WARNING: Drowning, themes of death, prisoner abuse.
The Twins' Interlude
A man alone ventured into the Cult of Athena's headquarters, flaunting around the neck a long and fair cape. That briefly he reached the end of the corridor to enter the room of statues, that vast and open hall, and approach the platform. A meeting was held by the priestesses, but this did not stop him, and the women saw that he was a Gold Saint. Although he wore the Cloth of Aries, this was not Mu.
The tone of his skin was not unlike him and Kiki, as were the markings atop the eyes, signaling the same upbringing — as expected of such Saint. His hair was a wilder bundle of long, fuzzy curls, a darker shade than Mu's; his irises looked subtly lighter despite a similar hue. He kept the helmet under an arm and stopped by the stairs, where he awaited the High Priestess.
After she had been informed of his presence, the white-clad, mature lady who approached was not in fact Aleka, and she was met with more than a respectful bow, for the Saint knelt a while before addressing her. "The market district was thoroughly searched, yet we could not find them," he informed her.
"Then outside they are," the woman spoke solemnly.
Aries got up and looked with a minimal furl of the brow. "The Gemini are valuable enough that the enemy might have kidnapped them, ma'am. Why not contact Heaven?"
"Shion, please, let us assume the best. The parents must be on the run, but they cannot so easily leave the mountain range, weaklings as they are. Take the search out the gates."
He shut the eyes, nodded in obedience, then left with greater hurry in his gait.
There was no mistake in those words; past one of the only portals open to civilians, deep into the twisting mountains and declines, was a loving couple dressed in the typical traveling attire of Sanctuary's merchants. Around a shoulder the wife had the strap of a leather backpack, wherein they held many of their belongings. The husband brought a large basket covered in black silk, careful to soften tremors as he tread uneven ground and rocks; in the other hand he had a lantern, and it had to stay lit by virtue of the falling day above.
Dusk announced night, and those parts they knew to be treacherous at all times, let alone so deep into the evening. That woman was in quite a tired state, regardless of how much lighter was the load she carried, and her partner gave a shoulder that she could rest midway.
"Darling, I see the bottom of a ravine," he said, and it was clear she breathed intensely from exertion. "We're sure to find shelter there."
His wife agreed and they continued a while longer to reach that place, and although it was rather humid at the center — where collected rainwater took days to fully evaporate — they found many slits into the rocks that they could pass. Picking a deep enough cave, they set the basket and the backpack onto a boulder in its interior.
Cold was falling with the moonrise, therefore he looked for twigs and dried leaves from the bushes on the corners, which he used to burst a fire at the entrance. That done, they ate fresh fruit which they brought along.
They sat next to each other, against the boulder where they set their things, and rested. "Things are hard now, I know, but I have a friend in a village near the acropolis. He promised to take us in," the man told her.
She felt tranquilized with these words, yet worries were reawakened at a characteristic sound: the brief groan of a baby. The wife stood up and turned to the basket, then pulled on the silk to reveal two identical newborns, one partially awake and the second sound asleep.
"It's well past their feeding time," she whispered. Very carefully, she took the first child and sat back down, unveiling a breast to offer milk. The infant was so ravenous that he drank as soon as opportunity arose.
The father smiled, left them in peace, and exited the cave to scout the situation. That flame he sparked heated them well, and it was decently blocked by formations around, so that those too distant could not see the shine. It did, nonetheless, make them an easier target.
These two were being hunted after all, perhaps for no crime, but for the preciousness of those whom they carried. Silver Saints scoured through the outskirts of the portal, swift and exhaustive in their efforts, under Aries Shion's orders.
A warrior in the Crux Cloth gazed way past the mountains and saw, through the darkening sky, the stars get momentarily occluded by a black veil. Not just that, but from its direction flowed a sudden, subtle Cosmos, not something he expected from his own colleagues, thus it alarmed him. Despite his first instinct being to pursue it, he instead chose to jump to an opposite location.
The destination was a convoy of soldiers and amazons centered on Aries, whom he approached. "Sir! A strange figure used Cosmos towards a ravine far from us. I am certain it was no civilian," he said.
"Where exactly?" Shion questioned, curiosity piqued.
"It might be safer to gather a team before we leave."
The figure he had barely noticed in fact landed near the ravine, where the father kept an outlook for anyone sent by the Cult. He sneaked betwixt the rocks and spied from the shadows, going one direction first, then crossing the fire to study the other side.
A crackling noise caught his attention, prompting him to pause every movement. From the deepest shadows cast by twists of rocks, the shape of a veiled being came in sight, covered in fabric black as night. The figure, too, stopped in its tracks, and the man stood apprehensively.
A voice resounded, the tone of an aging woman who said: "What do you in a place so inhospitable?"
"Are you from Sanctuary?" the man countered with a question his own.
"I am Pan, naught but a humble mystic. My services were requested there."
Unsure, the father gritted teeth beneath the lips a few seconds. "My wife and I are traveling to our new home. We plan on starting life anew, outside of that place."
Pan nodded, and he noticed how pale was her skin. "It is quite cold here," she commented, "and I see that you have kindled a fire. Would you allow a fellow traveler some heat, if for a few minutes?"
Even in their unease, the man could not help his kindness, and agreed to let the stranger come. After Pan was done warming hands by the fire, she was allowed into the cave and met the mother's gaze, who had finished feeding the second twin.
Visible thanks to the lamp, she took the hood off to reveal graying raven hair, apart from her large, sunken eyes, features fleeting under unstable illumination. The mother was estranged initially, so her husband explained: "Darling, she's a traveler like us."
"I'm glad to make your acquaintance," said the mom.
"I needed only a place to find warmth ere I go on, but oh, how delighted I am to see that you carry babies!" Pan spoke with the lilt of a loving grandmother.
Feeding finished, the wife got off her makeshift seat, and lied the child on the same side it occupied beforehand. The mystic came closer, albeit not too rudely, somewhat away. Noting such meekness, the mother felt safe and signaled for her not to be shy. "You may see them," she told her, so Pan did so.
"Identical twins, are they?" said the other, to which the parents hummed positively. "It must have been a shock to learn so."
"When I first found out, I thought I wouldn't be able to bear them, but lo, I survived the labor, and they've come to be as healthy as a horse."
"So I comprehend that you would start life anew, two children suddenly brought under your wing. I refuse to leave without blessing you on your merry way, if it would not burden you."
The couple exchanged a gleeful stare, and the mother safely said: "No, please, do as you will! We need every blessing we can get."
Therewith Pan bordered the basket with her torso, and brought both hands up to the first child. "Worry not, for I will bring my hand to them, yet never touch them. That is not needed," she assured both parents. While both palms hovered close to the baby's chest, a menacing, red glow outlined her robes. Slowly but surely, the child on the left went from the typical image, to carrying an ever brighter fluorescence, that was until he seemed to be composed of light alone.
Done, Pan stopped and so briefly did that shine vanish. The parents were shocked to see that a mystic was capable of feats similar to that of the Saints and priestesses, though they couldn't sense nor understand the Cosmos, and they did not know the extent of that blessing she cast unto the boy. The second child began to receive this blessing, and once a dim fluorescence was apparent, the traveler was startled by something outside.
"Someone else arrived," she remarked with a frown, to which the father became agitated.
"Damn it! Sanctuary must've found us," he assumed. "Hide the kids!"
He ran out to kill the bonfire with kicks, whereas mother and mystic fumbled to disappear with the children. They took them off the basket, using the silk as a hold, and so Pan led her deep into the cave, where it was difficult to see. She brought her behind a rock formation and whispered: "Stay here."
"Alright," the mom replied, but when she looked up, she didn't meet any sign of life. Perhaps betrayed by the faint lights, it felt as if the fellow traveler vanished in the split of a second. "W… where…?"
Shion stormed in accompanied by Crux and a small team of Silver Saints, catching the father in his attempt to turn off the lamp. The man walked in front of them, but was pushed aside by an invader with ease, for they wished to check the basket straightaway.
"Empty," Shion told his subordinates. "Clear the cave! The mother must be hiding with the Gemini."
The father's instincts surpassed his reason, so he responded aggressively: "You won't have my sons, damn tyrants!"
Met by his swing, the Silver Saint nearest to him swept the arm off and pushed him to a corner, index and middle finger precisely pressed against his Adam's apple. "We are not here to kill anyone," said the warrior, "and I prefer not to have my hand forced."
It was Crux who, delving into the cave's narrowest sections, caught the view of that terrified mother behind the rocks. Understanding that she could no longer hide, but unable to do much more besides hold her children tightly, she sobbed.
"Please, please, don't take them from me!" the woman pleaded.
Crux was not swayed and called the Gold Saint anyhow: "She is here, sir!"
Aries had so soon approached the mother that she stood, newborns entirely covered. Due to her reaction, the babies cried too, sharing the sorrow. He lifted both hands as if to take an offering; the woman embraced them more tightly instead.
"No, I implore you! I don't want to live without my babies!"
"Absolutely, you are a mother after all. It suffers us to do this, even if not as much as it does you," he explained, "but I am compelled to take them no matter the cost."
"I can't! I can't just give them away, it would tear my heart so."
Without any more words to offer her, Shion swung the tip of the fingers towards her stomach, and the energy-fueled strike was too weak to harm her, yet enough to debilitate her. That promptly she fell limp to the rocks, but Aries and Crux were quick to ensure the twins were safe in the first's arms.
"You monsters!" the father screamed and began to weep as well. "My love, what have they done to you?"
"She is fine," one of the Silver Saints said.
It didn't take long after Shion turned to the lantern's light for the mother to get up, this once with Crux's aid. He placed the newborns inside the basket with utmost caution, and unveiled them to check their state, relieved that they were unharmed.
"Again the prophecy holds true in my lifetime; by the first Moon in Gemini after the Geminids, Castor and Pollux are reborn in Sanctuary's grounds, with souls noble, yet loving parents of low blood," the Gold Saint remembered.
"No!" the mother protested once more. "If you are to steal my babies from me, call the names with which I mothered them!"
He took the basket in a hand and lifted it towards her, allowing it as demonstration of respect to her role. "So how are we to call them?"
"The one on the left is Kanon, and the one on the right is Saga."
"And which came out the womb first?"
"Why would that matter?"
"Answer me, mother," Shion pressed her. "This is of grave importance."
Body trembling with frustration, the woman pointed to the child on the left. "It was Kanon who was born first," she revealed.
"Then here is the Gemini Saint. I give you my word that they shall be properly cared for."
The Saints warmed the twins with the silk, and despite the disquiet, they slowly calmed, so the basket was taken outside.
"That means the High Priestess will turn my sons into mindless drudges like you," the father complained, but the men did not reply and simply left. He hugged his wife and tended to her suffering, but stumbled outside regardless to meet the fate of his sons.
After the dust had settled, it was surprising to notice that the mystic, Pan, was nowhere to be seen. The woman scanned the surroundings and remembered how quick she was in vanishing. "The one who blessed them has disappeared..." she commented.
"Huh?" Observing the same thing, his next complaints came late, since the Saints were already out of reach. "Wait! That woman, she was one of you, wasn't she? Bastards, you fooled us! Have you no limits?"
Nevertheless, that mysterious woman was found no more, and the Saints took the Gemini to the Cult of Athena, where their identities were averred. From that point on they were raised with their selves in mind, always in observance of their mother-given names, although their biological parents weren't allowed to watch them grow.
Nearly two decades passed since that event. The Gemini were educated by the priestesses, and trained under the guidance of multiple Gold Saints, however, Kanon remained their primary focus, because they believed him destined to turn into their constellation's Saint rather than Saga.
Even with every word and affirmation that they were Castor and Pollux, Kanon held that solely in faith rather than through experience, unlike his twin, who seemed more aware of their upbringing. Similarly, it was Saga who became a powerful fighter in his youth, whereas the other had to put inestimable effort into achieving what the Cult believed to be natural to the Gemini.
If by superstition, tradition, or law, the fact remained that they believed Kanon to have been born first, and thus that he carried Pollux's soul; by virtue of this, he was the one to occupy the role in life. In the occasion that Pollux could not take the reins of Gemini, it was Castor — Saga — who did it instead. Such was the Cult's belief.
The longer he was denied his Cloth, the more impatient Kanon became, understanding that Saga would've donned it long prior, when they were yet children. The more he saw himself beneath his brother's abilities, the more envious he grew; the more he lived in Sanctuary as what he deemed to be a peon, the more dissatisfied he turned, and so he committed an unthinkable act.
Leading three rogue officers of Athena's army — who had been denied Sainthood once to several instances — the first Gemini plotted an uprising. To the few soldiers they recruited, arguments of illegitimacy were raised; they claimed that the cultists and Saints had no grounds to rule in Athena's absence. In private, however, they desired naught but power unbridled by guidelines. This goal they paralleled with the Dark Saints, though at the time, the latter were dormant and unfit for operation, whereas Kanon's men were well-organized and faithful in their success.
Said faith did not last. They rose, and with it the Pope gained full control over Sanctuary's affairs, no longer responding to the High Priestess. Absent mercy, the uprising was crushed in a matter of days, the enemies' rank or family disregarded, and their leaders were ultimately trialed. Since they believed death to be too soft a penalty for treason, the Saints had Kanon and his company thrown into an impenetrable keep for the remainder of their lives, where they would eat and drink scraps, and where they were certain to die without much outside contact.
Caça, a Portuguese officer, was the leadership's elder. In the past, he had competed for Sainthood of the Corona Borealis constellation. Like the Gemini, Virgo, and Phoenix, he was known to possess an affinity for mind games, which he used to lure hundreds of soldiers to their deaths. For this he was sentenced to a life of hunger and isolation.
Io, a Chilean officer, was the youngest among the leaders, sixteen years of age at the time of the uprising. Although he was proficient with the Cosmos, he was known to be a serial failure, having been denied Sainthood under the Serpent, Wolf, and Bear constellations. Imbued with the utmost envy and cruelty, his orders led to the massacre of uncooperative civilians in Sanctuary's eastern districts. For this he was sentenced to a life of hunger and isolation.
Baian, a Canadian officer, was the last of Kanon's generals. After failing a tournament for the Equuleus constellation, he enrolled in the army and stood out for his quick wits and Cosmos expertise. He was tasked by the first Gemini to blockade the Temple of Aries, a siege that lasted days and concluded with his troops' bloody defeat. For this he was sentenced to a life of hunger and isolation.
Kanon, for his attempt to storm the Ecliptic Temples, slay each and every Gold Saint, supplant the Pope, and bring a new order to Sanctuary, was also sentenced to a life of hunger and isolation.
"And so this is how it ends," the voice of a young man echoed down a faintly lit cavern. In tunics and few plates of leather armor, it was Saga who asked this, and he accompanied two Gold Saints in similarly light attire.
The one up ahead was Shion, looking more mature than he did at the time of the Gemini's birth; the one beside him was a teenager much like Aiolia, and this was in fact Leo's older brother, Aiolos, who had already achieved Sainthood at such an age.
In the outskirts of Sanctuary, they had entered an indistinct, remote, artificial mountain, then descended to its abyssal end. "No, dear friend," Shion retorted. "This is how it restarts."
He waved to a portal of Doric signatures, its pillars tall and the marble darkened by dust. The etchings were of slaves, prisoners of war, and criminals hauled by military, forced to fall into a pit's fiery damnation. Beyond the threshold, the place continued, albeit as a properly built corridor of some limestone rather than the rough, natural walls before it.
The three crossed and walked towards a stone door in the distance. "In the first Holy War, well before Sanctuary was constructed, this prison had already been buried underground. Its reform took nearly as long as the erecting of the Twelve Temples," Shion told.
"Why is that?" Saga inquired.
"Look behind us." Upon turning, he noted that the portal they cleared no longer exited to the cavern whence they came, but rather straight into a wall. At that instant it dawned on him this was no different from Sanctuary's many one-way passages to Earth, and once the points had been connected, Aries illuminated the truth regardless: "The danger of such a dungeon under Earth did not escape my ancestors. It is built well below the water level, and its defenses are marvelous. They are sure to live and perish there, as its every prisoner did throughout history." Saga silently sighed at the thought of his brother's final days being in a home so pitiful, though he could not deny how deserving he was of it.
They saw two stairwells that ascended, presumably to some complex connected to the surface, their only hopes of leaving that forlorn building. Thus they pressed on till they were faced with the stone door pushed open by Aiolos and Shion, each half entering a slot in the opposite direction.
The two descended a flight of stairs, Gemini slower than his allies. The rock adjacent to the prison was of a different composition than the building's remainder, greenish like the metal alloy used for the frontal gate. Said metal seemed to enter deep into the structure, such that it served as a secondary barrier that could arrest the most powerful of warriors.
Fearless of the folk therein, Shion risked himself near the gate, where a thin, scantily-clad prisoner held the bars, lit only by charged crystals on the outside. "Bring me food, sire. Any food will do," he said.
"I have not come to bring food, but to speak to Kanon," responded Shion.
"But, sire, they never allow me any food! Whichever meal is brought down, the others eat it all, and I am left with rotten skin, if anything."
The Gold Saint didn't seem fazed by that poor fellow's suffering. Instead, he looked peeved, disgusted, asking: "How many innocents have you murdered, wretch?"
The prisoner's expression shifted from that of a pitiable elder to a more severe one; he let go of the bars and creepily slid back into the corridor's darkness, and from a distance a menacing shine could be seen. Anticipating his action, Shion took a step back, and like clockwork the inmate returned at full speed, forcibly slamming the metal.
The thing vibrated, absorbing the extent of his stride. Seeing that the structure continued into the walls, it was in fact designed as a complete, large, rounded plate, floating in a gap and held only by beams in certain divisions amid rooms. That vibration, therefore, went on to submerge the whole prison in a deafening tone that hurt the ears of those present.
Saga and Aiolos felt their eardrums pained, so they muffled them with fingers, something Shion did more calmly. The prisoner, however, grasped onto the gate like a frog, foaming at the mouth, irises possessed by blank layers.
"My crime has been paid — my life is worth as much as the next's — my victims were worth as much as me!" he grotesquely screamed, tone both desperate and sarcastic. "Or no… no such thing as an innocent, we all deserve death sentences! I was their jury, their judge, their headsman — ten, fifty, thousands, what difference does it make? Either that, or my crime has been paid — to rob me of freedom is a sin! Aries Shion, oh so pure and almighty, is your goddess ever proud of our suffering? Is your goddess ever sated, that she built this… this torture device? Is she truly any better?"
"Shut your mouth."
"Hear now, and how better are you?" the man sung and slammed the gate again, though this time not harsh enough to worsen the ringing. "History has taught us over and over, it takes barbarism to heal a civilization's putrescence! We represent Earth's future!"
"Shut your mouth, prisoner."
"You have decayed to this by your goddess' ignorance of human nature. Aries Shion — Aries Shion and… who are the boys?"
"None of your business."
"More fodder for the judgmental priestesses, yes? Formidable work, converting more youths into self-righteous husks!" He kept on running his mouth, shaking the gate and gazing deep into Saga's eyes now. "Tell me, what man would in good conscience starve his peer over a few murders? The dead cannot feel pain, but I live, so I can! And to enact so-called justice in the name of a goddess whose word is as empty as her heart..."
"ENOUGH!" Shion screamed and, with a flash of Cosmos, dared slam a fist into the prison straight to his chest. That criminal was sent flying to disappear in the darkness once more, whence the sound of steps and mocking laughter echoed.
"That… that man…" Aiolos stammered, shocked by both the demeanor and speech he had been endowed with.
"There are those who only end up here by merit of their insanity, then there are those who fall insane after enduring it for long enough," Aries explained after taking a couple breaths. "Whether one or the other, insane is what that criminal is."
That laughter inside the prison encroached, as did the steps, ever closer to the gate. In the same tunic he wore when he was thrown in, the visage of Kanon appeared next, a decadent mirror of his brother, eyes reddened around the corners, oily skin, and dry hair. The leadership of the uprising had only spent a few days imprisoned, although they stayed under arrest for long in Sanctuary, without chances to tend for their appearances.
"We are cursed as bloodthirsty murderers, but the old bag of bones lying dead back there was just killed by your hand, Shion, and no hand of ours," he spoke with a caustic tone, nose shy of touching the bars.
The Gold Saint stayed calm and excused himself: "Thrice did he utter our Lady's name in vain, dismissing my warnings."
Kanon chuckled. "Quite overprotective of a woman who has not been born yet, but alas, you probably did him a favor. Starvation is too slow a death compared to what he was dealt."
"We have not come to debate morality with your kind, prisoner. Your brother has come to see you a last time in life." That said, Shion stepped back and tilted the head so that the twin would approach, and Saga did so cautiously.
The closer he got to the gate, the more Kanon seemed magnetized to it, shoving face, chest, whole flesh onto metal. "Brother," he whispered, "have you learned what you are to do?"
Saga squinted and shook the head. "I know not what you speak of."
"Have they not come to you as they did to me?"
"Only one thing has come to me, and that is the Sainthood you abandoned for the sake of egoism and ambition," he said that with the voice raised, so his company heard it.
"I wonder if it was luck that kept him from ever wearing that Cloth," Aiolos commented. "Now the proper someone should do it in his place."
Saga opined: "Luck it was not. I believe it was divine justice, brought unto my brother by our Lady's ever-present spirit."
"Divine justice? Foolish Saga…" Kanon grumbled in frustration "… it is not Athena you serve, but the Saints, the Pope, the Cult! When they are your only option, you should serve no one if not yourself!"
Taking in that vision, hearing those words, Saga could only come to one conclusion. "We cannot be twins," he affirmed.
"It is obvious that we are. What else could be truer than that?"
For all intents and purposes, that mirror Kanon represented was a disgraced one, and this undeniable truth could so suddenly be questioned. The respectful half of the Gemini stood proud and collected in face of his fallen half, albeit nonetheless inquisitive. "Then why have you betrayed Sanctuary, brother? Why have you betrayed Lady Athena?" he asked.
"It was Sanctuary that betrayed itself," Kanon replied.
He absorbed the hopelessness of his endeavors there. Saga turned around, and this prompted his friends to leave alongside him, without further arguments, without goodbyes. They took the stairs and walked towards the stone door well above.
His frustrated twin pleaded that his cause be given a chance. "You are more than just my blood!" he yelled. "I am you, and you are me! If what they claim is the truth, then our souls co-existed for millenia; that they would divide us is a desecration of our every rebirth! You are Castor and I am Pollux! Recall these words!" Shion and Aiolos pushed each half of the stone door shut while he finished the rant. "They desire to turn us against one another, to reduce us to war dogs! SAGA!"
Stone clashed together and he knew he could not be heard anymore. Out of anger, Kanon used all his strength to strike the gate, and this made the prison ring more loudly than it did beforehand. Apparently unaffected, he growled and bashed it harder, and thus the sound finally hurt him almost as much as it did his new roommates.
A prisoner ran to the front and tried to push him to the corner. "Stop that!" His response was to lash back in fury and drop the weaker man to the floor. The other criminal had fear in his eyes, but in that tantrum, Kanon merely ventured back into darkness.
Staying long enough in the prison meant the prisoners' eyes were habituated to the deficient light. Regardless, most of those who stayed there were capable of the Cosmos, and their auras were oft the singular source of illumination, especially when the crystals outside the gate ran out of energy.
It was like this that Kanon strolled past the rough rooms, empty apart from the few prisoners lounging, corpses in putrefaction, or bones and ashes of those long deceased. The man killed by Shion's harsh punishment had been carried to a stuffed place wherein no one slept, one pouring an overwhelming miasma. They sealed its passage with a large boulder and smaller rocks that were separated from the formations.
A group of prisoners respectfully nodded to him, and he walked by without giving them attention, so they grinned in jest. The deeper he went into that corridor, the more it began to twist, the more the width varied, occasionally tighter, occasionally spacious. As if protecting the insides from some aquifer above, the edges dripped water, and moss crept out from neighboring cracks.
He trailed the texture on the rocks with an index until a few depressions caught his attention, therewith he stopped walking, delineated the shapes some more, and turned to study them closely. Face so close that he could smell the limestone, he saw how smooth the formations were compared to the rest, and assumed they were likely man-made.
Curious, Kanon trailed the texture more meticulously, mentally making out its shape, which happened to encompass the wall's entire height. Its form, however, was basic: an archaic alpha, the central line forming a diagonal from one leg to the next. The man understood this to be a peculiar symbol.
At the risk of making the whole prison ring again, he struck the mark, and although the green rock received a minor dent, no sound came after the impact. It was clear that part could not vibrate the plates that wrapped the building. Safe, he struck it one more time, and that dent deepened by the tiniest of amounts.
Since they had little else to do in that hole, he struck it endlessly for the hour. Almost no progress was made with each punch, no matter how much impulse he put into it, but he felt closer to esoteric revelation whenever he did so. Few prisoners forayed those humid depths of the prison, for they believed that the wet structure was bound to collapse at any moment, although one of Kanon's colleagues found him upon noting his absence.
That teenager who approached was an avid admirer of the man, and he was Io, the more brutal of the bunch. His extremely long hair was light, his slender eyes borne a bright gray, and his skin, too, was fair, turning pale by the recent lack of sunlight. With features somewhat delicate in parts, somewhat masculine here and there, it was only the muscle tone of the slim body that made him look the part as a trained fighter, barely covered by the dirty tunic he wore.
"That's where you are! What did that wall do to you?" the boy asked.
Kanon took a while to answer, punching a few more instances before he gave attention. "It might not seem it, but an alpha is inscribed into these rocks. Instead of wasting the little life I have with those other fools, I will uncover the secret behind it," he said.
"Huh… are you certain that you're not chasing a rainbow?"
"No," he promptly replied, "but I see nothing better to do around here."
Io sighed and let the hair hang beside him, either disappointed or preoccupied. "Best to leave you to it then, boss." Thus he came back to the others.
The first Gemini pressed on, denting the hole ever deeper into the mark. He only ever stopped to eat, drink, and sleep. Food and water were only offered to the prisoners in insufficient quantities, twice a week; they were given food that would've otherwise gone to waste in Sanctuary, much of which had begun to rot. Since most of the prisoners were powerful men, they endured it; their bodies, however, languished over the course of time.
The water was pure and pristine, for it was plentiful where they came from. The humidity of the supposed aquifers above the prison weren't a good source of drink, because that water was too saline and mixed with filth; as a result, the criminals developed a habit of wiping leakages off the rocks and rubbing it on food, all to disguise the taste.
Day in and day out, Kanon mined the marking with punches, and eventually this caught the attention of fellow prisoners. They would come and watch the madman bury an arm deeper, conclude it was too dangerous or futile, then move on with their miserable existences. No one ever aided him, not even those who served him in the past, but he stuck with that intuition to the end.
There came a point that, even invading the fabric of his Cosmos, that strange material split the skin of the knuckles. It was then that the hole he built felt the thinnest under the strikes, so he dug out the dust and shards and swung a mighty bash that crashed right through. When he reached in with the arm, he felt empty air on the other side, the wall's girth being nearly the distance from wrist to shoulder.
"I… I found it," he murmured, so he pulled the arm out and burned his aura to look into the darker space within. A series of glimmers responded, like the surface of shaped, lustrous metal, therefore he was sure that he had struck something valuable. "I knew it!"
So he struck harder and faster to enlarge the hole in and out, as long as that would take. Kanon tired himself out that afternoon, and when Io checked on him, he noticed how ecstatic the man seemed with the hits compared to past days. "If you do it like that, you won't last until the night," said the boy.
"I was right, Io!" Kanon told him, out of breath from the mining. "I bore a hole right through, and there is something within!"
His ally frowned in shock. "What? That's impossible!"
"Call the others! We might have an exit."
While the boring went on, Io hurried back and asked for Caça and Baian, and despite their cynicism, they came to check on the one they believed to have gone insane. The hole had been reamed open to an extent that Kanon could better see the contents therein, although they were plenty, and their shine was too complex to be identified.
First was Caça, a somewhat hunchbacked one who resembled more goblin than human. His dry, loose skin was unhealthily pale and seemingly diseased with red rashes in the corners of the neck, shoulders, and more. Even with this, he was visibly strong, with muscles swelling — vascular and obscene — from beneath the tunic. His head was nigh bald, only tufts of black hair remaining on some spots. So atypical did he look that most would not have guessed his age, although he was no elderly. With his strange, tiny, pale blue eyes, eyelids drooping from the face, he judged Kanon's effort.
Second was Baian, a handsome, muscular warrior with brown hair as far low as the neck. His skin was light yet rosy, and his shapely eyes had brown irises. Not the most acidic of the bunch, he preferred to stay afar, reluctant to admonish a friend's actions no matter how bizarre.
It was Caça who taunted the leader: "No longer than a week and you are already fully immersed in madness, yeah?"
"I am not mad, Caça! I have already seen that there is… something on the other side," Kanon said in between punches, then invited the men closer. "See it for yourself that your doubt is misplaced."
They came and looked with aid of their own lights, and it was confirmed that there was a room beyond the wall, and that something shone behind it, although Caça was stubborn. "It could be some old room sealed off by a landslide," he argued.
"Or it could be freedom, so how about helping me out here?"
With a snarl, the other did so, then Io and Baian joined. They slammed fists with force to crack the hole open, and the pressure of their Cosmoi attracted prisoners to watch from behind formations. It was the sight of virulent delusion to them, obsession that spreads from one to the next as does the flu.
Disregarding judgmental eyes, they continued. "I can't believe we're doing this," Io commented.
"Hush and keep striking! We should be able to slip through it soon," Kanon ordered.
The trio carved ever inwards, and that maddening labor, after nearly an hour of exhaustive investment, was fruitful. The hole had opened large enough that they believed they could go in with some effort, as much as their weakened, thin flesh could.
To not waste any more time, Kanon did the first attempt. He slithered in with the head, then one shoulder, then grabbed onto a rock on the other side to slip the other shoulder through. His allies pushed his legs and he slipped fully, thus dropping inside. As soon as he got up, they spied in to see whether he was fine.
"It is larger than it seems from the outside," he told them and burned some energy to light up the way.
Baian questioned: "What do you see?"
Kanon analyzed the contents and thought it best to have them in, for what he saw resembled Gold Cloths, apart from two odd structures in their midst. Each armor had been placed on a stand, and although they had been wrapped in some kind of coated paper in a distant past, the material had long crumbled to reveal the metal beneath, covered in particles of stone. More interestingly, an old parchment hung vertically from the helmets, and it had the barely visible word "Ἀθηνᾶ" brushed on it.
"Cloths… there are Cloths in here!" he spoke.
"Cloths you say?"
"What? We're going in!" Io hurriedly spoke, and he was the first one to try and slip through. One by one they went in, and the other prisoners grouped much closer to the site, finding such discovery questionable regardless.
Once the three were inside, they skimmed the situation and uncovered the supposed Cloths. Each man ripped the material that peeled off of their metal, then dusted off some of the substance on it, seeing how the dull shine amplified.
"They truly look like Gold Cloths," Baian remarked.
"But they cannot be, it would not make any sense," said Caça.
Kanon was focusing on what stood between the armor stands, starting with a tall, slender amphora over a marble table at the front. Whereas the paper hiding the armors had mostly flaked off with time, the amphora's did not, for it had many more layers, and it had many more coatings that rendered its surface repulsive to sight and touch.
He observed that a piece of parchment displayed the same writing atop it, and came closer to see how it had been painstakingly covered. That was the moment he heard a strange, liquid rumble deep inside it, one that made him stand back from the artifact a while.
Raising Cosmos further, they illuminated the structure surrounded by it all: a large dome of some fascinating metal, covered in mottling patterns; it was built over a heavy platform, and possessed a round passage into its insides, empty apart from hypnotic shapes in the brass underneath. The more captivating sight were bronze statues constructed to guard the dome's radius, such as a hippocampus — a creature half horse and half fish — a siren preparing flight, a monstrous squid menacingly embracing with tentacles, and a guard near the entrance donning Ancient armor, trident boun.
"My guts tell me we have found an escape," Kanon spoke.
Io laughed gleefully, saying: "Jackpot! You were right, boss! Let's take this wrapping off."
So they excitedly started to remove the seals of each piece of armor, finding them to be seven in total. While his partners did this, Kanon focused on carefully peeling the sticky coating of the amphora, although foreboding suggested him otherwise.
That thing yet rumbled, furious, demanding an escape from Athena's coils the same way that they did. Had Kanon's vigilance surpassed the longing for freedom, he would've stopped at once, but he pressed on. With the old fluid gluing to the skin, he ripped through until the white ceramic of the vase was revealed, beauteous and decorated in golden shapes. Under the seal, it had remained pristine; it must've been built centuries prior, though it looked brand new.
The rustling sound within rose in intensity, and eventually became like a snore that caught the attention of everyone in the room. Anticipating something, the first Gemini opened distance, and suddenly the snore turned into a true roar that shook the entire prison, ringing the encompassing plates.
"What have we awakened?" Caça screamed, and that was the last thing they could hear, for the amphora's lid exploded to the rocky ceiling, and from the container escaped a blue plasma that filled the room to the brim. It passed through the criminals' bodies, instilling a deep cold.
The roar transitioned to a terrifying, low-pitched hum, and this made the prison endure an event like an earthquake. As the ceiling and walls were wet there, they instantly crumbled like soft sand to bury those present. This was not all, since when the ceiling broke, it exposed the prison to a voluminous aquifer. The rocks were washed along with anything inside, then sucked into the depths of subterranean water.
Prisoners outside the room felt the vibration against the wall, most retreating in the belief that the ceiling was about to sink over them too. "Idiots, I knew there was something wrong!" one said.
However, that sturdy wall held better than whatever stood beyond it, and the men hurried to block the water that leaked into their side with boulders and rocks they grabbed nearby. Once only small drips seeped through, they felt at ease, believing Kanon, Caça, Io, and Baian to be dead.
In the aquifer, all was dark; the tall ceiling had cracks shy of connecting with the ocean above, though this never came to be. A singular light source was kindled, majestic, rainbow-like; it took the shape of the dome's round passage, and illuminated those evocative figures that diligently guarded its entrance.
The glimmer faded under that filthy water, then was obscured over the course of time. A pair of eyelids widened, its owner scared awake, brown irises aimed to the wooden ceiling of a shack. The glow of Earth's dawn diffused from a nearby window, shadowing the petals of flowers in a pot and painting rustic furniture in dream-like haze.
Inspiring strength, the awakened sought to sit up, for he lied fully up, although some weight atop him seemed insurmountable. He tried to groan, no words exiting his stiffened lips. It felt as if he could move a hand, yet upon taking note of its position, it actually never moved from the mattress. Despair overwhelmed him, trapped in his own body, surrounded by silence, with no one to aid.
The eyes lowered to meet that weight incapacitating him. A soft breath struck the skin, fresh and caring, and he met the image of a radiant youth, large wings of pale feathers — this was Hypnos, stomach lying down over him, feet to the air and elbows to the chest below. He enveloped the one below under wings and smiled maliciously.
"Kind morn to you, good sir. Fear not, for I have come at the behest of one dear to your brother," the boy whispered with his playful, albeit archaic, drawl. "You may have heard her name before."
Hypnos giggled at the man's ghastly expression; that one he perturbed was Saga, and sunrise had come to a conclusion on the outside, brightening the abode some more. The counter below it displayed a large bowl with plants and blooming flowers, their perfume extended by earthly breeze.
A Dirge to the Lost
A basket of colorful roses and smallage dangled under someone's delicate arm, though these were lit by Sanctuary's nightly radiance rather than the previous sunlight. Its carrier strolled towards a field of dirt, and therein he saw many a tomb of stone, with sculptures, statues, and mausoleums alike. Several folk convened on the outside of the half walls delimiting the area, apart from those who paid respects amid the sarcophagi.
Nearing the entrance, this person approached the images of Shun, Hyoga, and Seiya, all in civilian clothing typical of Sanctuary's inhabitants. The latter two were patched up with bandages and curatives, especially for Pegasus, who had collected a large quantity of injuries. "Mister Seiya, Mister Shun!" the florist said, and this was revealed to be Pisces Aphrodite, adorned in a white tunic and cloak.
He stopped in front of them and bowed, though the Saints didn't smile enthusiastically. "We're glad to see you," Shun greeted him.
"I must say the same about you, boys. I heard of what happened to Shaka and your brother — I extend my most sincere sentiment."
Andromeda shook the head and turned to the ground. "It's still hard to accept, but I am always reminded that many others experience similar or worse pain right now. That's the one thing that keeps me going."
"You're right," Pisces said with a nod, "but, please, allow yourself the mourning you require." He thus lifted the basket as an offering. "Would a rose or celery befit you?"
The boy leaned closer to take a black rose and a string of smallage, yet upon approaching, he noted the edge of a dark, branch-like scar below Aphrodite's chin. "Eh, that scar…" he curiously murmured.
"Hm? Oh!" The Gold Saint took note of what he referred to, chuckling and rubbing the marking. "It pertains to you, so perhaps it is of interest that I show it."
Therewith he set the basket down and partially unrobed himself, chest and back exposed to reveal the softness of his slim body. Although the others had no qualms staring, Seiya looked tense at the sight, incapable of getting over their first interaction; for that he momentarily looked aside.
Shun and Hyoga, however, were transfixed by what they witnessed: dark, tiny burns in the intricate shape of a leafless tree, spreading from an arm to part of the chest, then up to the neck. Aphrodite smiled at their curious expressions, if not Seiya's shameful one.
"I… I can't believe that you have been this injured!" Shun said with a sense of guilt.
"Is it not mesmerizing?"
"If you view it from that angle, sure, but I wish things didn't have to end up this badly."
As he covered himself again and went for the basket, Pisces answered: "But they did, and nothing can change that. The nurse told me the scars should vanish at a week's notice, though I can only imagine what I would have done, had it gone as far as my face."
The man was finishing saying that when Shaina — in light armor and attire — left the cemetery behind them, slipped a rod of smallage and a white rose into a hand, then tapped Seiya on the shoulder with the back of the other. Attention rudely called, he listened to her whispers while the others conversed.
"Well, at least you're alive," Shun said to Aphrodite.
"Though the same cannot be said about some of my friends." Shun sighed and Hyoga also seemed fazed, so Pisces announced his leave with an educated wave. "If I may — Lady Athena awaits me."
Whereas he went towards the sarcophagi, Shaina went in the other direction, towards Sanctuary's city. "I'll be back in a bit," Seiya told his friends, intent on following her.
"Alright!"
Because Ophiuchus paced impatiently, he had to press the rhythm to reach her. "But do you have any silver or anything?" he asked the woman, apparently continuing whatever conversation they previously initiated.
To that she showed a tiny sack of linen in hand. "Marin's rabid dog gave us some before leaving for the hospital," she explained.
"Rabid dog?" Only brief reasoning was necessary for him to come up with a guess. "You mean Aiolia?"
"Yes. Rabid cat just doesn't sound right."
"Sheesh, you're still mad about that time!"
"Don't act like he has more than pebbles inside that skull of his."
Seiya squinted and mumbled to himself: "She really thinks every man is stupid, doesn't she?"
"Said something?"
He babbled, imagining he had been heard: "Uh! N-no! I was wondering, you know, why buy more flowers when Aphrodite was right there?"
"Because he doesn't have the one I want," she coldly answered.
"Okay, I guess…" he muttered after lifting the eyebrows.
The sound of construction in the streets was a constant back then; the corners had grown livelier, and the folk felt hopeful of their future again. Even a day of war made the innocent thankful to experience normalcy again, and this reflected in their thirst for the day, working, playing, chatting, or even just sightseeing.
The pair approached the square and met the many vendors and tents selling an assortment of goods, including flowers, a temporarily booming sector with the amount of dead to be buried. Shaina stopped by a wooden counter and found what she searched for, that being a small wreath of yellow strawflowers. Passing a couple coins of silver, they walked through the next streets and made it to stalls where medics cared for many yet injured.
These had been built ahead of a wide stairway leading to Sanctuary's largest hospital, which was just as crowded. Behind a couple people, they met the sight of Kiki, Mu, and Shiryu chatting on the steps.
Much nearer now, it was clear that Dragon didn't have as many exposed bandages as his friend, though some were visible on the arms. "There's Shiryu!" Pegasus called, and they went for the three. "You're here again…?"
Upon encountering them, Shiryu smiled brightly. "The infection was hurting a lot, so I came over to Mu and got something for the pain," he said.
"Ah, alright. We're going to see how Marin is doing."
"Is that so?" He eyed Mu for a second, and the Gold Saint nodded comprehensively. "I'll go with you then."
"Wish her well on our behalf," Mu asked.
"Certainly."
After their goodbyes, the group cleared the patches of people to enter the hospital, and inside they found patients lying on thin bedding over marble frames, distributed near the walls of the entrance hall. The doctors and nurses hid their heads with hoods, faces with wrapping, and portions of the room had been put behind black curtains.
Passing one of those, Seiya and the others revealed another room, and the view within was surreal, beneath the mass of crystal light diffused by thin drapes off lowered cornices. Only a singular tall window up ahead shone starlight in, albeit filtered by lattice.
Pegasus appeared confused about his master's location, and mistakenly peeked into the wrong curtain. "Was it…?" Shaina tapped his shoulder like before and pointed to the other side.
"Over there," she warned him, so he gasped and followed.
Enclosing a bundle of veils, whispers and muffled sobbing were overheard. Seiya pushed it aside and surreptitiously stared inside to see that Aiolia sat on a wooden chair right beside Marin's bed, under a crystal whose shine had begun to fade. If Seiya was overtly bandaged, the amount of bandages on her skin surpassed excess, including a patch that covered the right eye. Due to the pain of burns and scrapes, she only weakly tied arms around the man's back.
Leo cried into her shoulder, or so it seemed. They could barely make out his words: "I thought you were gone, that I had lost you…"
The Saints took in the scene at a loss, when suddenly Marin's eye pointed towards her apprentice, who widened an awkward grin. "Hey," he called out to her.
Aiolia promptly leaned back and let her go. The only one to enter that cramped space was Shaina, lest no air be left for the patient to breathe. "We visited just to see if you're not dead yet," she told her, "but Seiya insisted that we bring you this."
Onto Marin's lap, she left the white rose she had taken from Aphrodite's basket, and the woman's reaction was a gracious smile from the corner of the lips. Puzzled, Seiya raised an eyebrow at that. "Thank you," said Eagle.
"Mu and Kiki wished you a speedy recovery too," Shiryu reminded.
"Are they still too busy to see me?"
"Yeah, he barely had the time to help me out today!"
"I wish I could go to the funeral with all of you," Marin longingly spoke, then looked to Aiolia, who yet wiped the wetness from under the eyes. "Remember to leave something for Ban."
He confirmed: "I will. Aphrodite must have arrived, and he always has plenty for us to offer."
For a while Marin stared back down to Seiya, and a thought made her gaze wander in discomfort. "The boys arrived here expecting to learn something new, and look at how things ended up…"
Her student beat a fist to the chest and looked with determination. "Even with what happened to Ban, I'm sure he was grateful to have trained under you, Marin," he spoke with a nod.
Once more she smiled and shook the head. "It's fine. I find solace in the fact that we killed that monster. His lies cannot hurt anyone else from now on."
Their visit did not linger much further. To not lose the opportunity to hear Athena's words, and to allow Marin her needed rest, the others descended from the hospital and returned to the cemetery, where they rendezvoused with Shun and Hyoga. They strolled over paths between the tombs, to a monumental mausoleum in the distance, tall and surrounded by several pillars.
Though they were far, an angelic song could be heard reverberating from within it, accompanied by harp. They entered to meet the chanters, each and every one dressed in black robes, led by Athena's voice — the goddess had covered her hair in a loose hood, and held back tears as she sang.
It was a monophonic dirge which they offered the dead, one that not even the harp of the woman sitting on a stool harmonized. As was traditional to Sanctuary's music, they oft shifted modes, meaning the song felt both saddening and exotic to outsiders like Hyoga and Shiryu.
The words were of some Ancient Greek dialect, going: "Ἰὼ ἰώ! Πολλοῦ τε χρόνου ζώσης μέτρα δὴ καταλειβομένης τ᾽ ἄλγεσι πολλοῖς!" [Woe, woe! Time's comrade long have I been, and many a tear for many a sorrow have I shed!] Athena looked down at the five coffins lined up in the place's center, detailed constructions of stone for each Gold Saint gone, that being Shaka, Shura, Deathmask, Camus, and Saga; there their constellations were represented in arduous intricacy. The song changed mode a last instance: "Tί γὰρ ἂν μεῖζον τοῦδ᾽ ἔτι θνητοῖς πάθος ἐξεύροις ἢ τέκνα θανόντ᾽ ἐσιδέσθαι?" [For what greater agony would one find a mortal, if not the sight of children dead?]
High Priestess Aleka was among the mourners, though she did not sing with the priestesses and acolytes. Rather she paid respects over Deathmask's sarcophagus, and was approached by Shaina, whom she apparently was acquainted with. The Silver Saint lied the wreath of strawflowers over the stone and embraced the Cult's leader.
Not too far, Shiryu stood behind and caught the High Priestess' glimpse, so she nodded respectfully to him, flooded with tears; that was her sign that the kindness offered to Cancer's corpse did not go unnoticed.
The others present watched the chant's conclusion; because the singers had been displaced sparsely along the vast building, the living Gold Saints mostly stood betwixt them. The recent arrival, Aiolia, stood beside Lady Athena; Aldebaran stood close by, also dressed in similar attire, those intricate white himations theirs; Aphrodite was nearest Deathmask's sarcophagus too, yet holding that basket full of roses; Mu and Milo were not present, for one reason or another.
Finished, Athena pulled back the hood to reveal part of her hair, allowing tears to freely flow down the cheeks. She stared at the etchings in stone once more and raised the voice for a speech: "Here rest only five of those thousands victimized by the war. Look upon them not to see valiant combatants, although that they were; I invite you to see only evidence of the single most certain, tragic fact of violence. At the culmination of peace, the reason for combat matters not, so let us occupy ourselves only with the means to avoid it, but, above all, the means to rebuild. And rebuild we shall!" She intensified her voice with those latest words, disregarding the unavoidable sorrow. "Each wall torn down, each home, each broken bone, let it be restored, sound as never before!" she said, and those who had comrades severely injured, haply close to death, harkened to memories of them. They had nothing but good thoughts, but the goddess' words gave them unreasonable hope. "Our losses, our mourning — those must only feed our vigor for renewal. This is not the end, only a new beginning. Whomsoever we face ahead, a weakened Sanctuary they shall not meet, yet one toughened by pain, one keen and united. We are to stand at the front line, together!" Calming the tone, she bowed to the present and expressed gratitude: "Thank you."
"We are ever grateful for your words, my Lady," a priestess responded in everyone's behalf.
A large group of men approached the coffins at the end of the proceedings, and they hoarded them to one of the many blocks and columns outlining that central hall, each with dozens of compartments wherein they slid the dead. One by one the coffins of the Gold Saints were inserted, to rest the bodies alongside that of past warriors of their rank. As a sealant, workers with trowels stacked marble blocks at the entrances, which they glued together and behind a layer of cement.
There their flesh resided to decay in the centuries to come, though their souls moved on to purification, and a soul of gold would forever strive to achieve good deeds, no matter where rebirth took them.