, Camus hoped his poor answer to the Scorpio would suffice:
"Milo,...I don't know what happened...I don't remember..."
Blinking a couple of times and against all odds, this naked honesty made Milo stop his hostility against Camus,
his Cosmos level reducing for not sensing an immediate danger,
almost only seeing in the Aquarius Saint the face of an innocent child, hidden behind his angelic indifferent face,
emotionless, softening Milo to his core and making him retreat instantly.
Waves of relief washed over Camus as Milo relaxed his stance before him.
Nevertheless, they were back at square one. Back to nowhere. Back to oblivion. All the while their pride took a big hit.
There were no words. Only thoughts which never reached the other's.
Confusion and vagueness. Contrasting heavily with the daybreak.
The day turned in a way into the night.
The sweet dream into the nightmare.
Once again.
The void between Camus and Milo was now reigned by a thick coldness, unknowingly unleashed by the master of ice himself,
and making him in turn retreat deeply in himself. Camus' unreadable eyes and mind returned to a normal state of isolation,
unreadable as usual, blocking any kind of reaction from the inside and outside.
Stopping all actions. Returning the order to chaos.
On his part, Milo could only sense helplessness through Camus' impassivity,
touching only the endless depth of the Aquarius' icy dark blue gaze,
this melancholy making him in turn feel uncomfortable, only wanting to escape its grip.
It was the perfect excuse for the Scorpio Saint to depart to the Temple of Scorpio,
left defeated before a regretful battle between him and the Aquarius Saint could even begin.
In time, maybe, the answers will unravel themselves, Milo inwardly rationalized, still calming the storm
that was ready to take over him. That impulsivity mostly always took him by surprise, even now he had to harness
this beast inside of him. Not letting his urges get the better hand of him.
And a person like Camus was maybe the best at helping him reach that state of peacefulness that Milo so yearned for.
So, walking away from this all didn't resemble the Scorpio Saint. It took a lot of effort and self-control. Especially now.
And a fight between two Gold Saints at the edge of the Holy Sanctuary, when some Gold Saints where already missing, hiding
on the other side of the globe as the rumour says, was the only way at preserving the frail peace and stability on Earth.
Disappointed in Camus, but mostly in himself, Milo reluctantly turned away, leaving a stoic Aquarius Saint on the dusty rocks.
The Scorpio Saint wandered over the highlighted rocky path, leading way to the center of the Holy Sanctuary.
Pride and respect ruling above all, especially above forbidden personal matters.
The 'Greater Good', as some priests called it, standing in the way of the resolve between him and Camus.
As such, retreat to the Holy Sanctuary was the only way, in order to find other sources to energize oneself,
to find solace in the lack of instant answers.
Sadly, Milo suspected the only thing he would find here, could only break him. Not because the answers he would get
would maybe unsettle him, but because the 'means' to get them would be treacherous and so unworthy of a Gold Saint.
Watching Milo walking further away, sparked something inside of Camus.
With this one action on Milo's behalf, walking away, one atom in movement, returning the undesirable chaos in Camus' orderned world.
Camus felt like all of his senses were shut off with only one remaining.
The most important one was heightened in a sense, in this break of dawn.
His instinct, gut instinct took over him. Annihilating all other senses.
Suddenly Camus recalled what made him come here in the first place. Him calling out with his cosmos and Milo responding to his,
eventually leading him here, on the border between high land and the lower sea. Like a moth to a flame.
But mostly that he was firstly lost in a desert place, darkness surrounding him, no recollection of the past events.
And a sky with a red star, calling him in the distance, far above him. Aching in his heart, burn, pain, despair, all intertwined,
ice crystals and a red star.
And so it struck him like a fierce lighthing before a thunderstorm inside of him.
And the only choice Camus was left with was to ask the young man whom was walking further away, with a defeated demeanor and a lost gaze.
Milo, he whom maybe held the key to past mysterious events.
Camus asked softly with almost a forgiving tone from behind him:
"What does it feel like ?"
Milo scoffed vaguely while marching some steps farther away from Camus,
almost refusing to answer his comrade, his inner storm still not fully under control:
"...what... does 'what' feel like 'Camus' ?"
The name only not to be voiced breezily inside Camus' mind, like water dancing flowing, 'l'aiguille écarlate', therein lied the answer ?
If maybe...
Thus remaining composed, Camus went against his nature, liberating the only action, thumping loudly in the cage of his mind,
at last setting free. Milo could feel the hesitation in Camus' voice as he uttered his special attack:
"The Scarlet Needle ?"
Stopping abruptly in his steps, his back still turned on Camus, the Scorpio Saint's eyes gradually widened,
like the mere expression of the word igniting Milo's Cosmos once again. Challenging him. Tintelating.
Likewise, Milo could feel the aura emanating from Camus transforming.
The Aquarius Cosmos was opening up, defrosting, warming up.
And with the speed of light was calling out the Cosmos of the Scorpio Saint. The opposite of what happened before.
Camus stood up and stepped nearer to Milo, each step he took almost took his breath away, his entire core was shaking,
like he wasn't responsible for this single action, this time it was him whom was using for the first time,
'proximity' as a way of contact. As the only way. He was using Milo's own technique.
Intentionally realing Milo back into the conversation, which almost hit rock bottom a moment ago,
Camus requested calmly yet determingly at the same time, the same storm reigning inside of him.
The flame ignited and on the verge of setting everything on fire if not contained.
"You must have endured it to gain your Scorpio Cloth I presume ?"
Milo's jaw dropped a bit, his blood starting to boil in his veins again, he was clutched to the floor,
unable to move, himself closing off now.
Wondering if Milo heard him correctly, Camus waited for a reaction, which seemed like a lifetime,
himself blanking at the release of his courageous thought, this single action which changed everything between them.
The Scorpio Saint woke up from his daze, instinctively brushing some fingers over his bandaged arms,
catching glimpses of Camus. He was waiting.
'Antares', Milo nervously uttered to himself.
Milo looked back at Camus, hitching a couple of times, whispering, admitting in his own way:
"I remember something, 'you' were there, but…"
Freeing himself from this bedazzlement, while admitting some facts,
Marking each step confidently, a smirk flashing briefly,
Milo closed the last inches with an almost retreating Camus, but holding his stance,
chest against chest, puffing almost too loudly, sweat breaking again, the energy of their strong golden Cosmos palpable,
enhancing at light speed.
Blazing his fellow Gold Saint with a defiant look, the blood underneath the scarlet needle faintly visible, ready to strike,
Milo snapped back at a startled yet unmoving Camus:
"You want to know what it feels like Camus ? Well I'll tell you,
It's a pain beyond compare. Insanity and death combined. With the loss of all senses."
Taking some time to let the charged words seep through his chaotic mind, casting aside the deep red installing in Milo's gaze,
As though by uttering the Scorpio's attack, the dreaded key to the mysterious events finally fit the hole.
Camus finally shot back a determined look at Milo, the perfect ice breaker, and almost demanded from him:
"Then show me."
A/N: so, what did you think of this chapter ?
Was it what you expected of it ? Feedback is always appreciated !