Chapter 3: Expectations Part Two
"The cup is empty," thought Shion. He stared past the gold trim and brilliant white color at the small bead of tea that was so lonely that if he tilted the container, it would dry up immediately. He didn't think that the last minute activity would actually take so for the two to complete, but Saga and Aiolos were being so meticulous it was as if they were playing a game of chess itself. Instead, he tasked the two of them, to take one side of the chess pieces and place them on the scroll that featured the ranks of Athena's army. Predictably, the two picked the same teams that they always did; Aiolos liked the white side since he could move first, while Saga preferred black so that he could create the perfect counter-strategy.
The Shion thought it would take the two about ten minutes to complete. An hour later, Aiolos still hasn't laid out his pieces, while Saga kept going back and forth as if divided. Disturbingly, Saga kept interchanging the King and Queen pieces for the rank of Pope, making him nervous about the prophecy that he was to die at Saga's hands and send Sanctuary into turmoil.
Finally, just when the Lemurian was about to excuse himself for a refill on his drink, Aiolos began to lay out his pieces while Saga finally felt satisfied with the choices he had made.
"I'm finished, Master," spoke Saga as he rested his hands.
"Me too!" Just as Aiolos placed the last of them with one hand and brushed the end of his red bandana off his shoulder. The boy's blue eyes briefly met Saga's before the both of them became fixated on the stone gaze of the Pope leaning closer to the scroll.
Shion studied the scroll that originated from a deceased Maiden's teaching supplies that simply featured the official emblems of the Bronze, Silver, and Gold Saints, the Pope and finally Athena. It was simple but sufficient for what he wanted to do today. The way the pieces were distributed was interesting, to say the least. "Saga, you have pawns and rooks for Bronze, bishops for Silvers, the Queen for Gold Saints, the King for the Pope and the Knights for Athena."
Saga nodded, "in every battle, Bronze Saints would charge forward and reach as far as they could. Because there have been a few notable ones, I didn't think they were the weakest, so I gave them the best version of them, which was the rook. Silvers are strong too, but they must rely more on being a team since they are more specialists individually. The Golds have always been the strongest and most flexible of the three ranks. If we lose the Golds, we lose the Holy War. Even when all Golds have been killed before the war ends, others who are worthy of the title would step in and fulfill the key role."
Shion nodded in approval. "An excellent analysis of the history of the Holy Wars. I never really thought of that, but you are correct in that no war has ever been won without Gold or Gold-leveled Saints. What about your choice of the King for the Pope and the Knights for Athena? Are you saying that if I die, all is lost, but not the same for Athena?" The Lemurian followed his statement with a soft chuckle, but deep down, he was a bit nervous. To his surprise, Saga shook his head no.
"The Goddess has always been one to use a bit of trickery. She never goes head-on, but she is always there with us. Besides, there have been times when Athena was supposedly killed before the end of the Holy War, and we still won. I felt that since how the Pope acted and where he was located dictated the battle, that he should be King."
"Impressive summary and once again, you are correct, there have been Wars where Athena did indeed die or pretended too." He quickly turned to Aiolos, "Aiolos, your pawns are in every rank except for Athena, you also have Knights for Bronze Saints, Bishops for Silvers, the Rooks for Golds, The King and Queen for the Pope, and …nothing for Athena," Shion spoke with a confused twist at the end. "Well, what are your reasons for this setup?"
Aiolos looked down. "I think that because Bronze Saints understand their place and while they tend to get killed first, they know their power difference and try to utilize everything they have from raw power to a bit of trickery. When you do have a Bronze Saint that is a lot higher in their cosmos, they tend to catch you off guard. I do agree with Saga for the Silver Saints, but I think Golds, due to our power are more prone to a head-on battle. Not because we want to die, but we want to protect even if it means going against the strongest without any help. Besides, Sanctuary is designed for head-on battles for Gold Saints. Plus, you can always perform a castling move with a Rook and the King where the two switch places. How many times in the Holy War where the Pope isn't who he was supposed to be? I guess that's why I placed the queen with him as well since the one who he switches with tends to be the strongest."
This was not quite what Shion expected. If he didn't know who his future murderer would be, he would suspect that it would be Aiolos who would have the dagger at his back. "So, why all the pawns and nothing for Athena?"
Aiolos looked down at the board. "Pawns can be anything, except Athena. I didn't make Athena any piece… I think of her as the player."
O|=====|O
Athens Greece: Present Day
Aiolos chuckled at the forged passport he received. "Mamoru Chiba, let me guess, Miss Saori, picked it out," spoke Aiolos as he examined it.
"Oh, really? I guess Domon Kasshu was going to fall out of favor sooner or later," spoke the Kido Foundation agent that was assigned to stay with the private plane.
The Sagittarius chuckled even if he didn't know who any of those people were. He then focused on muttering the information to ensure he could roam around confidently saying he was from Johannesburg, South Africa with the Disney-Kido tour group, who left a day early and was just killing time by site seeing some of the more local villages. He had a feeling that the thing he risked messing up on was that his birthday was February 22, thus making him a Pisces. He bent the page and examined the small emblems and the pages. He's received fake passports before through small missions with Saga and was very impressed. "This is pretty well made!"
"It should since it came straight from the government itself," laughed the agent.
Aiolos tried to laugh along, but all that came out was a nervous chuckle since it was another example of the far reaches of the Kido Foundation. He waited over as Dr. Yamanaka, his wife, and Minami with her husband came out all dressed down with oversized hats, and cotton shirts, basically the type of stuff they would typically wear outside their scrubs and doctor coats. It would be easier for him to blend in if he wasn't going alone, plus if he had any complications, his doctor would at least be on the same continent.
Dr. Yamanaka waved to the teenager and looked down. "How does it feel to be back?"
He felt a gentle breeze, the scent of earth and grass was far more pleasant than the staleness of the urban streets of Tokyo. There was a different smell too. In Tokyo, there was a pleasant scent of fish all around, but here it had a more earth-like aroma. "quite nice, it actually feels breezier here than I remember."
"Japan does get quite humid around this season," the doctor replied before he took his camera and like any tourist of Greece, snapped a picture of the landscape.
"You think you're going to be alright on your own? Are you sure no one will recognize you?" spoke Minami as she adjusted her oversized sunglasses.
"Hey, I'll be fine! You two need to relax, I've been on way deadlier missions. It's just going to be for two hours, there's nothing to be worried about. I'm going to go to a couple of towns, and I'll be right back." He could tell that they were still a bit uneasy, but he guessed that it was due to them watching over his unresponsive body for the last two years.
"Could you at least take a Tele-Cam with you?" she asked.
Aiolos bit his lip. "I've only used a camera-camera." He didn't even know they existed until he woke up. "Besides, aren't they expensive?"
The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a Tele-Cam. He then released a handle and flipped the top half of the camera open to unveil a numerical pad, "you'll figure it out. This is my old one. Just enter the numerical code 4831, and you can use it to play games, and surf the K-Net. I even have permission to add web pages. Just be careful what you upload. I accidentally put a picture of my cat hugging my dog and was nearly fired."
Aiolos raised a brow. "Why would he nearly fire you over that? It's just a picture of your pets."
The doctor sighed. "Because, Mr. Kido believes that the K-Net is a vital communication and data tool that should only be used for research, learning, and the news. He says that if people see one cute cat picture, it could create a slippery slope of users reducing K-Net to nothing but funny pet pictures and bad grammar." He rolled his eyes and handed the Tele-Cam over.
Aiolos looked it over and entered the code. He wasn't too fond of the tiny screen and frankly, he would think that it would be more practical to turn a phone into a camera and not the other way around. He took a picture and then hung the Tele-Cam around his neck. He waved goodbye and then began to wheel his way toward his destination.
The first part was somewhat relaxing. Japan was clean, friendly, and extremely modern. But he missed the wide-open fields, tall mountains, and the various Sanctuary foot soldiers, masquerading their training as actors who were paid to reenact Spartan training. Nostalgia crept into his eyes as laughter escaped his lips as an elderly couple kept bugging the Captain to redo the phalanx technique so they could get everyone in the shot.
Some Saints didn't like putting on a show. He remembered how Camus would train at two in the morning to ensure he was gone before the shops opened. But he and Saga used to have a lot of fun snapping family photos, letting children wear their helmets or posing in front of a broken prison gate. It was one of the things that made him sad when it was time to accept his Cloth, and the two had to take a less prominent role where they painted the same three houses for the next two years.
So far, no one had noticed his presence. His skin was still pale from him being indoors for two years, his muscles had degraded to make him look about half his size, and Minami had shorn off his magnificent mullet in an attempt to keep him groomed while he was in a coma. Anytime someone looked at him, it was to both smile and wave for his camera, or they rolled their eyes and throw up a half-hearted peace sign. He spotted Hercules Algethi standing among the soldiers. His silver hair, dark skin, and large muscles made him extremely easy to recognize. It was also an excellent opportunity to examine if he would be able to indeed go into town since the African was considered a mid-grade Silver Saint and was the type of Silver who would carefully read the cosmos of others to ensure he put a superior performance in front of the elite.
Aiolos took a breath as he confidently wheeled his chair over and asked if he could have a picture. Surely enough, Algethi didn't even give it a second thought as he raised his spear followed by the others who held the pose for as long as it took for him to click a picture, not caring if everything was centered or not. He waved his hand and waved goodbye. He then said thank you, with a fake broken Greek accent that he copied from Tatsumi, and smiled when the Saint corrected him on it. It was a promising sign that he could venture a lot farther without too much trouble.
Things seemed to be going well until he reached the crossroads. A groan followed as the flat dirt trail was far rockier than he had remembered. If he could walk, it would be no problem, but by the high heavens of Mount Olympus, it was annoying to bump into a rock that he couldn't roll over and was forced to shift back and navigate around it. Worse than that, it was drawing a lot of unnecessary attention. He had to tell several people that he was fine, and while it was nice to see so much compassion, he knew that the more people that come up, the more difficult this mission becomes.
The troubles didn't stop there since the closer he got to Sanctuary Town, the more difficult the road became. Large discarded broken rock from Trainees practicing their cosmos was all over the place. He finally reached the brick road where his wheels rolled reasonably easy. He felt his heartbeat a little easier as small comfortable buildings and shops lined the sides and soldiers and tourists were blended together in waves of colorful clothing and armor.
The first thing he did was to spend some money. He knew first hand that one of the red flags that tower guards keep an eye on are outsiders who just went straight out of the tourist district. He bought some street food and stuffed black olives. He ate it all and then headed for the bakery. There he purchased a couple of boxes of baklava, his favorite pastries and made sure to ask what type of bread he should buy for his Mother, even though she died from an infection a long time ago.
He moved through the crowd with ease, most likely to do with his wheelchair. There he viewed some vases that were remarkably similar to the type that the Sanctuary archaeologists would pull out of the Pope's storage room to clear space for him as well as deliver to the public their thirst for sacred artifacts. He decided against any of those since the man wanted far too much for something that wasn't even painted that well. As he turned away from the merchant, he noticed a figure in a long black cloak sitting on the curb with an empty cup in their hand. Outsiders would dismiss them as a panhandler. He knew better and quickly reached down, pulled out a small map, and pretended to muse over it.
He carefully shifted his eyes in a way that they remained hidden under the bill of his hat. The cloaked person was clearly thin, but that basically knocked off like four Saints off the list. The figure in black calmly walked away, causing a small breath to escape his lips in relief. Perhaps Sanctuary didn't suspect him. He continued viewing his map and made his way to a little music shop. As he examined pan flutes, he kept at an angle where he could carefully see the outside. The key was not to watch for Saints but for the foot soldiers. They were not as discrete, and if something happened, they would be the first to be running about, getting into position to block off all exits. He waited, and nothing happened. He sat there, trying to calm his thumping heart.
He was safe as long as he was still on the streets where the tourists frequented, and that is where he should stay. He paid for a small pan flute and then moved on with the next step in his plan. He navigated himself down the street and onto an old wooden board filled with advertisements about gladiatorial exhibition matches where trainees were instructed to put on a no blood show. Luckily for him, these demonstrations were very close to where he needed to go. He took a piece of paper, wrote the time and location, and stuffed it in his pocket. He then began to move away from the crowd and stared at the less crowded area. Except for a few photographers who choose to use their cameras for pictures and not as a telephone, nearly everyone there was with Sanctuary.
He turned to his reflection in the store window. Ever since seeing that black cloaked figure, he began to question if his looks would really get him through this. His brown hair, as short as it was does maintain the same color. He still has father's blue eyes, and while Athena still clutched his red headband, he wore a red hat, still holding firm to the idea about red being a lucky color despite nearly dying a couple of years ago. He put his hand on his head. "You're overthinking this." He told himself. He rolled into the street and headed to the Three Women and an Eyeball Pub, entering as a man held the door for him.
The place hasn't changed much. It was a building that had been around since the eighteenth century, with several mythological events painted on the walls, many wooden chairs and the same uneven table that had several napkins tucked under the legs to keep it from wobbling. There weren't many in the place since most won't visit until after their shift was done for the day. He spotted the bartender as he was busy watching the only television permitted in a public establishment. He recognized him as Spiros, a barkeep who missed the birth of three of his children to avoid missing a day of work."
He came up to the bar and waved a hand.
Spiros looked down and brought himself forward. "Welcome. Need a menu?"
Aiolos pulled his hat tighter, "just tell me your specials." He could see the man was examining his face.
"Well," he raised his hand, "we have The Manigoldo, Rhada on the Rocks," he bit his lip. "We have a tourist special, the Zodiac Sampler for half off."
Couldn't beat a deal like that. "Ah, I'll take the Zodiac Sampler then."
"Splendid." He fired up the taps and brought out each quarter pint cup under each one. When he was done, he carried the tray over to a table that Aiolos picked out and pulled a chair out for him.
Aiolos looked at the magnificent mixtures of Ales and Lagers. The legend was that the night before Hades attacked, all twelve Gold Saints came over, and the owner created the special on the spot. He reached over and pulled out the money and was about to hand it to him as well as a generous tip. To his surprise, the bartender stepped back and placed his hand on his head.
"Ah, sorry, we've been dead all day. Could you show me your passport? No offense but many of the locals like to take advantage of me."
Aiolos didn't flinch, but his hand cautiously reached into his pocket. He pulled it out and passed it to him. He knew that Spiros, even in his sixties, was as sharp as ever. He wouldn't forget something like that, not to mention that the deal was too good to be true. He placed his hand around his Pale Aries, trying to put on a happy face as Spiros took a reasonably long time to check the country of his origin.
Spiros placed his hand on his chin and raised an eyebrow. "Oh… Pisces," he then passed the passport back. "Thank you," he spoke with a bit of uncertainty while reaching for the money.
He was wary of other Saints, but he didn't think of all the locales in the town. Aiolos took a long sip. Again he waited, expecting two foot soldiers at each window, six guards and a Captain would be at the door. He finished his drink and looked up to see that Spiros had returned to a football match between Portugal and Germany.
The law of Sanctuary was that harboring a traitor was to join him in death even if they would trespass for even an hour. But of course, anytime he and Saga would try to get the barkeeper to join them in politics, he would remark to them that he was more fascinated in how his farts smelled that day than the shit that Gigars had to spew.
Aiolos finished off his Hard Gemini and then his Taurus Ale. He went over to the bulletin board and studied it. As he mentioned to Kido, every ad from the placement to the language used was a code for Sanctuary on how things are, where everyone needed to be from the advertisements on selling junk to the lost cat picture. The first thing he checked out were the finances and surely enough, everything was not only in the black but very profitable despite the army's size increasing five times over.
Saga was a master at the books, something that he found a bit difficult and sadly the former Pope was terrible at. Back then, rumors even circulated that if the Pope didn't pick out a new successor, Sanctuary would have to go through the next Holy War without any foot soldiers or guards due to a lack of payment. Even if they weren't good at fighting a Mariner, they were important in ensuring protection, evacuation, and subduing panic with the civilians to allow the Saints to fight on.
He turned to the duties section. He carefully examined the list of names. Many of the Captains that he and Saga had talked about being corrupted and ineffective were either off the board or demoted while those that they thought were overlooked were in reasonably high positions. In terms of crime, it was much more peaceful with a list that was a fraction of the size it was a couple of years back. If Saga was still wearing the dead Pope's robes, he was doing a hell of a good job despite the means he sought to gain the position.
"Looking for something to do? We have Karaoke Night tomorrow."
A smirk escaped Aiolos, admiring the man's memory and feeling gratitude at his reluctance to turn him in despite the problems it could cause. There was a small tug from his instincts, one that he has trusted for a long time, that made him think that the bartender's words were more than just a nudge of nostalgia. "I'm leaving tomorrow, is there anything worth seeing here today?"
There was a silence that followed as Aiolos continued to look at the board. "If you're bold, take the road outside, head all the way east. The path is rough, but it may be worth your time."
Aiolos knew there was something more. He briefly turned to him, watching as he started heading off to the kitchen. He turned back and headed to his table to grab the Sisyphus Cider Mix, his favorite of the bunch, and took a small sip to take in the familiar flavor. "But that's the complete opposite of where I want to go," he thought. According to the board, his brother will be on the west side. He chugged the other drinks, one after the other as he tended to do on moments like this. He wheeled his way over to the tip jar and dropped the same amount that he and Saga always left him before leaving the establishment.
He took his hat and pulled the brim to keep the sun from his eyes, "east or west?" The West had his brother and a decent amount of tourist traffic for him to move around with ease. However, the East nearly composed of only those from Sanctuary due to how rough the area looked to the average outsider. There were no objects of interest, no shops, and he already drew a lot of attention from the wheelchair.
He should stick to his original plan, but everything in his mind was spinning the other way. The decision wouldn't be so damn hard if he could use lightspeed and run the fucking mile that it took to get there and back before he could be even be detected.
He reached into his bag and looked inside. Athena gave him a lot of money for a tourist trip. People would probably think he came there to buy a house with what he had. Bribery was a direction that he will never take, so what else could he do?
Half an hour later, two soldiers stood by the street, allowing their minds to drift off until they spotted a man with a red sweater on, riding a grey horse with a large leather wrapped metal object to one side of the beast and a sign on the front. "Master Asia's Horse Trails?" murmured one guard before he turned to his friend.
The other soldier shrugged as well. "Must be new," He watched as the teenager was busy snapping pictures on top of his steed with his fancy Tele-Cam. "Oh great…" the man muttered as the man pulled his horse toward them and raised it up. He groaned as he and his friend gave half-hearted smiles while holding their spears in a pose that was dramatic enough for him to take. Aiolos snapped the picture and gave a thumb up before taking the reins and gesturing the horse, Rain, to move on.
The horse was old, its long mane hasn't been combed in years, and the gait alone could tell him that he had some form of arthritis. While the man told him that he was too old to be pulling carts anymore, he was strong enough to carry him where he needed to go. Besides, it felt good to spare the sick animal from the meat factory.
He enjoyed not having to look up at everyone, and the horse proved extremely useful in stepping around the rocks. He took several pictures along the way but kept a rapid pace. It was scorching today, and it seemed many soldiers were taking their break at high noon, making the journey a whole lot easier.
The few he did encounter seemed like they didn't like a tourist wandering around this way but could do nothing about it. Soon, the number of soldiers around thinned out, and there were no more to be seen. He knew he was outside the city limits and familiar sights began to take hold. In the distance, he could see thousands of broken rocks with sparse skeleton trees dotting the ruins. He looked up and could see the sizeable steep mountainside that kept the Twelve Houses hidden.
This was where Kido found him.
He jerked the reins, surprising the horse and forced an unpleasant snort to follow.
A skeleton, wrapped in chains with small strips of clothing hanging loosely upon its bones, hung freely from a barbed wire tied around its neck and onto the thick dusty limb. He guided the reluctant horse over, knowing that the poor creature was disturbed, but it was just too rocky for him to use his wheelchair. Around the neck were the remains of a long red tattered headband that had slipped after the animals had picked the flesh. He knew that despite the lack of meat, someone carved the word traitor so hard into their forehead that it scrapped the skull beneath.
"Goddess…" It felt like he was staring at what could have been. He wondered how Sanctuary reacted, and he can see what Saga did about it.
Saga found another person, dressed them up and sent him to the mob to die. He stared at the skull, its head turned toward heaven as if pleading for mercy, knowing that they were innocent of everything. He reached over and rested his hand upon it. "I'm so sorry."
He stood there for several silent minutes, his eyes shut, his mind promising this lost soul that when all was right in Sanctuary, that he would ensure that he be given peace and forgiveness. He opened his eyes and stared onward.
It was then he noticed that this skeleton looked smaller than a full grown adult.
That was when a horrific idea came to him. "Aiolia?" he muttered. "Oh no… no… no…" he murmured, nearly falling off his horse. What if this was the reason Spiros mentioned coming here? He remembered seeing Aiolia's name on the board, but what if it was really someone else over there much like how an eighth of all trainees were named Heracles? What if Aiolia is not Aiolia? The Pope is not the Pope, so could it really be that far off?
He felt his stomach give out, spilling all the alcohol he drank, surprising the horse and causing it to neigh louder than before. He jerked the reins and tried to force the animal into a gallop only for it to slow back down to a trot before it halted. "Damn it!" he cursed. He pulled and pulled, but the horse just froze into place. It was then he realized that in his anger, he had stopped hiding his Cosmos. He relaxed a bit and watched Rain start to move once more. Animals were sensitive to Cosmos, and if they weren't used to it, it could cause them to freeze up and become useless due to the fear of being in danger.
"Hey!"
Aiolos watched a couple of guards approaching him. Even with an injured back, he could easily take them out, but all it will do is draw unnecessary attention, especially from those on the other side of the mountain. Aiolos grabbed his camera and waved to them. "Hi, are you with…"
"Cut the shit. What are you doing all the way out here?" spoke the taller and stronger of the two.
He stayed quiet. "Horseback riding, the view is so amazing here." He could see by the look on his face that he wasn't buying it. "This isn't private property, is this?"
The guard folded his arms. "Only certain people are allowed here. Unless you work here, you're not supposed to be here. Are you telling me, everyone let you through?" He brought his gloved hand to the stubble on his chin and spotted the slight glint of the wheelchair, "Axion, grab the cripple's reigns," he looked to Aiolos. "You're coming with us!"
Aiolos pulled the horse reins back, causing it to trot backward. They take him to the Visitor's Bureau, they'll have every Saint surrounding him the moment they check his cosmos. "Hey, I'm not going anywhere, I am a citizen of," he paused. "South Africa!" He then turned as one of the soldiers took the bottom of his spear and shoved it at him, trying to knock him off. The Saint easily dodged and grabbed the hilt and disarmed him. He clenched the staff, his eyes meeting the two men. His fighting instincts urged him to impale one of them and use the horse to just run over the other. But as a Saint who was training to be the Pope, he knew they were just doing their jobs and admire the fact that they were able to react to suspicion. They were clearly loyal but picked the wrong person to mess with. His grip turned to a tremor. "Damn it…" he muttered. Did he really have to sink to Saga's level and kill a couple of innocent men just to hide his secret?
"What the hell is going on here!"
Aiolos looked up as the figure in the black cloak leaped in between the two. He watched as they threw their hood off, revealing her vivid red hair and a silver mask that gleamed with a metallic sheen.
The armed soldier threw his hand upon his chest. "This person is trespassing. We were trying to bring him to be questioned when he tried to kill us!"
The Amazon looked up at the figure. He clenched the spear in a manner that would allow him to strike the guard on one side while still placing him in position to impale the one in front. "I'll take him. Go back to your station and never speak of any of this again."
"Why is he here? Why are you here! Aren't all Amazons supposed to be near the lake today?" the soldier demanded.
Aiolos watched her take her hand and rubbed the top of his thigh lovingly. He supposed she was trying to make them think that they were in love, except due to his injured back, it felt more like pins and needles.
"I said… you will speak nothing of this again. If you talk, I will talk."
Aiolos watched her take the spear out of his hands and produce a belt from under her cloak. It was then he noticed that one of the men indeed was missing it. The flushed cheeks on both of the men's faces was a good indication that they too wanted to be alone, and apparently, him being there killed the mood between the two male lovers.
Aiolos watched them hurry away, much to his relief. He wanted to thank her, but instead, she pulled her hand away, clearly not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable.
She brought a finger to her metal lips, her deception not quite complete. "You are clearly lost. You need to go back to your room at the Myrrha Motel. Here, I found your key," she tossed it to him. "Let's go."
The trip back was silent but not without contemplation. Perhaps it was from being in a coma, but after a couple of minutes, Aiolos recognized her as Marin, the girl who was picked on and sometimes beaten up for being Japanese. While trainees picking fights with each other is to be expected, the fact that it got to the point where the wooden training dummies were treated better caused him to intervene. At first, his brother hung out with her out of pity, but after a week, perhaps due to her extremely clever nature, they became good friends, and the moment their training ends in the House of Sagittarius, Aiolia would zoom off to find his tomodachi.
He also remembered her having what was unofficially named, a very fluid cosmos. He can't really explain it, but just like some people were simply born with a very strong cosmos, others have a different type, typically those from Asia, where it will start off rather average, but it quickly accelerates in power over time. The fact that she was ordering those two men like that suggested to him that perhaps Marin had moved up in the hierarchy of Sanctuary since meeting her years ago.
Marin tied the horse while Aiolos unhooked the wheelchair from the side and unfolded it. He eased it onto the ground and using his arm strength and a rope, he lowered himself into it.
Aiolos watched as Marin began to walk over behind him, but he waved a hand and wheeled himself until he frowned and realized that the place had a door that was difficult to open and quick to close. Already he missed the blue handicapped button that many modern businesses in Tokyo had.
He looked at his key and was happy that she had the courtesy of getting a room on the bottom floor, but it was clear that the Gods were not done twisting his wrist. Right at the entrance, there was a single step that led into the other rooms that were about four inches high, big enough so that he couldn't just roll over it, but its singularity was enough to make his blood boil.
His thoughts of ever confronting Saga starting to fade as he could imagine that all he had to do was stand at the top of the House of Aries and moon him and he couldn't get past the stairs to do a damn thing.
The room was relatively simple, with a small bed with a thick blanket, and an untouched desk that still had the breakfast menu carefully displayed by the complimentary bottle of water. Marin closed the door and finish it off with a full roll of the deadbolt.
"Who are you?" she whispered loudly. "Is it really you?"
He gave her an involuntary nod. If she was going to betray him, she had plenty of opportunities to do so.
Marin folded her arms and tilted her head. "Favorite food?"
He didn't quite expect a quiz, but considering he was probably dead to her for a couple of years, he can understand her doubt. "Calamari, grilled with a twist of lemon. I have it every Friday because my mother taught me that it is freshest in the market." He could see the surprise in her gesture, obviously pleased by his detailed answer. How could he forget? While it was good in Japan, he found it a bit on the salty side.
"What is the name of your bow?"
He pursed his lips. Marin had a tricky nature to her. He couldn't think of anything, and he felt nervous giving her the wrong answer, but he had to answer as honestly as he could. "It never had one; I just tell everyone it is the Sagittarius Bow. I never developed a favorite bow because I practice with them so much they tend to break in a week. I had a servant whose only duty was to craft replacements all the time." She gave him a dull stare this time as if she didn't want him to read her emotions. He wasn't sure if he gave her the answer she wanted, but he was reasonably confident. He watched her pull out a piece of paper.
"What was Dad's name?" she read off of it.
Aiolos took a deep breath. He had a feeling that Aiolia must have asked her to ask him about this. At least he knew that he wasn't dead. He debated whether to say anything, but if Aiolia trusted Marin to read this off, then he either already told her or believed her to know. How bad was it, that this was one of his clearest memories. "My father's name was Adam. He died from a fall. Adam is listed on Aiolia's birth certificate but really, my father's brother, Elias took care of my Mother and me, they fell in love, married and Aiolia was born afterward." It was a dark secret, one that not even Sanctuary knew and something that he told his brother not long before everything happened. He still remembers Aiolia being a little shaken by it, but still accepted it. He watched her sit on the bed and use her cosmos to burn the sheet of paper in her hand.
"It is you." She came over and pulled off his hat, her eyes trailing from his head to the small surgical scars at his neck. "What happened? What happened to you? By the Goddess, what happened to your hair? It looks horrible!"
He told her as quickly but as thoroughly as he could. He told her about what happened in the Pope's chambers, Shura's follow up attack, the coma and its effects, his strange obsession and knowledge of Japanese anime that he never even watched, and the prognosis of his back. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could tell from her hands resting on her lap that she was listening intently to every word that he said. "So, what do you think?"
She turned her head, "So that's what happened." She sighed. "I felt the Pope was different, but I thought he just got a new advisor or maybe the incident with Athena was a wake-up call for him to fix what was wrong with Sanctuary."
"Different?" He paused. It wasn't quite the word he would imagine her saying. "How so?" She was silent as if afraid to go farther. "How did he feel different?" he repeated with a little more urgency.
"Things are…better… more organized… and more disciplined." She kept her head tilted down. "Before finding out what he really did to you, I felt for once, I could… genuinely respect him. I'm sorry…"
"You don't need to apologize for something you didn't know about," he replied. He remembered the slight changes that the Pope made before he tried to kill Athena. How ironic that the reason he came over to discover the horrible deed was to congratulate him on creating a budget that was in the black for the first time in three years. "I already sensed that when I saw the reports on the bulletin board. Plus, Saga is a genius when it comes to these matters." It was his turn. "How did you figure out it was me?"
"I didn't, he did. He asked me to see what I could find, and after examining everyone, you seemed to be the closest, but the wheelchair threw me off." She shook her head as if she was still shocked to see him like this. "It wasn't until you started going to your corpse that I decided to approach you."
Aiolos began to notice that she was meticulous not to mention his or his brother's names, like there was a sense of fear or uneasiness, despite how well things appear. "Where's my brother at? Is he coming over?" To his surprise, she shrugged.
"He's had it very difficult since what happened." She swallowed hard. "I need to go talk to him. You have to leave." She hurried out, pulling her hood over her head so quickly that she was like a strong breeze.
He then felt something familiar and moved over to the window. "Aiolia," he muttered. The difference in time didn't really strike him until he saw him. He was over a foot taller, with massive arms and a muscular chest that was typical of Leo Saints. He was in fantastic shape, and for a moment, Aiolos felt incredibly proud of how far he came along.
But there was no cheerful smile or bit of aloofness that came whether they were training in the House or camping in the forests. His cheeks were red; his eyes were dull and empty.
Aiolos watched Marin run, holding her hands up, trying to slow down the marching Leo. He gasped as his gentle brother grit his teeth, the two clearly engaged in a private talk through the cosmos. He could see that his brother feigned several strikes as if threatening her to step aside, but Marin, strong-willed as she was, called his bluffs. That was when he realized the purpose of bringing him here.
It was not for the two to meet and chat, it was that Aiolia was going to come here and kill him.
For a moment, he felt a little cold, a sense of betrayal that he hadn't felt since Saga. His mind can only imagine what happened the moment that those soldiers found a simple Cloth and nobody to go with it. They would probably go for his family since it was no secret that two of them were related. Hell, Aiolia would brag about it when he was a kid about how his brother was a Gold Saint.
They probably thought that Aiolia was hiding him, demanding answers when he wouldn't have a clue. He knew that Marin was doing her best to confront Aiolia on one side of the building while leaving the way open for him to escape and blend into the safety of the many tourists outside, but that just wasn't in his nature. He watched as Marin stared him down like he was a complete idiot while Aiolia widened his eyes before marching around to the other side.
Aiolos took a deep breath and reached over and applied the brakes on his wheels. The motel attendant ran up to see what all the noise was about, but Aiolia barked at him to go see a parade in ancient Greek. It may sound odd, but it was actually a unique Sanctuary code that meant to leave for a couple of hours while someone of importance takes care of business. Marin followed behind, attempting to squeeze in between him and Aiolia, but his brother held out an arm to keep her from doing so. He could see Aiolia's eyes shift up and down from his chair to his face, trying to connect the fact that he was once his protective brother and Master. He could see how confused he was, almost as if he wasn't sure what to do. Aiolos knew he had to break the silence. "Aiolia, it's good to see-"
"SHUT UP!" Aiolia snapped. "Do you realize the hell they've put me through?"
Aiolos could hear Aiolia's deep breaths, watching him throw his hands on his own face as if squeezing it was a way to keep him from crushing his pale neck. "You know, if I could, I wouldn't let them do anything to you, even at the cost of my life."
"Well, you're two years too late!" Aiolia laughter that followed was twisted with rage and sadness. "The first month, I defended you from sun up to sun down. No, not him. My brother would never do something like this. But they kept bringing up the fact that your bow was missing, you know, the only thing on the Cloth that was worth a shit." He shook his head. "Second month, they began using anything…anything that wouldn't leave a mark. I kept hoping in my heart and praying to Athena you would come and make them stop, but you never came. The third month, I was singing whatever story that came into my head, just to make them stop! But none of them believed me." He grabbed the water bottle and threw it to the floor. "A year! I was held captive for a year!" He folded his arms. "That's not the worst of it. They used Galan, mutilated his face, threw a headband on, slapped a few pieces of the Sagittarius Cloth on him, and threw him to a mob the day after I was thrown into prison."
This struck Aiolos hard. "Galan," he muttered. He was his best friend, now with painful thoughts of the suffering he had to endure.
"Yes, Galan," cracked Aiolia. "It wasn't quick either. Those people wanted to make sure nobody dared touched their Goddess again." He narrowed his eyes. "Now, you're back. Looking to claim your place in Sanctuary? Set up a Civil War? Make everyone kill the other because the fact that you are alive will disrupt all the good that the Pope has done?" He shook his head, folded his arms, and turned away. "Get out. My Cloth is locked up in Sanctuary, I have to live in a fucking shack, and I can't go without a day without being reminded that I am the brother of a traitor. I'm not going to lose what little dignity I have left by beating up a useless cripple."
Aiolos looked at his back. There was a slight tremble and wondered if Aiolia was actually crying. He had lived and trained with his brother all his life, and knew that every word he said to him was filled with pent up rage and pain. He sat there silently and held his hands. "I'm sorry for what happened to you…"
"…Shut up…" Aiolia hissed.
The Sagittarius Saint closed his eyes. As the old Pope would say to them, sometimes the most delicate approach is the bluntest. "The position of the Pope was the last thing on my mind. I woke up, and one of the first and only thing I thought about was you. I knew trying to use the cosmos to contact you would put you in danger, so I never tried. Coming here was dangerous, but it was worth it knowing whether you're safe or not." Aiolia still refused to turn to him.
Aiolos lowered his head, unsure what to say since each reply Aiolia made felt like a knife digging deeper and deeper. It was clear that his presence alone was just too much, no matter how much he wanted to see him. He reached for his brakes and pulled them up and began to push himself toward the door. He stopped and turned to Aiolia as he remained facing the wall. He didn't need the cosmos to see the apparent tension in Leo's fingertips. Inside, he feared that Saga had him wrapped around his little finger. It wouldn't surprise him if Saga were holding Aiolia's Cloth as a means for Aiolia to redeem himself should the dead rise again.
Aiolos took his hand and placed it on his face. "No, he wouldn't…or…" Aiolos took a deep breath as he too became overwhelmed. If he left now, he might never see Aiolia again, but if he told him, he could die. He looked down at his useless legs and shook his head.
Fuck it.
The Sagittarius reached over for a piece of paper and the complementary pen. He came there for his brother and damn it, he wasn't going to let fear let him lose him again. "21-6 Udagawa-cho, Shibuya, Tokyo," he said as he wrote.
He took the paper and placed it on the desk. "This is where I'm at now. Turn me in if it makes you feel better, or you can talk to me. Whether you want me to pay for the crime that I did not commit, regain your Cloth and honor, or if you are willing to grant me any shred of forgiveness, I'll leave it up to you. Goodbye, brother, I'm glad I got to see you." He wheeled himself, ignoring the painful bump that followed from the one step.
To Be Continued…