Thanks to Corculum, I'm updating this fic once again, in spite of the 'on hold' notice in my profile. I should really change that, I guess, seeing as I continue to get inspired by this story. Ah, well.
As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I'm sticking mostly to dubbed facts and names, because that's what I'm familiar with and I'm afraid that if I start switching I'll inevitably screw something up and that wouldn't be good. I'm also sticking with anime things, instead of manga, because I haven't had the chance to read any of the manga, I'm sad to say. That being said, if you do spot mistakes or discrepancies, let me know and I'll happily make the correction.
Disclaimer: I don't own Saint Seiya. If I did, Sienna would be a heck of a lot less annoying, and Jamian's crows possibly might've dropped her. Also, Hyoga and Shun would have much more screen time.
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Provoking Temptation
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It was cold, enough so that if water was flung high into the air from a glass it would fall to Earth as a shower of ice crystals. To Hyoga, the weather was perfect. He harbored a distant memory of a warm, humid climate where his hair and clothes stuck to him like a second skin. But here, where snow covered the ground as far as the eye could see and the sky was clear and stretched on forever, was home. Nothing else within his mind could ever hope to compare.
He strode through the snow, listening with a deep sense of contentment to the crunch and squeak of it underfoot. His breath misted the air in front of him, and then trailed away in a slight northern breeze that ruffled through his hair like familiar fingers welcoming him back. Swan crested a powdered slope and stopped mid-step, warming instantly from the sight that met his eyes.
Sensei, the word drifted through his mind. In a flash he was running, sliding down the hill, sending showers of white up around him whenever a foot touched the ground. He stumbled once, getting a face full of snow, but Hyoga was too happy, too young at heart to care. The cold meant nothing to him, it never really had. He would happily roll in the snow from sheer relief to be back where he belonged, but there was someone whom he had to see first.
When he reached the door, cheeks red and breath a fog about his head, Hyoga pounded a fist against the door. More snow showered down from the laden roof and with a smile the swan shook it from his unruly blond hair. Another knock, another shower, and his smile grew. "Sensei, open up! It's me."
The door opened with a slight grate of wood on wood and before breathless Hyoga stood the Crystal Saint, his master and teacher since childhood. The man smiled, welcomed him with his eyes as swan stepped across the threshold and into the interior of the small cabin. As he set food on the dry wooden floor, Hyoga was momentarily overcome with a feeling of vertigo. The hot, humid memory warmed his back and, as he turned to look behind himself for the source, he thought he could almost see a tangle of dark green foliage, of brightly colored flowers and insects of sizes that should never walk the earth.
But just as quickly as this vision assailed his senses, sending warnings of caution and worry to the back of his mind, it was gone and cold Siberian wind buffeted his cheeks. Crystal closed the door, talking to him softly, remarking on how wonderful it was to see him, how he hoped it wasn't too cold out for his fellow warrior of ice. Hyoga smiled, doubts and fears forgotten, driven away by the cold comfort of the world he grew up in.
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"Curiosity killed the cat, eh Swan?" a rather cheerful voice quipped from the branches of a nameless tree. A figure dropped gracefully to the jungle floor next to the mesmerized saint of ice, smile wide and satisfied. "Too bad you don't even know the trap you're in." He slapped a hand on Hyoga's shoulder in good nature, finding the situation quite amusing. It was quickly withdrawn when it met with freezing metal, and it was then that he realized his breath was visible.
The figure wore armor similar to that of the bronze saints, light and mobile. His sported colorful shards of metal crafted in the shape of feathers, the end result leaving him nestled in bright plumage that was not out of place among the wildlife of the jungle. A segmented feathery tail arced down from his waist, in much the same manner of the three tails of Pheonix. Smiling jade eyes looked between the still saint and the unassuming sphere nestled in discarded foliage.
"I suppose I shouldn't gloat, seeing as no one's listening, but it's not every day one manages to capture an outlaw without hardly lifting a finger." The captor removed three more small balls from on his person and began to lazily juggle them. "I wonder what you're seeing? Wherever you are, it's cold."
A rustle to his left caused the colorful knight to fall silent, though his balls remained in motion. Seconds later found a second unknown figure stumbling through the undergrowth, mildly cursing as vines clung to his pants. "I hate this place," he said, wiping sweat and hair from his eyes. "Oh, you got him. Good job." He flashed the other a smile.
"Andy, I could have killed you just now with all the noise you were making. Hell, you're lucky that frost boy here is caught or he would've iced you good."
Andy, devoid of any armor himself save sparkling golden bands crisscrossing up his arms, smiled sheepishly. He ran a hand through his tussled cinnamon hair; blue eyes watched the dancing spheres seemingly float through the air. "Sorry, Apus. I didn't get as much training as you on stealth." He slowly approached the captivated saint. "He's really caught?"
Apus nodded, concentration back on his juggling. "He gave a start once, when something didn't quite click, but it's all smoothed out." A laugh. "Swan probably wants to be deceived so bad that he won't accept the idea that maybe it's not real."
"Do you think he's seeing his mother?" Andy asked, staring into the dead eyes of Hyoga. "We were told that she's a driving figure in his life."
"Either her or his former master." Apus shrugged. "He really has few choices for what he wants outta life. A shame really, but it makes my job all the easier." The balls ceased their flight and dropped neatly into his hands. "Any word about the other two?"
"Oh!" Andy perked up, suddenly remembering why he'd come barging in on his team member. "Yes, Ori has them sighted and he's following. They, uh, almost heard me when I went to get his report," he said, another nervous smile flicking across his lips, "but we weren't found out. He's waiting for a go ahead."
"Well give him one," the colorful saint said, grinning. "We don't want anyone to be left out, do we?"
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Shun groaned as consciousness descended upon him again, not soon after he had fainted from exhaustion. His body ached, throbbing dully and constantly at the forefront of his mind. His side felt wet and raw; no doubt a wound had reopened during his fall. A moment of panic seized Andromeda as he realized his chain was not within his grasp. Struggling against pain, fatigue, and a sudden onset of nausea, Shun sat up and groped around in a feverish fog, looking for the signature of his constellation.
Something moved in the haze of his vision and then his questing fingers found the comforting metal links they searched for. He gripped it as tightly as his fist would close, and noticed that there was more within his grip than metal. Something warm and soft was holding the chain, and Shun's hands were grasping it. He blinked heavy eyes, trying to will the jungle to focus, and looked dimly up at the origin of the unfamiliar chain-holder.
A face circled before his eyes, never staying quite still enough for Shun to recognize who it was. A distant, foggy voice suggested that the situation was dangerous, that he should struggle to his feet and run to somewhere safer. But where was safe? And if the floating face was dangerous, why wasn't anything happening?
It was too much for his mind to take and Andromeda sank back down onto half-dead vegetation. His chain tinkled quietly, comfortingly, and the warm supports followed him down, now holding his hands as he had once held them. "You're warm," was the only thing that came to mind that passed beyond his dry lips. "Warm is good."
More movement hovered above him, making Shun's stomach roil in protest. He was forced to roll away from the warm, tilting his head back to retch. Gasping, Shun turned back towards the source of the movement. One hand blindly quested for what he had been forced to give up, and found nothing.
Hands, he recognized, brushed the hair away from his forehead and something warm and wet wiped his face, cleaning it of what he had just expelled. A hand found his again, and a voice murmured, "Get some rest, wimp."
Content, and not entirely certain why, Shun relaxed and let darkness claim him once more.
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"It's good you've come, Hyoga," Crystal said, smiling at his pupil. "I haven't seen you in quite a while. How are you doing?"
The swan easily reviewed his training with the other knights and the battle for the gold cloth. He remarked on the character of the other knights, how Seiya was young and brash and bold, how Shiryu was quiet and reserved and intelligent. He spoke of the brothers – Ikki the reckless Pheonix who always managed to pull through in the end, and Shun the pacifist who only fought when it was absolutely necessary.
"Speaking of Andromeda," Crystal cut it, smiling, "your friend of that constellation has come to visit, out here in the cold middle of nowhere." Inexplicably, Hyoga felt warm again, his head spinning slightly and the suggestion of too many colors at the edge of his vision. "He's in the back room, probably asleep after such a long journey."
Nodding, Hyoga stepped quietly through the cabin, taking care to keep quiet. He edged the door open, peering into soft darkness. Across the small room from him, lying peacefully on the small cot reserved for the swan's visits, was Shun. Sure enough, he was out cold, chest rising and falling as he dreamed.
Unwilling to wake his friend, Hyoga remained at the door, watching and unable to look away.
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There. You now have a glimpse as to who the antagonists are. You can guess at Apus and what he is the saint of. I'll possibly give a reward to the first person to guess correctly, too. Andy, well, I think you're going to have to wait on him. I'm up for hearing theories, though, and if anyone manages to get it right, well, I'll be amazed. Good luck, and I'll probably be updating his sooner than later, if Corculum has anything to say about it, heh.