TEN YEARS AGO
Six-year-old Milo sat in his leather chair, a soft white fluffy robe covering his nearly naked body. His hands were clutching his book, The Frogs by Aristophanes. Normally he couldn't tear away from it since of all the ancient Greek playwrights, he found his work to be as intelligent as Plato with the humor of Douglas Adams. But whenever it is close to nine o'clock, he can't find himself doing anything, but watch his caretaker prepare the room.
His blue eyes stared as Mrs. Schfurwatt hooked the large plastic sheets to the walls and floor. To the less informed, it would appear as if she was about to commit the perfect murder, but this was just one of her long list of duties, as routine as preparing meals and sweeping the floors.
Giving up on concluding his literature, Milo finally set it aside and folded his hands as the sound of a set of heavy boots descended the long stairs before the glowing gold plates of armor illuminated the room. Outside of the Household of Scorpio, he was known as Scorpio Paris, Gold Saint, and the Eighth Guardian of Sanctuary. But to Milo, he was something else. "Hey Dad," he called out casually."How was South America?"
Scorpio Paris pulled off his headpiece, quickly tucking away some locks with greying roots into the sea of dyed violet hair. While Saints can hold their youthful appearance far longer than any normal human, they weren't immune to it. "Quick and hot. Padre Suave thought it was a good idea to hide his narcotics business in a jungle, but never came up with a plan on how to navigate through it in a chase." Normally, such crimes were left to the rest of the world to deal with. In fact, in the hierarchy of drug cartels, the fat pig wasn't even in the top fifty, not even worthy of the media's attention. Paris thought giving him the mission was the Pope being overly cautious by giving him something safe. He was the last of his generation of Golds. However, it turned out that Shion received word that the place Padre Suave was at was a former Sanctuary base utilizing ancient abandoned foot soldier armor. That was when he took the mission very seriously since the world doesn't need to know of a material that was more bulletproof than kevlar.
Paris shifted his one eye, pleased that everything was prepared for once, yet ever so suspicious. "Looks like you're ready. I'm shocked," the old Scorpio mused, his finger resting against his cheek, the tip of his red nail tapping the leather eyepatch. "Is it your friend in Siberia?" He watched as his son nodded excitedly. A smooth smile followed.
A Scorpio who is friends with an Aquarius...some things never changed.
"Alright, go into position, but don't expect it to be quick."
The child nodded but took a heavy breath, his hands reached up and adjusted the hair tie around his bun to keep his locks clean. Afterward, he removed his white plush robe, a contrast to the fine loincloth with old stubborn blood-stained blooms. He took several deep breaths, stretching his muscular arms before taking his fingers and massaging his chest and star points, prepping it for what was to come. He widened his stance and spread out his arms fully exposing his nearly naked body. "I'm ready."
The elder Scorpio's lone blue eye shimmered shades of scarlet until it matched his raised red nail, "...Scarlet Needle..." he calmly speaks, without the typical joy or dangerous dread that came when he performed the move during his duties. He felt the familiar pinch from the release, the first blow punctured straight through his child's thigh.
Milo gritted his teeth, his hands tightening from the blow. He fought off his tears, twisting the injured leg inwards. The first was always the most difficult. He regained his position before another strike followed up on his other thigh. But this time, he fell to his knee, his hands resting on his thighs.
Scorpio Paris shook his head. "Get back in position. If you can't take it, you don't deserve to deal it."
Milo's sweaty head nodded as he heard the creed that was passed on since the First Scorpio. Only when he could accept all but Antares without so much flinching will he be worthy of wearing his lineage's Cloth. He lets out a scream and tightens his fist, exposing his body.
Paris nods pleased at his son's resolve. But as with every training session, while his son felt the pain, his heart would break with every blow.
Three
Four
Milo was twisting and writhing with each blow. He rubbed his face with the top of his palm, doing his best to avoid smearing blood all over his face.
Paris paused his assault, and once his son squeezed his fists and resumed his stance, he knew the child was signaling for him to keep going.
Five
Six
Seven
Eight shots.
Milo collapsed onto the slick pool of red, motionless for a moment, before a bit of movement signaled he was not ready to meet his maker quite yet.
Mrs. Schfurwatt gasped in horror, ready to run towards the blood-drenched child, but the elder Scorpio was faster.
He knelt before the trainee's heaving chest, lifting him and using his red nail to press into the main star point to halt any more blood loss. "Milo?" He watched his eyelids struggle to even crack open, something that had never happened before."Son!"
Milo's thin lips pressed tightly, heavy breathing whistling through until his jaws strained to speak. "...d….da…." he stuttered like a newborn baby crafting his first words, his head rocking back and forth as if the strength to lift it had vanished.
Paris gasped wondering if he overestimated Milo's ability to handle his strikes. Oh Goddess, what has he done? Has he done the unthinkable and pushed him too far? "Son, don't speak."
Milo's body trembled, shaking violently as his tiny hands folded into each other as if in a gentle prayer. "Dad...we still have five more rounds…I'll be…" he coughed out bits of blood, a small trail trickling at the edges of his lips. "...I'll be...okay…" he whispered. "I want to be strong…" he smiled, revealing a mismatched set of adult and baby teeth. "...just like you!"
"Oh son, you don't want to be like me," Paris whispered, shaking his head on his past. He gasped as his son drew up his legs, his eyes rolling back with every turn of the head.
"Dad...I have to…"Milo rasped as he took his hand and attempted to pull himself up only to fall back into Paris' arms.
Paris shook his head. "No...you've bested your record nearly twice over." He squeezed his only son, his face twisted in agony, the mirroring The Pieta. "You are more precious. Practice is over today."
"Are you sh-sure?" Milo stuttered as an angelic hand reached up and stroked his father's bristly face.
The old Saint smiled. "Yes. We're done."
With a burst of energy, Milo threw out his legs and springboard back onto his feet. "THANKS, DAD! I'LL SEE YOU AT DINNER TIME!" The child cheered as he lightspeed out of the training room, letting out a loud whoop.
Mrs. Schfurwatt shook her head as she took her mop and began to clean the floor, passing Paris' dropped jaw. "It seems his pain tolerance has gone up quite a bit, Paris."
The elder Scorpio shook his head in disbelief. "So has his acting skills," he muttered as he walked over to a table and grasped the bottle of complimentary wine, and chugged it straight down. "Mrs. Schfurwatt?"
"Yes, Paris?"
"Tell the brothel to send the woman I hired for tonight's party a few hours earlier. A bit of stress relief is in order," he spoke before he had to pause. Paris reached into his pocket for a bloody handkerchief and began to hack up several clots.
Meanwhile, Milo ran out of his bedroom, fully dressed in his winter garbs and coat that he had prepared ahead of time. He darted through the inner chambers, taking care not to go through the main passages where his father would pass through, and headed straight for a large dark room with several Lemurian glyphs on the sides. In the center were two hexagonal tiles, the blue one would lead to the House of Aquarius, and the green one that he leaped upon would take him to Siberia. He's not sure why there was an equivalent of teleportation there, but hey, it was a pretty cool feature.
He burned his cosmos, causing the glyphs to glow before a warm cylinder of light beamed down before him. He shut his eyes, a sense of weightlessness coursed through his body, causing it to spin gently as if he was a piece of paper caught in the wind. The first few times he did this, caused him to throw up, but now it was probably the closest feeling to flying among the clouds.
Suddenly, the temperature went from comfortable cool dampness to a heavy chill that nipped his cheeks, and a howling wind that turned his sweaty bangs into a row of icicles. He reached down to adust his scarlet scarf.
BAM!
A large snowball struck him dead center on his nose, exploding into a burst of winter wonder. The Scorpio Trainee sloshed the snowflakes from his face, dusting off the white powder from his delicate eyelashes, before darting his head toward the smirking Camus as he playful juggled another snowball with one hand. "How long were you waiting there to do that?"
Camus gave an easy shrug. "Not as long as I thought I would." If he had the time, he would've had twice the amount of snowballs. "I thought you would have at least an hour worth of training."
A Cheshire grin curled around Milo's lips. "Oh...Dad ended training early. That's all."
Camus smiled as he typically did out there. "Yeah, I'm sure he did." With that, Camus lightspeed toward the Scorpio with heavy steps before curling around his friend and pushing his feet at such an angle while gesturing his cosmos toward the ground, forming a ten-foot wave of snow ready to blanket the mischievous Milo.
But the Scorpio Trainee was wise to his tricks and reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of water and aimed it at the glowing section of Camus' still activated cosmos. He splashed at it, expecting it to immediately freeze solid. But his eyes widened when the wave did freeze but cracked at the top. "Shit!" he gasped, immediately crossing his arms to block the blow, only to feel a hand grasp his collar and pull him away as the thick half-meter-long icicles fell in his place.
"You alright?"
Milo heard what he thought was a Russian accent, but the bit of a nasal tone sounded more Norwegian than anything else. He turned his head to spot a boy his age with auburn hair and Fuschia eyes, wearing what looked like a fancy red coat, something that would take most people around here years to afford.
Meanwhile, Camus heaved a sigh of relief. "This is Surt. We've been friends since I started training here. Sorry, this wasn't exactly how I wanted to introduce him to you. I'm so sorry!" the Aquarius begged.
Milo turned his head and waved his hand. "It wasn't you. I thought if I threw some water at your cosmos I wouldn't get snow-waved this time," Milo laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
Camus bit his lip. "Well, it would have worked but you threw it far too high up. If you would've tossed the water toward the base of the snow wave, the amount of mass that is being applied to the support wouldn't have collapsed."
Surt walked over and narrowed his eyes as he used his thumb as a form of measurement. "To be fair, Camus. I would say that Milo didn't even need to aim that low. Yes, it is true that the amount of mass on the top of the wave overpowered the structural integrity of the bottom, but I would argue that if you apply the concept of an arc… if Milo would've aimed just a bit lower, the resulting vector would've intercepted the arc at a more favorable angle to distribute the load of the top and allow the wave to maintain its shape, and thus, no one would've gotten hurt," he smirked with a cocky smile, throwing as many technical terms to demonstrate his intellectual prowess.
Milo's brain melted into putty at the math porn. "Oh Goddess, I can see why he and Camus became friends so quickly," he thought.
"BROTHER!" called a sweet and gentle voice.
A smaller girl, with equally long and auburn hair, was running up to them, her legs trudging through the snow before she rested her hands or highly embroidered dress.
"Hold on, let me get my sister. She wanted to play too!" spoke Surt. He was about to run, but paused and turned to Milo. "Oh, by the way. She doesn't have any training," Surt spoke.
Milo smiled, understanding his plea. "Don't worry, no cosmos."
Surt grinned. "Splendid!" He turned his head. "Wait there, Sinmore! Sorry I had to run off, I wanted to hurry before our new friend got hurt!" he shouted before he lightspeed down to her.
Milo returned his gaze at Camus, noticing the panicked look had yet to fade. "Hey, you alright?"
Camus placed his hands on his hips. "I guess. I just thought I almost hurt you there."
The Scorpio waved his hand, fearful Camus would be on another guilt trip. "You didn't do anything. If I wouldn't have thrown the water nothing bad would've happened. It was just snow."
"Snow can be a lot deadlier than you think. In an avalanche, a person can suffocate under nearly a metric ton per square meter of weight."
Milo rolled his eyes. "You kicked like two shovel-fulls of snow at me."
Camus shrank a bit, realizing he was overthinking things. They were here to have fun. With that, he grabbed a pile of snow. "I guess you're right," he laughed as he smeared it all over Milo's head before the Scorpio got him back with a large scoop of his own.
Milo cackled mischievously before Surt smacked him with a snowball right into the Scorpio's open mouth.
Camus' eyes shifted as he spotted Sinmore grasping some snow. He could've run away, but he pretended to not see her as her pink mittens slowly patted her snow that was less ball and more like a lumpy mango. He moved his shoulder into place to avoid her missing her target before falling like Goliath being struck by David. He smiled as he could hear her sweet sugary laughter while he remained collapsed face down.
Once the sound of her boots crunching the winter wonderland was far enough, Camus' eyes directed his attention to Surt. Showing his true potential as the King of snowballs, the Aquarius stood up and charged forward, his gloved fingers shaving up the perfect amount of snow. With two perfect pats and rubs, Camus threw the snowball with the speed of a professional baseball pitcher, curving it slightly to perfectly smash it into Surt's face and knocking the Asgardian off his feet.
"Hey, no cosmos!" gasped Surt.
"Didn't need any!" The Ice user cheekily retorted.
Surt frowned. As a pyrokinetic, he hated being burned. He narrowed his Fuschia eyes. He had chosen poorly to grab his clunky snow mittens that made the task of crafting snowballs more burdensome. If he was going to beat everyone, he would have to alter the game that was more fitting of his winter weather wear. He ran over and tapped Milo's shoulder. "TAG! YOU'RE IT!" He called out, daring to change the game in the middle of one. He grabbed his sister's hand and pulled her with him to facilitate the alternation of the playful environment.
Milo bit the bait and began to rush down the hill and smacked Camus on the shoulder. "Can't catch me!" He cried, fighting the urge to use his cosmos to zoom away.
Camus sighed. He hated tag, especially when he was it, but with three others engaged in that game, he had no choice. He turned the vast Siberian landscape smiling a bit, the guilt of having nearly hurt Milo waning. He ran and slid down the hill and played with the others.
Hours later, the group returned to where they belonged, Surt to his studies, Sinmore to her piano, Milo to his furious Dad who will most likely make him complete the rounds of enduring Scarlet Needle when he gets back.
Camus, on the other hand, simply returned to surfing the snow and tossing his icy cosmos all around.
Here he can unleash his cosmos however he pleases without worrying about keeping it all shut-in.
Here he didn't have to worry about holding back anything and can be as loud and proud as anyone else in Sanctuary.
Here he was himself.
Here he was free.
O|=========================================|O
BOOK OF CENTAUR
Part 4D
CURSED AQUARIUS 1
Bold: Cursed Mode
Completely Italicized: The Dead
O|=========================================|O
PRESENT- HOUSE OF LIBRA
Greece had a mighty navy, and within that navy were cats. While their primary role was to hunt mice and rodents, sailors began to notice that their feline companions had an uncanny ability to predict dangerous storms from even miles away. Toads would leave their mating sites before earthquakes could occur and won't return until the aftershocks were complete. The goats that occupy the mountains acted as harbingers for Holy War, where all but the weak and dying abandoned the cliffs before it could begin and never came back until Hades was defeated.
The instincts of animals in Sanctuary were highly praised and revered among Prototypos, or those who followed the old ways in Rodario, including Aiolos, a decision that saved his life.
The archer laid upon the marble floor, a large pool of dark blood gluing his brown curls against the tile. He struggled to move a bit, the blow from Antares and all the other Scarlet Needles hammering all the air out of his lungs and leaving him like a fish in the desert.
His fingers grasped the fine silk of his robe, pulling away the shredded webbing, revealing the half-inch thick golden metal that shielded his body. Shaka didn't want him wearing any of his Cloth right now while he was treating his back. However, he slipped it on after the reaction of a fearful horse. "Oh Zephyr, you win. If you want to eat up the flower beds at the Pope's Chamber Gardens and leave nothing but dirt, then be my guest." He thought as he began to regain the rhythm of his breathing.
His eyes shifted downwards, where his legs were still pulsing blood, proof that Cursed Milo had carried out his attack to its fullest. There was a heavy tingle, but hardly any pain, a rare moment of blessing from being paralyzed in his legs and the reason he wasn't knocked unconscious like Mu and Aldebaran. That was when he turned toward Milo, crawling toward him, his hair back to its normal shade of purple, his Cloth cracked with holes, blood draining out. It appears that when the Scorpio shot him, just like when they were testing the durability of Sagittarius before, they deflected and struck him instead. "Milo!"
Milo knew what he was going to say, and waved it off. "As my Dad told me if I can't take the pain, I don't deserve to deal it," he groaned before he stuck his finger in his chest to halt the bleeding. His face soured as he moved over toward His Holiness. If it weren't for the Cloth, he would've ripped Aiolos to pieces. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he pleaded, in a rare episode of pure apologetics, as he clumsily pushed his finger into Aiolos' chest to stop the bleeding, only to draw it back from jabbing his finger, forgetting how indestructible the purified Sagittarius Cloth had become.
But Aiolos, finding it easier to just rip the rest of the robes off than unbuttoning them, shook his head in disagreement. "For the love of Athena, don't place any guilt on yourself," he equally professed. He spoke as he raised the Gold Cloth chest piece high enough for Milo to strike the required star point. "Just go and take care of the others." Aiolos turned his head to the unconscious Taurus and Aries before a bright flash blinded the room. He turned and gasped as Milo was literally being jerked away.
Milo unfastened the clips of his white cape to free himself from the pull before spinning 180 degrees to face the red glare of cursed Camus, the golden dagger inserted in the secret slot of the Libra Cloth, a rectangular doorway behind him. "CAMUS! SHIT!" he cursed. "Why the hell are you opening it now!"
The Cursed Aquarius stone face glared onward. "Why are you questioning it? This is our mission and it must be completed." His bleak red eyes watched the Scorpio rushing to Aldebaran and Mu before he clasped his hands together, causing a pulse of red ice cosmos that froze Milo's boots together like a set of cuffs. "Stop wasting time. If we don't leave for the Collective, the door will close and we may lose the advantage and fail the mission," he concluded before reaching down and grasping the Scorpio by his frozen bonds.
Milo fired Scarlet Needle at his restraints, only for each blast to repel the surface. "LET ME STOP THEIR BLEEDING! THEY'LL DIE!" he screamed as he directed his technique to his friend.
"They're replaceable. As we all are," Camus quietly replied, ignoring each Needle striking his body as an elephant would to a gnat. He grasped the Scorpio's frozen legs and dragged him into the abyss.
"MILO!" Screamed Aiolos, his mind frantically searching for a solution. Damn the pantheon, he left his bow at the Pope's Chambers to complete the ruse of visiting little orphan children. As if by pure instinct, Aiolos stepped forward, once, twice, three times! For the first time in over five years, the crippled Sagittarius was moving on his own, driven by the primal urge to save his friends, similar to the drive that pushed his dying body into saving baby Athena long ago.
It should have been a beautiful moment, one that Aiolos had been practicing, falling, and dreaming night after night for almost four years now.
But instead, any desire to cheer and celebrate was moot, as his mind focused on stretching his arm as far as he could and grasping Milo's gauntlet.
He felt his body drag as cursed Camus was pulling from the other side of the door. Aiolos tried to use his other hand to try and plant it down, but his fingers slid, unable to gain any traction from the red surface.
Changing strategies, he threw his hand on the burning hot outer edge of the dimensional doorway, half of his body in the messy world of the living, the other in the chilly fog of The Collective. "CAMUS! LET GO! LET HIM HEAL THEM AND THEN HE'LL COME BACK!" He screamed, his jaw clenched so hard that his tense face was as red as the blood he was covered in.
"Your Holiness!"
Aiolos gasped in relief as he heard Shaka call out to him.
The Virgo leaped right over Aiolos and attempted to enter the door to grab Milo's hand only to be met with a heavy thud as if a piece of glass was in the way. Recalling how Aiolia had the same problem as before, the Virgo shifted his strategy and reached down and grabbed what was left of Aiolos' robes and pulled both him and Milo out.
Shaka raised his hand and slammed it down on the red ice, only for it to bounce off and break his hand.
Milo gritted his teeth as he crawled and pulled himself over to Mu and Aldebaran where he pierced them and halted their bleeding.
"MILO!" Aiolos screamed as the doorway was rapidly shrinking.
Shaka rushed back to Milo and grabbed his backside and slid him toward the doorway only for the Scorpio to slam into it.
Milo gasped as the entrance had shrunk to the size of a mouse hole. If he didn't get back in, Camus was going to be stuck in that place all alone, a fate that most likely guaranteed certain death.
FLASH!
A bright white glow surrounded the gateway, inches before it could shut. Saga lightspeed into the room, his hands clawed and slowly pulled away from each other, trying to prevent the fabric of time and space while widening the space for Milo to get back into the Collective. Blood gushed from his nose and his lip as he was being pushed far beyond even someone as powerful as himself was capable of.
Milo stretched his hand into the widening hole and pulled himself until he could squeeze right in.
Once through, Saga fell to his knees, taking his hand and massaging his temples. Goddess, a pool full of aspirin won't be enough to clear the lingering headache he will have for the next week. His eyes stared at the Golden Dagger, watching it fade away into thin air.
Aiolos laid there on his forearms, unable to repeat the miracle of his walk, he struggled to pull himself back up. Just like when he finally collapsed in that rocky canyon over five years ago, the task of getting Milo and Camus into the Collective was complete, the adrenaline was gone, and the effects of having lost so much blood were causing a heavy sensation of dizziness. A heavy weight envelopes his consciousness, fearful of their safety, but at the same time, well aware there was nothing more he can do and must focus on the World of the Living. He felt a hand reach under his arm and flip him back over. Aiolos shifted his exhausted blue eyes toward the Virgo as he began to apply his cosmos. Aiolos turned again toward the First and Second guardians laying against the wall, their skin so pale that they resembled a pair of mannequins. "...no...take care of them first."
Shaka shook his head in disagreement before tilting his chin upwards as if to make eye contact despite his eyes being closed. "You are the Pope," he whispered while still emphasizing the archer's importance.
Aiolos hated to do it, but he had no choice. "Help them first, that's an order." He raised his thick voice with a slow and stern tone.
Shaka paused for a moment. The truth was, he could technically disobey just as everyone else did with Saga since Aiolos had yet to officially go through confirmation and become the official Pope. "Your Holiness…" The Virgo murmured.
Saga darted his head. "Shaka, your abilities are greater than mine. Help Mu, Aldebaran, and yourself. I will take care of His Holiness."
O|===================|O
THE COLLECTIVE-GATEWAY ENTRANCE
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" Milo barked, trying both to stifle the seething anger in his chest while keeping it as low as he could, as he sat there with his legs still encased in red ice. "Our friends were unconscious and you couldn't wait ten seconds to put in the dagger for me to halt the effects of Scarlet Needle!?"
"Kiki will be old enough to wear a Cloth by Holy War and we have more than enough Taurus to take Aldebaran's place," Cursed Camus spoke as he walked over without so much of an apology for his mistake. He infused his hand with cosmos and broke the red ice if only because it would slow them down.
Milo rubbed his ankles, his mouth slightly parted in the realization of what was happening. Camus was never the same since he accidentally killed Sinmore, Surt's sister, in an avalanche. Seeing his emotions as a danger, Camus became more apathetic, at least on the surface, and except for explanations, curt. But one cannot suddenly change one's personality. Those who had seen him grow up over time knew that beneath the surface of his facade was his kind nature.
Ironically, the curse has turned Camus into what he is always pretending to be: a cold unsympathetic bastard.
The Scorpio exhaled with resignation. Part of being a successful Saint was to choose one's battles wisely. He could try to snap Camus out of it, but that would waste time that they desperately needed or worse draw attention. Camus wasn't hurting anyone and was still focused on their objective. It was best to go along with it, and if they make it out alive, they will have all the time afterward to discuss what a French asshole he was. "What do you see?"
Cursed Camus then took that same hand and caused it to glow before lowering his hand into the dense layer of white clouds that covered around his knees, swirling it around like milk. "Aiolos and Saga were wrong. This isn't fog. Fog is made up of water molecules and yet not even any hint of condensation has appeared."
"So the origin is more spiritual or even related to necromancy."
"Most likely, yes."
The Scorpio turned his head and noticed the faint outline of a large creature in the distance. With an off-side wave, he gestured for Camus to go and the two lights sped toward it.
Once they reached the entrance to the Collective of Libra, Milo was dumbfounded by the sheer size of what Aiolos and Saga referred to as Libra Panda with both Golds being as tall and as wide as its legs.
"Touch!" The Panda struggled to verbalize after practicing for hundreds of years in his limited form. He held out his massive paw, keeping his claws retracted to avoid frightening these two as he did with Gemini and Sagittarius. When one of them placed their fingers on the pads of his paw, he gazed upon the purple hair, recognizing it far quicker than the gold Cloth that adorned him. "Scorpio," he turned his large furry head to the red cursed eyes of the other and placed his paw on its back. "Aquarius, welcome! It has been months since we last heard from all of you and I was worried none of you would come back."
But Camus darted away and ignored the Panda, seeing no benefit with any further conversation with it. Instead, he approached the entrance and pulled out some tools to begin to make measurements of the distance of the fire clock that was illuminated with red flames except for the now purified constellation of Sagittarius.
"Don't mind him," reassured Milo, trying to rectify Camus' snub to stay in its good graces.
But the Panda gave a sage-like nod. "I know...he's cursed." He then moved his head so close to Milo's face that every exhale of his nose caused the purple bangs to wave around. "You have been too. I can see the traces of red in your eyes."
"It was the only way I could come in here." That much was true since even Shaka couldn't enter without exposure to the curse. Still, Milo lowered his head in shame. He wished he knew how everyone was doing. Even if he stopped the bleeding, it doesn't mean they were okay. The worst part is that it could be days, months, or even years before he learns a thing.
"This place can be strange...daunting...for the living. For that, many of us are grateful. at least those of us who truly believe in Athena."
While Milo flashed a gaze of approval and support, underneath he could sense a bit of fear. It made him wonder if it was because the result was that the Panda would fade away as the First Sagittarius did. But, it was a natural reaction and at least not anything too valuable...at least not for the moment. Still, he needed to gather something from the Panda and decided to keep it pleasant and casual. "You served the First Athena."
"I would prefer to call her the True Athena."
Milo continued to humor him. "Of course. The first could not surpass those that proceeded her. Anyways, what was that like?"
"Exactly what one should expect. She promises victory and glory and has always delivered."
"And Ares? You served him too."
"Not anymore. Any respect I held for him faded when he brought about the curse," the Panda bared his fangs, the large claws, each one larger than Milo's palm, retracted out.
To Milo, if the Panda was trying to hide anything, he was doing a terrible job at it. The curse came after the Gold Saints assassinated him. The Panda had just said he had respect for Ares before he murdered him. How could the First Libra lose respect for him after killing him? No wonder Aiolos and Saga didn't trust him. Even Dohko showed doubt. While it was tempting, he decided not to press the Panda further. Having him as an ally at where they entered was far more valuable. Besides, he would probably receive more answers in the Collective of Scorpio. "Ares deserves no respect. He was a blight among the History of the First and continues to be a blemish in Athena's Sanctuary," Milo humored him.
"Finished," Camus proclaimed as he jotted down several things.
"What did you find?" asked the Scorpio.
"Why do you ask? We're both supposed to get out here alive, so why bother wasting time explaining," grumbled Camus as he brushed past the two and began marching toward the back exit of Libra before darting forward.
Milo rolled his eyes and followed. If the Collective of Aquarius doesn't purify Camus, he's going to ply him and the Crystal Saint with a barrel of the strongest Russian Vodka, and lock them up in a Euro-Pop Karaoke Bar just to erase the asshole that he had become.
O|====================|O
SANCTUARY
Aiolos opened his eyes, after getting a bit dizzy from the weightless sensation of Another Dimension. He turned his head, spotting some familiar velvet red sheets and the soft mattress. Was he back in the Pope's Chambers? If he was, where are all his guards? He doubted they would sit back and watch the sunset while he came back looking like he either took a bomb head-on or went to the 12 Labors of Hercules Brothel on BDSM night."How did you find out?"
Saga held out a hand, using Another Dimension to drop a bowl and a rag before opening up another one to provide a warm source of water for it. "I was taking a break with one of Shion's old books in the library when I felt a flash of anger….not mine...his."
"Ares?"
"Yes. After that everything seemed clear...light...free."
"Yeah, I remember that feeling," Aiolos whispered. When he was first cursed, he felt like a puppet. It was so hard for him to describe to others, but even when Ares wasn't doing anything, there was a lingering fear that was always near, as if he was breathing over his shoulder. When he was purified, he regained the sense of peace that one would take for granted. "But still, how did you know to come to the House of Libra?"
"I was worried that someone had stolen the dagger and tried to enter the Collective to gain a more powerful Cloth in secret." It was possible. After all, he nabbed power for five years, who was to say that any other Gold was capable of the same. "Was this planned?"
Aiolos nodded. "For quite a bit of time." He watched a hurt look follow, one that the archer wished to quickly rectify. "It wasn't that we didn't trust or reject you. We needed more answers within the Collective and the idea was to sneak, or at least take Ares by surprise, by sending Camus and Milo over."
Saga's face mused at the plan before an approving nod followed. "Well...he definitely was taken by surprise. Bonehead didn't even offer a witty quip before saying goodbye." He watched Aiolos chuckle at the new nickname he had bequeathed the undead God of War. "But he's not going to fall for it twice."
"I know. That's why if we only have one shot, I'm setting the two best at gathering intel for it." Aiolos held a nervous look. Despite the curse, he still had faith in Camus and Milo, but without the dagger or any forms of communication, there was no way they could provide any additional aid. All he could do is focus on the World of the Living and pray for the best."Any word about Mu and Aldebaran?"
"Shaka sent me a message just a little bit ago. Mu has regained consciousness."
"Thank the Goddess," Aiolos whispered. "What about his injuries?"
"Peacock Agora and Lotus Shiva are escorting him to Tibet to be seen by some Lemurians who specialize in healing their kind." Lemurians were biologically different, the most different being their four-lobed brains to support their natural telekinesis and telepathic abilities. Injuries are tricky since their cosmos can't heal them. A grim fact that was made clear when he tried to help Shion after stabbing him.
"Aldebaran? Has he woken up yet?"
Hesitation followed. "Shaka personally took him to the House of Taurus. He has been drifting in and out of consciousness, due to the blood loss. Shaka believes he will pull through, but has asked his servants to put him on a blood transfusion as a safeguard and are monitoring his vitals."
Aiolos shrank a bit, before forming a fist and began pulling himself up, the dried blood powder breaking off between his finger joints. "We need to go see him."
"Out of the question!" Saga thundered, pushing him back down. "You're not in good shape either…" He tore a hole in Aiolos' pant leg and began to use a towel to clean the blood off, counting the holes. "...and you were nearly killed...again," fear rattled his voice.
"Fine...I'll stay, but...it's not that bad," the archer tried to reassure, but Saga reached for the gold Cloth and pulled it off, revealing the several small uniform bruises all over his chest that completed the constellation of Scorpio. The only thing more difficult to reason than a sorrowful Saga was a skeptical Saga. "I'm not afraid to risk my life to give you true freedom."
But the Gemini lowered his head and chucked the Gold chest piece aside. "Look...I understand why you kept it secret. It's just…" He drew his hand to his face, fearful that maintaining his pride was the reason Aiolos, Mu, and Aldebaran nearly died. "I wasn't completely honest with you either."
Confusion enveloped Aiolos' face. "About what?"
Saga tossed the small towel back in the bowl and set it back down on the floor. He lowered his head and sighed as if preparing himself. "You asked before all of this if Ares had contacted me… I told you no in the Chambers, but the truth was that he did."
"He did?" Aiolos gasped. "Did this mean he knew Milo and Camus were coming bef-"
"-I don't know." Saga interrupted. He swallowed hard. "I was doing the mail and I found another letter from Futaba. He just rambled on about my jealousy and today, of all days, his words...got to me."
At that moment, heated anger came over Aiolos, none directed toward his friend. "He's fucking with you as he did with you before, and just like he keeps doing now."
But Aiolos' words weren't enough. "He was reading my heart and what he said was true." Saga felt himself shrinking more. "I've seen her...met her. She's quite beautiful."
Aiolos turned his head. When he wanted to continue contact with Futaba, he was fearful that Saga's jealous side would act up. He thought that promising him they would try again eventually would be enough, but apparently, it wasn't. "She thinks the same about you," Aiolos spoke as he looked up.
Saga gasped. "What? Why would she write that?"
"Because I already told her about us. When I went to Japan, she asked if I found anyone there. So I told her what type of friend you were before and that I wanted to get reacquainted with you."
"You told her about us?" Saga was still shocked he was open about it.
"Had to change a few details like having you be a Humanities peer tutor with a triple major in Political Science, Astrophysics, and Theater but yes, she knows. There's only one person who I would hesitate to tell and you know who that is."
"I do," Saga admitted, recalling all the times he would accidentally overhear Aiolia trying to hook up his brother with someone from Rodario. "I just...saw the letter and it was different. It smelled nice...perfumed," Saga muttered before growing silent.
"Oh?" Aiolos spoke, a bit shocked himself. If it was like he said, it was no wonder the Gemini was suspicious. "Any chance you can bring the letter you were talking about?"
Saga raised a shaking hand. He tore a small hole in space and time, only for a bunch of random letters and scrolls to rain down on the two. He gritted his teeth. Why did he put Futaba's letter in the bottom of the Pope's mail as if sticking it there would lower its importance. His eyes searched until the perfumed scent and foreign postage caught his eye before he handed it over.
Aiolos carefully tore the flap open and pulled the letter out. It seemed a bit shorter than normal before he began reading it due to it being in Japanese. "Dear Mamaru," he spoke, using the name he went by since his own would make him stick out like a sore thumb. "The restaurant has been so busy with the cherry blossom festival going on. I tried to include some since you told me that Saori Kido missed it. Sorry, they are probably a bit wilted. I tried to use some of my perfume so they still smell nice." Aiolos looked up, seeing Saga's jaw drop at the revelation. He continued. "Mom and Dad found another family. Hopefully, he will be better than the last. They were not too happy that he lied about what type of job he had."
"What is she talking about?"
Aiolos looked up. "Some parents perform matchmaking in Japan," he half-whispered. It was never his favorite part when she started writing it. But as she wrote, he was one of the few she could confide in about it. "I'm a little nervous, but Mom says she thinks this one will be just right. At least I know you are happy with Saga. Futaba." He looked up to see the Gemini's face twisting in more pain. "Saga, when I told you I would give you a chance, I meant it."
But Saga took his palm and gripped his face. "I know...but...you of all people, shouldn't have to prove it. It's me! I'm the problem! After all, we have gone through, after what happened with Shion choosing you, I should put my jealousy away, but I can't! I should have never fallen for his words and it almost got everyone killed...AGAIN!"
"Stop blaming yourself. Futaba's letter wouldn't have changed a thing whether you said anything or not.."
"I know…" The Gemini folded his arms. "I told myself I wouldn't let jealousy get the best of me. And I did! After all this time, why can't it just go away?"
"Saga, sometimes jealousy isn't about what others have, but a lack of confidence in oneself."
"Did Shion say that?"
Aiolos shook his head. "No...just something I came up with, based on someone who likes showing to the world how great he is yet like a true Gemini, doesn't believe it himself."
Intrigued by his words, as if cracking the thick shell known as his ego, Saga smiled. "I suppose what you say is true… "
"No Saga, it is true. Futaba is a wonderful part of my life, but don't forget that so are you."
Saga's cheeks warmed a bit more. "Thank you." He wiped his eyes. His ex-girlfriend called him a crybaby, but damn it, there was nothing wrong with manly tears and nothing could stop them when he felt this happy.
Aiolos reached up and pulled the Gemini's hand down and clutched it. "This is our dream, Saga. The two of us together up here at the Pope's Chambers, doing what makes us happy." Aiolos watched his face warm up once more, revealing the shy smile that he only shows for those who were truly close to him. "Tell you what... most of the guards up here are at the orphanage. We don't have to worry about Ares...are you interested in losing the bet?" Aiolos lowered his voice into a rich husky tone, carefully patting the side of the sheets. He may have been heavily injured, but that had never stopped the two in the past after a good spar. But then, he noticed a wicked grin come over the Gemini. There was something a bit suspicious and mischievous… that same gaze who always gave before checkmate.
*Meow*
Aiolos and Saga both jerked their heads toward the door as a set of claws raked the outside door before an orange paw began swiping underneath the gap.
"Damn it, Hera!" cursed the Gemini as he quickly held out a hand, teleported a can of tuna, ripped the lid, and chucked it back in like a grenade to a foxhole.
Aiolos gasped. "Wait, this isn't the Pope's Chambers?"
Saga's shoulders slumped before he waved a hand and removed the illusion of the sophisticated yet nearly spartan bedroom that Aiolos had established, to one that revealed various bottles of oils and hair conditioners and a large poster of CATS The Musical that Kanon gave him years ago on their birthday. He placed his hands on his hips, realizing he needed to at least say something. "If I would've brought you up there, your brother was going to find out and panic."
While the archer agreed, especially with how he's been acting with Marin due in about three months, there were definitely ulterior reasons. "Bullshit, you just don't want to play black in chess for twenty games."
But Saga narrowed his eyes. "Neither did you since you stacked the bet heavily in your favor. We spend most of our day a few rooms away from your chambers and I doubt it was a coincidence that our meetings at night tend to come right before your bath."
Now it was Aiolos' turn to smirk a bit. "Maybe."
"Maybe? More like guilty as charged." Saga looked back downwards. "But the long-term strategy will do you no good if one is quick and direct enough." He sat down on the side, running a hand on the side of the archer's hips, giving it a gentle massage. "All that matters is you are in my bed and all I have to do is get you to give in. A battle where the environment is at my advantage," he whispered, inching his fingers ever so close to the crouch to tease but not to touch. He pressed his hand a bit more, enjoying the silent and widened expression of the archer before he pulled away and reached for the cloth in the bowl of water and resumed his work of tending to the other Scarlet Needle wounds.
Saga ripped another part of Aiolos' pants a bit wider now to reach the next wound. "Looks like a bit of pressure is needed, Your Holiness. Don't worry… I can be gentle...if that's what you want."
Aiolos turned his head no wildly. "Tease away, but I ain't playing black for twenty rounds!" As long as he resisted, he had nothing to worry about. But he watched Saga tilt his head toward his crotch before he followed suit. Apparently, despite having lost a lot of blood, he still had some to spare in certain regions.
Seeing victory within his grasp, the Gemini moved even closer, admiring the idiot grin that the archer was desperately trying to hide.
"I told Shaka that I would heal you...but at the same time...I will break you," his husky voice teased in an act of pure Geminism, his hand filled with his cosmos, sliding it ever so sensually around Aiolos' strong thighs.
The archer drew his hands upon his face. In a true Gemini manner, Nurse Saga's touch was killing him. But then he sighed and looked toward the ceiling.
Saga paused for a moment. "Worried about the others in the Collective?"
Aiolos nodded. "I know...there's nothing more I can do...but…"
The Gemini sighed. They were both polar opposite sides, Aiolos was always so preoccupied with others while he was always troubled by himself. Even Shion was well aware of it, perhaps one of the reasons he had to two get into chess… the idea that sacrifices must always be made. "It's hard...but listen to yourself. There's nothing more you or I can do...but wait." Saga grasped his friend's hand. "Milo and Camus would tell you the same thing. Trust them." He watched the archer sign and nod a bit in agreement. "Good...now… is there anywhere else that needs attention? Anymore ...aches?" He whispered cheekily trying to distract Aiolos further.
Aiolos groaned and laughed, trying to distract himself as well from his worries. "Is there any way you can shut up?"
Saga's eyelashes waved his eyelashes daintily. "Oh… I could… but it would cost you twenty rounds of playing black."
O|====================|O
STAIRS BETWEEN THE COLLECTIVE OF LIBRA AND SCORPIO
The two golds ran up the stairs at half the speed of Mach 1, not just to maintain a low profile, but to allow Camus to count the stairs. It was a bit tedious, but unlike taking measurements of the Clock, the Collective was covered in so much damn fog that it was the only choice they had. Besides, if the Collective did mirror the Houses in their World of the Living, it could greatly benefit them when it came to strategizing how to move forward against the Undead God of War.
Milo tensed up, his eyes widened, his sixth sense alerting him. He raised a red nail with one hand covering the tip to shield the scarlet glow. Even though the fog did obscure his vision in front of him, it was low enough that he could tell that something was skittering back and forth cutting the hazy smoke in the distance.
There was only one, its movements so wild and erratic like a primitive animal hiding in the grass than a trained minion. Uneasiness crept in his heart as he recalled Aiolos and Saga telling him they came across what they described as a Berserker Scorpio, one that must have succumbed to the curse or at least died while having it… most likely one of his ancestors. "Camus! Stay on guard! And do as I say. I will distract him. His Needles shouldn't hurt me. If you can use that red ice trick we should be able to neutralize him." He communicated through the cosmos. He frowned when he watched Cursed Camus continue to be fixated upon the dimensions of the stairs as a little girl plucking dandelions in an open field." CAMUS!" he messaged again before the Aquarius shifted his red eyes toward him, rolled them in annoyance before blocking him off so he could get back to work. "FUCK!" Milo cursed to himself realizing he was on his own with this.
But before he can do anything, the Berserker Scorpio, wild hair as grey as ash and blood-red eyes pounced forward toward the Aquarius.
Milo's jaw dropped as he spotted the nearly half-foot-long red nail, curved like a middle east scimitar. "SCARLET NEEDLE!" He shot fourteen star points. The Cursed Scorpio fell to the ground, bleeding but quickly stuck itself to heal before firing fourteen back with its normal hand.
Milo sucked in his breath, as he took it all in before healing himself quickly. He darted his head as the Berserker shifted back on all fours like some feral cat before hissing and foaming back at the absent-minded Cursed Aquarius as if preparing to strike. Milo lightspeed right behind his cursed ancestor and wrapped his arms over its before slamming him into the stairs, pinning it. "CAMUS! HE'S OPEN!"
"I'm busy," retorted Camus as he continued to move forward while writing information and observations down.
Milo gritted his teeth, as the cursed Scorpio flopped up and down underneath. Their attacks practically nullified each other and if he got off, the berserker would just go after Camus again. He turned toward the Cursed Scorpio's hand with a gigantic red nail attached to it, the finger purple, swollen, bruised, but also much smaller than his own...it was a child, no older than ten years old. "You haven't used a Scarlet Needle in a while," Milo spoke before the Berserker paused and stopped fighting.
That was it. Scarlet Needle requires its user to promptly grow their nail almost instantly, but just like any other animal with claws, especially in its youth when one had to deal with puberty, if it is not released, it can become ingrown and couldn't be fired, causing a painful blockage on the tip of one's finger. There was a way to fix it, but he guessed that the Berserker died before learning how to do it.
Just like how his father would tend to him at those times, Milo slid his hand over the Berserker's and used his own red nail to chip away at the base, breaking off the huge weight. He then used his thumb and finger to begin to squeeze the end part, hearing the Berserker screech and cry before he finally pushed the last bit of the overgrown scarlet needle out, a purple mixture of puss, blood, and poison dripping out. When he felt it relax, Milo climbed off. He watched its cursed red eyes almost twinkle as if a bit of humanity began to shine through before it returned to who knew where it came from.
Milo returned to following cursed Camus, who continued to remain completely oblivious to him until they reached the top.
A rainbow sheen glowed to the entrance of Scorpio, similar to what was outside of the Collective of Libra. "Aside from doors, it seems each of the Collectives has a similar layout to our houses."
"The distances between the Collectives are exactly the same, including how far the Fire Clock is."
"That proves it, the Collective and Sanctuary both have the same layout. His Holiness will be very pleased by this," spoke Milo as he placed his hands on his hips.
Camus eyed a doorway that mysteriously appeared. "If the layout is the same, then I should be able to reach the House of Aquarius from here." He began to step toward it before Milo's hand snatched his arm. "Let me go! We need to hurry!"
But he continued to hold firmly. The curse was blinding his friend. "Wait until I speak to the First Scorpio." Milo waited until Camus relaxed before quietly letting go. He trusted his friend.
But he shouldn't have trusted the curse.
"FREEZING COFFIN!"
Milo gasped as a thick block of red, transparent, ice surrounded him, freezing instantly in place. He tried to speak, only to find his mouth positioned in the same spot, his eyes shifting back and forth. All he could do was stare as the Aquarius lightspeed through. He focused his cosmos into his red nail, attempting to crack it, only for it to backfire on his finger. Pain shot up and down his arm, his body unable to comfort itself from the burning sensation.
Time passed. How much, he wasn't quite sure.
Right now, it seemed his only hope was he should know if Camus is successful, the curse should pass over to him. Maybe in that form, he will be strong enough to break through, but at the same time, there was also the possibility that he would be stuck, red-eyed and unable to move for the next fifty years… or more.
A large red being appeared in front of him. Milo's body flinched, thinking that Ares was ready to confront him. Instead, the light took form, and before him was a man with heavy wavy purple hair and a curious gaze that mirrored his own. His armor was somewhat thinner, yet more layered, perhaps allowing more flexibility that his own lacked. Upon his shoulders were two large golden scorpion claws that moved as if they had a life of their own rather than serving as some ornate decor. There was no doubt that this was the First Scorpio.
But why was he just standing there?
Milo wasn't quite sure. Was he testing him? No, he couldn't be. The whole bit of Camus putting him in the ice coffin was as random as a person grabbing a deck of cards and the first four were all aces.
But then, the First Scorpio moved so close to the ice, his long vampire fangs becoming obvious.
CRACK*
Milo gasped as he felt Ice Coffin collapse around him.
"Hello, son."
Milo turned to see his father clutching the golden dagger, assuming he used it to free him. "Dad!" he smiled. It's so strange seeing him like this. But he would recognize that worn-down eyepatch anywhere. "It's good to see you."
Scorpio Paris smiled as he stood next to the First Scorpio. "It's good to see you too." But then his eyes shifted from blue to red. "RESTRICTION!" He walked over toward Milo, his son frozen in place before taking the dagger, rubbing it repeatedly. "You know son, you all were fairly close when it came to how to trigger the curse. But it's not necessary that you have to rub it, but the fact that it has to be completely clean to use it. No fingerprints, no dirt, no nothing." He turned his one eye toward the First Scorpio before receiving a nod from the ancestor of all of them before gazing back at his son and flashed the perfectly clean dagger into Milo's eyes until they were cursed once more.
TO BE CONTINUED
Coming in December 2021
Cursed once more, Milo endures the path to purification. But whatever happened to Camus?
Author's Notes: This one had to go through several revisions and editorial passes. It was a case where I was like: Oh let's add this and oh let's change this. It is still the same original layout, but I kept adding more stuff to it. The hardest part was inserting what happened to the others in the World of the Living. I didn't want to leave their fates unknown, but I wanted the section where Milo and Camus in the Collective to be not too broken up.
Camus' turn to be cursed went on as planned. Throughout the story, I portrayed him as someone who was kind underneath, all to turn him into an actual jerk in this. I did enjoy doing the flashback. I like to portray children in my fics so this was a lot of fun. It also gave me the chance to try and create a bit of fanon on how I think Scorpios trained.
Next part will be a bit shorter, but that's also because I will be focused on Sagittarius Week.
Hope you enjoy reading and please review.