Saints of Athena

by fantasos

A reimagining of the original story of Athena and her Saints, from the Galaxian Wars until the Heaven Arc. Seiya, Shun, June, Shiryu, Hyoga, and Ikki fight against and alongside other Saints, developing their skills, maturing, and doing their best to defend humanity and their goddess.

73. Shaina's Interlude

WARNING: Allusion to domestic violence and murder.

Shaina's Interlude

As per usual, the House of Cancer upheld its ghostly atmosphere, the cries both of souls stored in the Hellmouth, or those few left wandering the altars and statues of the nave. A year after Deathmask, his work yet decorated the sculptures, wax or stony faces of despair dangling from strings, to forever reflect on the derelict who died in terror.

Closer to the chest, two people seemed to interact with a small quantity of weeping shades; the one in pale robes was High Priestess Aleka, while the one covered head to toe in black drapes was that designated to be Deathmask's heir. A scarlet aura crowned the cultist's left hand, which she softly swayed along the air to affect the fleeting fabric of a specific spirit.

The Aspirant's hidden face followed the movement studiously, and Aleka guided by saying: "The frequency is its secret, whereas the amplitude is but a matter of training. Try it yourself."

To this the apprentice raised a draped hand, burning a red aura similarly. Though the energy this sparked was subtler than the Priestess', it resonated and fluttered the dead roaming nearby. Even as her hand waved about, the effect remained, so Aleka proudly smiled.

"Beautiful," she said. "Same as sound disturbs air, you affect a soul without touching it. With frequencies low enough, and intensities at the zenith of your power, you might achieve the Praesepe Waves."

So she strolled behind the Hellmouth and touched the edge of its lid, tensing it. The Aspirant stopped acting on Cosmos and repositioned, so as to prepare for an intense release of stray spirits.

Aleka sighed and asked: "Are you ready for a test?"

"I am ready, Lady Aleka," Cancer's Aspirant replied, and her voice was of a young teenage girl, almost deep and grim enough to be a contralto, yet undeniably feminine.

"Well…"

Aleka pushed the top with force, having to put hip into it, and from a significant gap in the corner barged out hundreds of souls. The temple's center was thus huddled with those, and their moans of suffering became deafening, though the women did not seem too bothered by it. They idly watched the dead clutter their visage for almost ten seconds, like a huge mess to be cleaned.

"Catch them in your net!" the High Priestess yelled and opened distance.

The young girl lifted her other hand, revealing it grasped the cord of a bronze hand bell, smoothly and finely finished on the sides, albeit rougher and brighter on the inside. That reddish plasma spread from her once more, and she rang the instrument while announcing: "Praesepe Waves."

The tip of a nail, from behind thin fabric, touched the top of the ringing metal, and so the red glow spread in conjunction with the bell's vibrations. The sound lowered in pitch slowly until it became inaudible, and only the shifts in air pressure were felt. A cycling low boom remained, strong and steady, just no longer seeming to originate from the very object.

The stripes of Cosmos pulled each lost soul back through the gap, and the Hellmouth was to swallow them once again. Compared to what Deathmask once displayed to Shiryu, this pull was weak and patient, though it was methodically applied no less.

As soon as the last soul had been swept off, Aleka shut the passage, and the Aspirant muffled the vibration. "I never expected the bell to be of use. You did terrific," the woman told.

"I am most thankful for your instruction," the girl said with a respectful bow.

Aleka sighed with a smile, and turned to the statues beyond altars, seeing that the masks hanging from them were slightly disturbed by their act. "How wrong I was to assume you were too young…" she reticently spoke, and her thoughts went to the Cancer Cloth, safely stored not in that very place, but far above in the Temple of Athena. "It is a hardworking man you shall fill in for, but now I realize you are the finest pick after himself."

Children of the Strawflowers
The High Priestess' thoughts recalled a time long gone by, back when she met her first apprentice to achieve Sainthood. She had recently been inaugurated in her role after several years in service to the Cult, well after the last Pope's election. With the current Cancer's old age, a replacement had to be kept available; thankfully, Sanctuary had taken measures inside and outside itself to recruit such.

But it was not him that she recollected initially, rather a little girl also from Italy, born from a poor suburban couple. They had freshly moved to the outskirts of a larger city, and so they lived in this cramped, low-class house in a bad neighborhood. The girl's hazel eyes were similar to her young mother's, though the raven hair differed from her brown one, something inherited from the father.

Evening came a given day, and only the mom stayed home with her, since the dad was late to return from work near the weekend. Such a situation begot unease, which the mother masked with gentleness; she led the daughter to her poor bedroom, and assured before shutting the door: "Non lasciare a meno che non te lo dica io, capisci?" [Don't come out unless I tell you so, understood?]

The girl obeyed, so the door was shut behind, and she turned to her stuff. The small bed was a mess of blanket and sheets, right under the window, blocked by a wooden shutter. A backpack was left in a corner, beside the few toys she still had: rag dolls, small wood blocks, and a partially broken xylophone.

In a long gown, she went and slipped over the bed, then covered herself only with a thin sheet, kicking the blanket lower. It was early and she was not the drowsiest, though, lying to the side and given enough time, the girl slept soundly. She stayed peaceful and content for a few hours, not a sign of her father's coming.

From the other side, the front door opened and a conversation started. Her dad's loud voice slurred words that could not be made out in the bedroom, and quickly the chat evolved into an argument. Loud chatter grew to yelling, so the child awoke. It was far from the first instance of this happening, though whenever it did, a tightness pressed in her chest.

A slap and a scream resounded beyond the door. The daughter sat up in a hurry, visibly shaking, pace of her breath broken... holding the sheets tight against the chin, her fingers thereon hurt, but there was no stopping the noise in the house. Without seeing what took place, her mind was overrun, and the sounds blurred into each other. More crying, more beating, furniture crashed and broken, several minutes of panic passed like a few seconds...

Near the end of it her face was coated in tears, moreover, her body trembled in pure trauma. A last, loud slamming sound shook the floor, and things were silent for a good while. More slurred words, then the muffled sobbing of the dad, followed by no other sound. The front door shut, steps echoed in the street ahead, and the house was still.

As the typhoon seemed behind her, the child became morbidly curious. She wished to exit, but knew not whether it was safe, and wished not to anger the mother. However, the last instances this had happened, it would all end in crying, not stillness. Something had changed, a realization that sunk her hopes.

"Mamma?" her voice barely came out, so she repeated it louder. "Mamma!" Shaken as she was, it was difficult to speak proper words. "Posso lasciare ora? Mamma?" [Can I come out now?]

Things had gone terribly wrong, though the extent of the damage was outside her reach, let alone how to proceed in such a situation. She remained seated, weeping harder, cursing those fears. A few minutes passed; in came the intermittent sound of a siren, closer and closer, and then flashing blue lights shone through the sill. Car doors were opened.

She couldn't hear what a group of men spoke outside. The front door was loudly opened, thus she flinched, hiding behind the sheets as if this could protect her from danger. Exclamations were exchanged, then someone tried to turn the bedroom door's handle; that child slowly pushed the back against the wall behind, anticipating an entry.

The door banged, so she screamed. A voice called on the other side, and again the door banged, so the flimsy lock gave in. In fact the mom had stealthily closed it on the key, and the one who entered could not bother to search for it; this was a police officer, pistol in hand.

She squealed, and the man looked at her with widened eyes; he expected a suspect, but instead found another victim. He fixed a white strap over his blue shirt, sighing as a lament. The gun stayed aimed to the old flooring, whereas he raised the other hand as to tranquilize her.

He said: "Va tutto bene, tutto bene…" [It's alright, alright…] Eyeing the open door he had just broken, he called for a colleague. "La figlia è qui! Da sola!" [The daughter is here! Alone!] A response echoed, so he holstered the weapon and approached with the slowest steps. "Starai bene, ragazza, te lo prometo." [You'll be fine, girl, I promise you.]

As the officer approached, her crying did not cease, and neither did the shaking. Though she had been found safe, she had no idea how safe her mother could've been, and little trust to offer a total stranger.

Trust was a scarce resource; her extended family was no more trustworthy than certain nobodies, and as the future went, the girl skipped from a home to another. She was ever a temporary responsibility; no one had the intent to keep her much, so, when opportunity presented itself, she was driven by a worker far up north.

The day when she arrived in the facilities was a warm afternoon. Many buildings composed it, including a tall, Romanesque church of white stone, its doors behind arches. Beside it were the low walls to a vast cemetery, which seemed to serve not only the locals, but also nearby towns and villages. On the other side of the street, one could've found the iron gate to the charitable institution itself, an arc above it forming the words: "TIMOR DOMINI PRINCIPIUM SAPIENTIÆ".

Incised on a plaque over a brick wall was its name, "L'Opera della Sapienza", and therein the several buildings where benevolence was allotted to the needy. One was a rest home for the elderly and disabled, another a building that housed poor university students willing to assist, succeeded by two school buildings, and a monastery. Apart from these was the central edification, which was a large orphanage, home to many children in need.

It was at the frontal section that, in an elegant office, two adults decided the orphaned girl's fate. "And where was her father taken?" an older woman asked; she was white and in her fifties, dressed in the dark-blue habit of a Catholic nun.

The worker who responded wore black formal clothes, and held a flat-top hat against his chest. He was ahead of the nun's desk, side-by-side with the little girl, who now wore a nicer, light blue dress with a black lavallière.

"Social services got no confirmation yet, but no doubt he will be put in for life," said the man.

"Does her extended family plan on seeing her?"

"I wouldn't count on that," he awkwardly responded. "The aunt who brought her in was very poor, and, well…" He looked beside him to the child, so the nun strolled around the desk and leaned lower, close to her eye level.

"Shaina, is it not?" the Sister asked, but the child merely stared. "Was this aunt of yours the one who sent you?" The girl nodded. "Are you close to her?" She shook the head negatively. "Is there anyone else in your family you would like to see?"

The child stared in silence for many seconds, but she shook her head the same way eventually. Standing back straight, the nun saw the worker's worried expression, and he shrugged subtly. "As I said, don't count on it," he repeated.

"Such misfortune, but this is what we are her for," the woman said.

"Sister, I'm safe knowing you'll take her under your wing, I'd ask for no one better. It's only the distance that preoccupied me."

"Seeing that she has nobody left, we will ensure this becomes her new home, and we become the new family she sorely needs."

The man lowered the head and said: "I'm glad to hear that." Then he put the hat back on his dark hair, and walked a bit to the door. "Let's get the papers signed, I'll be back in a minute."

It was in these facilities where Shaina was subsequently raised, at least for months to come. In the orphanage itself, she observed the daily care given to infants until teenagers, either by secular carers, or the women of the cloth. She prayed and ate with the kids in the home's long dining room, or in the charitable cafeteria built by the church.

The school next-door served the orphaned the most, if not children from poor families without alternative for education. Again, nuns did a lot of the work, though laypeople were in charge of teaching some subjects. Thanks to this, the girl was able to bridge the education she had lost while being sent back and forth between family members.

Most kids had little trouble warming up to her, since she appeared shy and inoffensive, yet boys remained a challenge. Shaina harbored a cynicism easily triggered by the smallest of mishaps, not an uncommon behavior from her part, albeit one gone unnoticed by the Sisters.

Such was a sign that the terrors she underwent had not fully escaped her thoughts. Fear was an emotion she barely comprehended, but one ever voracious in the unconscious. When echoes of her father's dysfunction and mistreatment emerged, they came as a shock to everyone, including herself.

Shaina had almost grown accustomed to sleeping in a bedroom with multiple other girls, since space in the children's home was used most efficiently. It was in one of those nights that the girl opened her eyes rather late, and her entire body felt heavy, a trouble to move under covers. For a second she believed she was about to fall off the bed, but both arms jerked, and autonomy returned her.

The girl was on her side, looking straight to the wall near the bedroom door; moonlight was filtered by tree leaves, which cast shadows from the window. She stared catatonic, paying attention to what was this strange rattling coming from outside. A deep sense of loss chilled her spine, then her entire flesh, and her heart felt too dense to keep beating.

A blurry cacophony of fighting, ceramics being blown to shards, screaming, and crying exploded in her ears. A sickly stench of alcohol seemed attached to the inside of her nostrils, and, attempting to escape the onslaught, Shaina curled against the wall behind the pillow.

Another girl was startled by the sound of her sobbing, and when she saw that Shaina covered the face as to rid of the smell, and the ears as to rid of the noise, she paid more attention. At that point her eyes glistened with an abundance of tears.

"Shaina?" the girl called. "Why are you crying?"

More girls got up, estranged by a disturbance so late. They sat or got up entirely, watching her sorry state. "She's crying a lot…" another child remarked.

But Shaina never stared at them, instead to the side, at the bedroom door. She spied from the duvet, expecting the handle to be broken so that she would be taken away. The first girl, oldest in the bedroom, sneaked in front of her and asked: "Did you have a nightmare?"

Her eyes were peeled to that door. She only babbled, then shook the head and buried her nose deeper between the sheet she gripped. Another girl came too close to the bed, and suddenly Shaina crawled back, releasing a high-pitched, elongated scream.

"Calm down!" the girl yelled, and finally Shaina's wet, reddened, ghastly eyes changed direction. Her shaking worsened.

"Call one of the nuns!" said another.

This was too late, for hurried steps already came up to that floor. The door swung open, and, as before, Shaina got jump scared. It was the head of the orphanage who entered, the same Sister who admitted her in, and she was covered in a white nightdress, a toque covering the graying hair.

"Stay away from her," she spoke with firm authority, thus the kids walked back.

"Y-yes, Sister," the older roommate said.

With that the nun turned on the light and wandered calmly to the crying Shaina. She raised both hands towards her, ensuring more soothingly: "Everything is safe, no one is being hurt." The girl's eyes wandered towards the woman, so she could find safety in her caring expression. "No one is being hurt right now, Shaina. Everyone is trying to sleep, just like you."

Despite some quiet sobs still escaping her, Shaina allowed the Sister to sit on the bed. The woman did not touch her, for all she needed was that the girl recognize her safety. Following the passage of seconds, she could breathe better, her body felt less cold, and the discord in her mind was revealed to be illusory.

"How do you feel?" the woman asked, to no response. She placed a hand on the bed, to which the child did not recoil — a good sign. "Tell me if there is anything you need."

"She woke up and started crying out of nowhere like that," one of the girls told.

"When we tried to come closer, she screamed at us," said another.

The nun looked back at them and ordered: "Do not come close to her when she is like this, heard me? Call me or another nun, then leave her alone."

"We… just wanted to help."

"It would not have helped her," said the nun, therewith she looked to Shaina once again, who seemed much calmer, despite a residual trembling. "You are shaking so much, child…"

The girl stammered as if she were cold: "I-I… I want to sleep on… o-on the couch."

"The couch?"

"Y-yes, not here…" she paused to breathe and gulp in saliva "… not here."

"Come." The Sister helped the sheets off and put an arm around her shoulder, leading her to the door. While leaving, she looked back to the remaining kids and turned off the lights. "You lot, go back to sleep. She should be well in the morn."

With this she shut the door and took Shaina downstairs. A handful of other orphans had spied the racket from their own bedrooms, and those the woman also hushed back to sleep. Accompanied by her, and resting in a less fearsome bed, the child was able to make it through that night.

This event had been enough to raise questions over the tragedy that orphaned her in the first place. Nuns, carers, teachers, and others came to learn of her troubles, and, by the nature of gossip, many of the kids did too. This, however, never became a further obstacle for Shaina to fit in, as well as one of her personality could.

In the weekends, the orphans were brought to the church on the opposite street, where they would engage in a variety of activities. Some of the oldest were taught solfege, bowed instruments, or painting. Several of the youngest were brought in for catechesis, which to them functioned as an unfortunate extension of school.

Whatever they came to do, once they were done and the afternoon was not exhausted, kids were allowed to freely play in the premises. In such a weekend, Shaina was involved in play with a large group, and they had decided to try hide-and-seek. For the third or fourth instance since beginning, the children scattered and ran, while a seeker counted.

As she yet felt somewhat odd from the others, Shaina thought it best to make up her own hiding spot, and therefore she escaped the nuns' dedicated watch. She sprinted down a tiled corridor, followed a heavily fragrant perfume by a stone arch, and found that the cemetery nearby was abloom with shrubs of layered, minuscule yellow flowers.

By instinct, the girl ventured in and slowed down, walking quick instead of running. There was no plant more dominant than those fragrant things, tiny in their own right, although when dense and numerous, they resembled the most colorful straw at the tip. These were beautifully maintained between the tombs, statues, and private mausoleums, which Shaina crossed.

Such a place possessed many a hiding spot, she thought — this being before an infatuation with its splendor distracting her. Gracious, a handful of butterflies soared from bush to bush, flying right of a mourning, veiled sculpture. The girl took this like a blessing, unable to make out that this was a site of death exhibiting a great deal of life.

She kept on treading these wards, admiring the epitaphs, forms, colors, and materials. A tall, square building near another entrance became her desired destination, so she went on to it, and it displayed similar beds of flowers in its outline, in addition to ponds with gray carp surrounding it.

Her eyes admired the fish for as much as a minute, occasionally walking near the water, before her attention was taken by the presence of two people. A strange-looking, bearded elder wore a loose, thin sweatshirt, old leather shoes, and some stitched, damaged pants. He spoke to a kid in a buttoned shirt, which she recognized as an older boy from the orphanage, and who held one of the fine yellow flowers in a hand.

Both looked down at the petals, thus the boy touched it with an index, and his tan skin seemed to shine weirdly beneath the sun. Without apparent explanation, the many layers of the flower came undone, spreading out with a waving motion.

Shocked, Shaina came closer, revealing her presence to both. Suddenly the old man bumped the kid's shoulder, and they went their separate ways. The girl hurried to one corridor parallel to that which the boy went for, then raised her voice to speak to him.

"Hey, you're from the home too!" she said. The boy almost stopped, yet he thought hard and gave up on it.

"You shouldn't be here. The sexton doesn't like when kids wander about," he said.

"But I…" the paths converged, so she was finally able to meet his way, now almost abreast with him. "I saw what you did to that flower."

"Is that so? I don't see an issue," the orphan replied, though with the side-eye he briefly offered, it seemed this pestered him.

"You opened it with your mind, like a magic trick."

"That's not what I did."

"Yes, it was!" she insisted. "How did you do it?"

"I did no such thing. I just tore it with my hand," he continued to lie.

Concluding there was no manner to get through him, Shaina changed strategies: "Okay, then why did you tear it apart?"

"I was bored, is all."

The girl sighed in frustration. "Whatever," she uttered, pressing the pace as to be some steps ahead of him for a moment. However, her curiosity was not sated, nor were her inquiries; she slowed down to fulfill them. "If the man doesn't like when we enter the graveyard, then why are you here?"

"You're like an annoying little sister," the boy complained with a snicker.

Shaina grunted mutedly, then pressed her pace once more. "I don't even know why I bothered talking to a boy," she muttered from behind the teeth.

However, the other replied out of his own accord: "Because I'm friends with the sexton, he lets me be here."

"Yeah?" she idly questioned, curiosity piqued yet again.

"Yeah."

"Then how can I be his friend too?"

The boy assessed that question with a raised eyebrow. "Why would you want that?" he asked back.

"So I can walk in the graveyard."

"You enjoy being in a graveyard?"

"I guess," she answered, though she wandered a while, gesturing to the view around them. "It's pretty like the church, but open like a park, and there's less people here."

"There are lots of people, they're just dead and right under our feet," the boy remarked.

Shaina looked down and thought a couple instants, noticing that it didn't phase her much. "They're dead already," she asserted, "there's nothing they can do."

The boy laughed aloud, taken by surprise. "You're not wrong!" he said, and finally he set himself to walk at the same speed as she did. "My name is Alessio. You're Shaina, if I'm not mistaken."

"Who told you?" she almost immediately questioned.

"The nuns talked a lot about you since you arrived. I'm sorry about your parents."

Shaina looked away from him and up ahead, somehow feeling distant from everything that had happened that night. The more days passed, and the more her customs flowered with those of L'Opera, the more her circumstance felt derealized. It had turned halfway into a nightmare, yet the remaining part felt as vivid as ever.

"We're both orphans. Your parents must've gone through really bad things too," she observed, suddenly monotone.

Alessio also looked forward, perhaps in an equally distant mourning. "Again, you're not wrong," he said, and his voice was also grave.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of many shoes rushing from a crossing. The kids with whom Shaina played had lost sight of her, and so they went in pursuit to the cemetery. "There you are, Shaina!" a girl from her quarters called. "You shouldn't hide here."

She turned and didn't say a word, whereas one of the other girls squinted at Alessio, asking: "Are you friends with him?"

To this Shaina only shrugged, so Alessio took the reins of the situation. "You've got a problem?" he asked the other orphan with a sarcastic smirk.

"You're weird," the child replied after a second.

"There's no rule against that."

Shaina smiled too, and the girl shook her head as if to mock him. It was her roommate who waved for her to follow. "Come on, the boys are playing marbles next!" she told.

The children ran, which bothered Alessio; before Shaina went after them, she whispered back: "Remember to talk to the man."

"I will," he assured, thus she felt free to speed back to the church.

They played for an hour or so, till the evening came. Under a gloomy sky, the Sisters gathered the children to cross the street, back into the home. Shaina saw that Alessio came, just distant, much more odd from the others than she was.

Once inside, the kids had dinner, which had been prepared in their absence. Some of them helped the carers and nuns wash the dishes in the vast kitchen, while others went straight to put on sleeping attire, then to chat, read books, or play games by a fire in the living room.

Shaina herself took one of the many old children's books available on the shelves; she lied on the rug, opened the book against the floor, and very slowly made out the large words thereon. The night was quiet apart from the sound of dishes washed and stacked, the clicking of flames, or some bored chatter.

In flannel and socks, a boy walked up the stairs towards the bedrooms, and Shaina looked to learn he was Alessio. Under an arm he had a much thicker book, and although the bluish leather cover was difficult to make out, none of its letters were recognizable to her. Inquisitive, she thought of going after him, but the hour wasn't conducive to this.

"Bedtime!" a woman's voice echoed from the upper floor, and so did the ringing of a small bell. "To your rooms now! Rooms, everyone!"

A couple of the kids groaned, and all of them got up and went to their respective quarters. Shaina put away the book and followed suit, joining the rows of people; upon reaching the next floor, there was no more sight of her older friend. For each bedroom, a nun always awaited them to ensure they prayed and lied down, and that night it was that same head of the orphanage, the one to rescue Shaina in her last terror.

Going in, the girls knelt beside their beds, an act she imitated. They whispered their own words while the Sister watched intently; singling out Shaina, she noted that her mouth did not move, though her hands were joined upon the mattress, eyes shut.

Shaina sensed the nun's light steps, then her form crouching beside her. "Pray, Shaina," the woman calmly asked.

"I don't…" Shaina turned to her without much shame, despite unsure words "… know what to say."

"Thank the Lord our Father for that which you have," the Sister clarified, then motioned for her to shut the eyes once more. "Say it with me: thank you, Lord…"

"Thank you, Lord…" Shaina mimicked her mentorship.

"… for the life I am given…" the two went on "… for the roof over my head… for this bed of mine… for the clothes I own… for the meals I ate… and for the school where I get to learn." With a pause, the nun guided her to finish: "For all of this, I thank you, Father. Amen."

"Amen," the girl concluded. She opened her eyes and took in the Sister's merciful expression, who then stood.

"Was it not easy?" she asked. The child merely nodded, laconic as she always was. "Go to sleep then. Thank God like this every day that you can, as it is only right that you do so." She helped the kid get onto the bed, then covered her in the sheets. "Will you sleep well?"

It was then that the young girl realized, the nun had stayed in that dormitory to ensure she would rest safe, so that she would suffer terrors no more. "I think so," was all Shaina mustered.

"You can call for us if you feel scared."

"Yes. Thank you, Sister."

The rest finished their prayers and lied down, therewith the nun turned off the light and wished them: "Goodnight, girls." With this she left and shut the door.

Shaina turned to the side, eyes peeled to the wall adjacent to it. Her mind dove into the nature of those fears, and she felt as if none of it were a threat anymore. Quite opposite, her curiosity spoke louder, to know of how Alessio had magically spread the flower, what the sexton knew of it, that mysterious comfort of the cemetery, and the language on her friend's book — it was far from a children's story.

Disoriented in speculation, Shaina was eased into a profound, peaceful slumber. By the time she woke up, the morning sun shone past the windows, the bedroom door was open, and her roommates were already perusing their chests to get shower utensils. Downstairs was a muddle of voices, surely of the folk lining up.

The girl got up and took things from a long chest by her bed's foot, that being soap, towel, and more in a small bag. She went down to the lively scene, clean kids making their way to the yard behind the kitchen, where nuns hanged wet clothes, or set dirty ones to wash.

The noise from the stove was from breakfast and lunch being prepared, a pleasant smell emanating. It was ahead of its wide entrance that Shaina went beyond, to join a long line of girls who were about to shower.

A cook left the vigil over a pot to nudge her, saying: "Shaina, at last I caught you! I was meaning to ask you for something." The girl looked at her, no words, only expectation. "After school, you will come with us for the soup kitchen."

"But…"

The woman nigh instantly spoke over her: "Ah-ah! Before you protest, know it will be quite a simple job, just filling and handing bowls to the elderly in line."

"I just wanted to know if I can help in the graveyard instead," Shaina ultimately spoke.

A puzzled frown stamped the woman's face. "The cemetery — what is there for you to do in such a place?" she questioned.

"I like it there," the child curtly replied.

"You like the church's kitchen too, yes?"

"I do, just…"

In that moment the orphanage's head passed by them, so the cook called for help: "Sister, you heard this?"

"Hm?"

"I invited Shaina to the soup line, and here she says she would rather work at the cemetery."

The fashion which she relayed this information felt wrong, though the girl did naught but stare at the old nun, not a hint of rebelliousness in her face. The Sister's stern look analyzed her, and she understood what actually happened at once.

"You mean it, you really wish to help there," the woman confirmed.

"Sister, I was there yesterday, and Alessio seems to help there," Shaina said.

"He is an exception," said the Sister, her tired tone a sign that she was unhappy with the boy's involvement. "The church is where the souls of the living go to heal. The cemetery is rather where the souls of the dead go to rest." She stepped hither before continuing, voice lowered. "I see why a girl like you would be drawn to it, but have faith when I say there is nothing worth your while in a cemetery."

"Alessio's there," the girl countered, "he's my friend."

With this the nun looked back to her colleague, who shook the head in a display of hopelessness. No less, she was kind, saying: "I shall speak to the priest in this regard, but in the meantime, help them in the kitchen, will you?" Once the child nodded, some relief washed over them. "You will be of great aid, Shaina."

As the adults walked off, the girl's eyes instinctively scanned for her new friend, though she did not find him anywhere. The Sister occupied herself with a youth her age, one which tried to slip out to the front yard.

"Young Vince, I see you sneaking away!" the woman yelled, so the boy looked back with stupor. The children ragged on him throughout the scene. "You have not showered in two weeks!"

"B-but I showered, Sister, I swear!" he babbled, thus the nuns pulled him by the shirt to the front of the boy's line.

Shaina's day went on, from breakfast, to school, to lunch, and then to the cafeteria near the church, where the soup line was held. The nuns, volunteers, and orphans prayed, dressed in aprons, gloves, and hats. That done, a nun unlocked the front door, whence a group of carers brought in elderly from the rest home.

It was to them and the disabled whom Shaina served soup at first, and later to those other in need. An hour or so later, the soup line was coming to an end, so she helped wash some of the dishes, giving back her worn apron once completed.

Upon the dismissal, the kid ran outside to the others who played about the church, yet, like last time, she evaded the nuns in order to enter the cemetery. The air was tepid, and the sky was a pallid blue, quite clear of clouds; the darker afternoon might've made the cemetery dreary, she thought.

Before going in this once, Shaina consciously quit sprinting, reminded of what the Sister told of those resting souls. She wished not to bother them, so she wandered more respectfully this time, straight to where she had last seen Alessio and the sexton. Neither one nor the other did she find.

She assumed they were doing work elsewhere, therefore she walked the place's many wards and blocks, always scouting from between tombstones. Silent as she was, she heard the sound of a tool, then noticed two individuals moving from the corners. They would not find her as long as she hid.

Tracking corridors, soon she reached one connected to theirs, divided only by tombs. It was the sexton who dug a patch of dirt made atop a burial site, for it had been left in disrepair over the years, and its owner desired a small garden to decorate it. Dead leaves and roots were pulled out, thrown into a large basket, and the dirt was repurposed.

For a while, as she passed closer, she saw that Alessio had a book in hand. Whether it was the same from last night, she couldn't tell, though their talks were something she overheard in passing.

"… isn't done anymore? I've never seen anyone but us making them," the boy said.

"No more common… than mummies," the elder spoke. His voice was ragged, broken, weak, oft forcing words out the throat. Despite sounding so fatigued, he labored with puerile volition. "No more than… harvesting a dead man's heart from his chest."

Alessio took a second and commented: "I like it."

"Of course you would, but people, they… they think this sort of tradition to be unpalatable," the sexton said. He stopped the work momentarily and pointed these dirty nails to tombs behind them, fingers trembling. "Actually, some of those tombs, they are old… old enough, and the effigies you see on them, these faces were built of such masks, yeah? Corpses made of stone, they are. If some knew this, they'd find it… drab, eerie… unacceptable."

"How would you feel if they made one of you, sir?" the boy asked.

"A replica of my dead face?"

"Yes."

"Grateful," the sexton replied and returned to his duties.

"Then it doesn't sound too bad."

"Funereal traditions of today serve… more the living, less those who passed," the elder said. "You cannot blame them, yeah? This is where a corpse sleeps for eternity. You don't need to bother with what the dead leave, you… weep and walk away." In that moment he pulled the roots of a bush and awkwardly laid it in the basket. "It's up to us to… to respect their remains. That corpse, they never wish to see it again. It withers down to cartilage, bone… break, disintegrate, till irredeemable. It's easier to look at it then, but if you come to a tomb and see that face… that face as it was upon death, you're left dumbfounded. People's grief need be as safe, calm, and comfortable as it can." He briefly raised an index to Alessio. "Comfortable, not just comforting. Yeah, they'll do away with funerals altogether soon enough, I bet."

"I think that's a bad idea," the boy said.

So the old man offered another opinion: "The road to modernity is… paved with an abundance of great choices, and a handful of atrocious ones."

After a long pause, Shaina's soft steps went around the ward, being too far to hear them any longer. Turning the opposite side, she was now in full view, thus the sexton commented something to the boy. Alessio replied, shut the book, and went in her direction.

"We're busy cleaning the tombs," he told her.

"Can I help?" the girl asked.

Alessio turned the head partially, then looked back to her. "I've spoken to him. He said you can be in the cemetery, but if you bother him, he'll tell the nuns," he said.

"I spoke to the nuns, a Sister will talk to the priest about me helping here too," Shaina spoke in a bit of a hurry, as if this would somehow allow her to participate in whatever they did.

There was no means, though. "We'll see about that," Alessio spoke, "but you can't stay with us until then." Shaina breathed deeply, groaning out of frustration, so he finished: "I'm sorry. I tried."

"Alright. I guess I'll see you later," the dejected girl made her leave.

The boy returned to the sexton, thus leaving the book aside in order to actively help with the clean-up. This day was to go as usual, nonetheless, change encroached both, in particular the sexton's apprentice. Its catalyst lied beyond the border, back in Italy still.

A pink camper rode down a high road towards Switzerland, not having to deal with much traffic at that hour, when dusk was about to drop. It was a Mediterranean, moustached man who drove, dressed in proper attire, that being a dress shirt and black pants. On the passenger seat was Aleka herself, a decade younger, minus the signs of aging; she had a pale headscarf covering hair, neck, and nape, loose at the bottom yet tight at the head.

On the seats behind them were two young women, both similarly adorned, with leaf-like embroideries, intricate prints, white and blue the most present colors. One fair-skinned, brown-eyed, full-lipped girl wore a looser shawl tied to the chin to cover hair and neck, then flaring to the sides as to cover the shoulders also; the other girl, of light rosy skin and blue eyes, wore a multi-layered scarf.

These two were rather lively, a contrast with Aleka's mature, serious demeanor. While they chatted about the road trip, the High Priestess admired the road, fields, and forests. As soon as they drove by a sign to a rest stop, she looked to the driver and said: "Let us park by the next one."

"Of course, High Priestess," the man replied.

The youth in the shawl leaned to the front seats. "Are we stopping already?" she joyously asked.

"Aye, it is getting too dark, and I am hungry," Aleka said.

That cultist giggled in response. "Oh, me too!" she told. "Imagine what kind of road food the Italians have!" Aleka looked aside in visible annoyance, but the girl did not yield, addressing the driver next. "Say, Mister Montani, will they have pizza there?"

"We get pizza everywhere here, ma'am," he answered, audibly more patient than the passenger.

"Is that so?" she rhetorically asked and turned to her friend, who eyed her smile with a frown. "You hear that?"

The other girl spoke up: "There's pizza all over the globe, Thalia, especially here!"

"I didn't know that!" the girl said with a gasp, and Aleka couldn't help but shut the eyes. "I'll have road pizza for the first time, and in Italy of all places!"

"As if this were a holiday…" the High Priestess grumbled.

The driver chuckled, talking in higher spirits: "They're young, Lady Aleka, so this is a fun new experience. Surely they're not to blame."

Aleka simply nodded and stared off, seeing the sun crawl towards the horizon. Soon enough they came by a gas station, therefore the camper was parked in a lot, beside it a long, single-floor rest stop. Beyond a fence were a handful of mid-sized trucks, while outside they shared space only with a few vehicles.

The women alighted the van, and the driver stayed behind, saying: "I'll be here, ladies." Understanding amid laughter, the younger cultists went towards the building's large entrance; Aleka was ahead of them, and before going in, she paused to sense two Cosmos nearing from a distance. This she took as a sign of safety.

Inside, the younger cultists gasped at the variety of the rest stop. Many tables of baked goods, snacks, fridges with drinks, ice cream, a handful of restaurants, and a small clothing store to the side. Since most food was expected to be taken on trips, few tables and chairs were placed on the checkered flooring, generally by the side walls.

"They really have everything in here! Such a large store in the middle of the road!" Thalia remarked.

"In the middle of the 'autostrada'," her friend spoke with an accent, and thus both laughed.

"Look, there's even a clothes store!" the first said as she pointed to it, and instinctively they looked to the High Priestess for permission.

"Lady Aleka, may we see the clothes?"

Looking at those excited expressions, Aleka tilted the head, then sighed in defeat. "Just do not promise to buy anything," she said.

"Relax! We're just going to check them out."

"I will try and make a call over there," Aleka told them, so the girls nodded.

"Ah, got it! We'll see you in a bit then."

The girls went their way, whereas the High Priestess left towards a wall in one of the extremes, beneath a long window. Three public phones were there, yellowish gray boxes with handsets on the side, rotary dials on the face near the top, and a square hole where money could be slipped in. She took some coin from a pocket in her dress, put it through the gap in the metal plate, and began to rotate the controls on one of the machines.

Eventually, once said call had been made and connected, she reached a phone up north, left lying on a plastic desk of a somewhat dark office. Hanging from the corner were pairs of wax masks, roughly made, bearing the semblances of elderly folk, face marks and all. Once the phone rang, the unmistakable voice of the sexton yelped and groaned, so he went to it.

After several seconds, he took the call: "Hello."

"This is Aleka," she promptly informed him.

"Hm…" the old man pended to speak sometime "… is the operator on the line?"

The High Priestess merely ignored his concern, leaving him on edge. "We are still in Italy," she said. "I figure we might arrive tomorrow or the day after."

"Not sure the boy expects it to be… this soon," he lazily said back.

"Let it be a surprise."

"That's how you always go about this, you…" he thought with a characteristic snark "… Athenian charmers. Showing up early out of the blue, little time for a kid to process the news."

"How about I send a visitor at once?" Aleka spoke over him, seemingly impatient with how long the call would take with his rambling.

Again the sexton groaned. "Eh, might as well, yeah? I kept things clean."

"Good. He will see you before long," the woman concluded.

"Sure, sure." Without saying goodbye, both hanged up.

Upon returning to those she watched over, the girls were caught surrounded by racks and baskets of clothes, putting wide sun hats over their veils, or an assortment of large sunglasses and bracelets. Absent a mirror, they kept asking each other what they looked like in a rather juvenile delight. Aleka inevitably shook her head in disapproval, but there was no denying the others enjoyed themselves quite a bit.

"Can you believe they have such fancy things in a rest stop like this, Lady Aleka?" Thalia asked.

The other girl posed, pulling the side of her headscarf over the mouth and nose. "I'm like a princess on a yacht to Thailand," she joked.

As Aleka entered the place, she briefly studied a row of long dresses, albeit without the intent of purchasing. She heard that and said: "A princess on a dory to Atlantis, if anything."

Thalia chuckled, yet the other felt somewhat offended, staring at her with mouth wide. "High Priestess! Why?"

"You are done playing. I have to speak to the Saints, so you two go procure us some food," the High Priestess dutifully said, then she abandoned the elegant clothes and pulled the tiny purse of coins from her dress, whence she had taken the money prior. She was about to hand it to both, and pulled back with how ravenously they oggled. "Only slices of pizza, not the whole pizza, got it? For the rest of us, buy the cheapest panino in the menu."

The cultists took off the accessories after grabbing the small purse. "Alright, we'll go get it," Thalia assured her.

Aleka left back outside, whereas the girls went to the counter of a restaurant. Outside, the evening might as well have come; in such darkness, a subtle aura was visible emanating from the woman's right hand. She walked in this state, opposite the road, behind the building, and near a back door. It was there she stopped, right by a group of trash bins.

Hidden from prying eyes, the aura disappeared, and two armored men landed in front of her. Both were familiar; the one in the forefront was a black-haired, Swiss man in a stained Cloth of silver, and he was Orion Jaeger, whom Shaina would execute in a rage over a decade later; the one in the back was a muscular man in a brighter Cloth, and later he would've accumulated many a scar, though at the time he had few, and he was Whale Moses, to be the first slain by Athena in that century.

"High Priestess?" Jaeger spoke in service.

"You will go and meet the Aspirant in the cemetery," she promptly talked, since overstaying would've risked them being seen. "Tell him we want things to go smoothly. Whale will stay on us."

"Should I move immediately?"

"Stay awhile. The girls are buying food," she said.

"Lady Aleka, there was no reason to. Hunger does not bother us," Moses said.

"We can certainly deal with it," Jaeger agreed.

Aleka refused this, saying: "No, have a meal before you leave, though leave as soon as you are done." Orion nodded, thus the two warriors vanished as quickly as they appeared, hiding somewhere in the plains.

Not much later, after being offered food, Orion did overtake the rest and traveled directly to the facilities. The evening had surely fallen, and it took him hours to get there, though there had been something at the church that left its grounds full before the night. The nuns and assistants prepared works in the nearby facilities, and the children had been freed before they had to return to the orphanage.

Shaina ran towards the cemetery, not minding the darkness one bit. Like prior, she slowed down near its entrance. Precarious lights had been placed on the outer walls, occasionally on the corners of wards, shut behind glass and metal grills. Though this made the paths more visible, it only reinforced an eeriness of the zone at night.

There was no finding Alessio and the sexton at the reception building, but she assumed the boy wasn't anywhere if not the graveyard, since he hadn't been seen at church. In truth, the two were deep into clean-up. Despite the scarce lighting, the old man used a hose to wash off muck accumulated on the top and corners of a tomb, while the boy wiped it thoroughly with a flannel, rubbing it off the smallest depressions.

Alessio sighed and took a step back, seeing the peeled off dirt be splashed aground. A slight pressure in his head bothered him, so he held his hair with the hand wet. "It feels like I'm fixing up for a headache," he commented.

The sexton grunted in acknowledgment, then both returned to their responsibility. They hadn't yet noticed Shaina's stealthy straying, how she spied from the corners not to be caught by anyone. The sound of the hose was a distant echo, just its general direction was undeniable. Her hazel eyes cut along a ward, not seeing signs of anyone, then suddenly a disembodied shadow raced by, cast on the tombstones. There was a strange shine, and she looked around as if she had been caught. No one was near her.

That same pressure pierced Alessio's head now, impossible to soldier through. The visiting shadow cast over them, then along the tiles under their shoes. Surprised, the kid almost fell back, whereas the sexton eyed him, holding the hose to the side. Even on that severally aged, bearded face — even in the grayness of night, pity was distinguishable in his expression. Only so much could be done by a fellow so old to demonstrate emotion, yet they were undeniable.

"Is it… already my time?" the boy quietly asked. No answer would've been worth it; that stare was the beginning of a long goodbye. The elder simply turned back to his work.

Orion's boots touched the ground, and he casually strolled to Cancer's Aspirant. Alessio finally looked at him, not seeing that which he expected. He found the imposing sight of a Saint quite wondrous.

"You must be the aspiring Cancer Saint," Jaeger said.

"And you must've been sent to take me," said Alessio.

The Silver Saint went around him, seeing that he wasn't as young as one would expect for his role. "Don't precipitate yourself," he said. "You felt my arrival, so you're already acquainted with Cosmos."

"He taught me," the boy told, signaling to the busy sexton.

"Incredible," said Jaeger, so he stopped walking right in front of the kid. "Well met then. The High Priestess should come in the next days. She will be the one to take you in adoption." The man stepped away, readying to leap off the premises before they were seen. "She wishes for everything to go smoothly, so stay sharp."

Once Orion departed with a blow, he left a small shock wave behind, messing the kid's dark hair. However, a thing had slipped past their senses. Not only Alessio witnessed these occurrences with awe, but so did Shaina, hidden in plain shadows, eyes wide and face pale. Now she understood the boy's secret was greater than some mere magic trick.

Later on, the priestesses' trip continued in the camper. The morning had started to rise while they were on the road, and the youngest women slept under blankets in the back. The High Priestess was already well awake in the passenger seat, as was the driver, so they admired the hazy, painterly view of dawn.

Thalia was the first of the two to wake up behind, high-energy as she was. She yawned, stretched the arms, and pushed her blanket to the middle of the seat. No matter how tired her voice was this early, it was still loud and stark. "Are we in Switzerland yet?" she questioned.

"Definitely here," said the driver.

"They didn't even check us." The young priestess lifted a hand and tapped the knee of her sleeping friend, on the other side of the vehicle. Provided insistence, the girl opened the eyes, looked at Thalia's face, then lied the head back with an annoyed puff. "Ah, yeah, you're grumpy in the morning!"

"The sun's barely out," the youth remarked.

Thalia pulled one of the window's curtains, finding the earliest sign of sunrise. "It's starting to come up though," she said.

"I want to sleep more," the other complained.

"Hey… hey," Thalia kept whispering and touching the girl's knee. When it had been enough, she received another annoyed stare.

"What?" the girl asked.

"Are you still mad about the pizza thing?"

"I am, but I want to sleep now."

"Let her rest, Thalia," the High Priestess intervened.

So she did, not daring question her superior's orders. Nonetheless, there was no demand to not bother anyone else, so she accosted the front seats, saying: "Sorry that we bought bad pizzas with the money you gave, Lady Aleka."

"What matters is that you ate it all and did not waste a crumb," Aleka said.

Thalia sat back, a grimace and pout at the very memory of being forced to eat something so boring. "I mean, I would've expected Italian pizza to have more cheese than that! The slices were paper thin too!" she went on talking.

"It could have been an inept cook," argued Aleka.

"The pizza back in Sanctuary is always nice and fat, with lots of cheese!" the girl had to chat in lieu of falling asleep. "Funny, isn't it? With how isolated we are, I'd expect our food to be backwards in comparison. Have you ever eaten the pizza they make just outside the headquarters, Lady Aleka?"

The High Priestess gave in and indulged her. "No, I haven't," she answered.

"No way! You've got to try it, it's magnific! They have this one — not my favorite — but it has spiced cheese…"

The driver grinned when Aleka hanged her head aside in impatience, but they endured Thalia's chatter, inoffensive as it was. That trip endured for a long while, but they easily reached L'Opera thanks to the Saints' directions. In the town it occupied, the institution's facilities were no trouble to find, with its sprawling buildings, the vast cemetery, and the tall, odd church.

As per its prominence, they soon drove to it, then parked the vehicle by the orphanage's sidewalk. It was already in the middle of the afternoon, streets empty, since it was school hours. Under a blue sky and scorching sun, the group exited the camper.

In wake of their arrival, orphans were busy with their respective classes, as was the case of Shaina. Her classroom was small, much like the number of students alongside her, some being her roommates. With the strong sun in peak afternoon, it was a wall fan which kept those therein cool, though the blinds could only filter so much light. Most of the things were of wood: the old desks and chairs, the blackboard, the square flooring, etc.

The kids had their books on the tables, albeit they made no notes yet, since they were focused on the teacher — one of the few not to be a nun — who displayed a lesson on arithmetic. In a brief moment of distraction, Shaina's eyes diverted to the entrance door. A small glass window had been installed in its upper section, and past it she saw the sign of Aleka in the company of a nun.

"Hm?" The girl's attention was entirely removed from class, seeing this was no familiar face. No matter, the Sister opened the door and whispered to the teacher, who halted her lecture at once.

Who entered next were the High Priestess and the driver, arms entwined like a couple, and a couple they seemed to be; the younger cultists spied from behind the door, and posed as the daughters. Dressed as those strangers were, the children thought of them as a rather orthodox family, and it seemed the nuns felt similarly.

"Kids, these are Mr. and Mrs. Giammarino," the Sister announced in front of them. "They are a fine family from Italy, here to see the facilities of L'Opera. Say good morning."

The two waved their hands, and the students raised an unsteady chorus of "good morning". With that they nodded to the teacher, then whispered more to the nun.

Amid smiles, Aleka and the driver looked at the children a second, so the latter spoke up: "Thank you. It's beautiful the school you have here, and the children too."

"You flatter us," the nun said. They exchanged thankful bows to the children and the teacher, then made their leave, shutting the door behind.

After only a few seconds, the teacher was able to retake where they last left off, yet Shaina couldn't concentrate any further. The girl sitting by her right, with whom she shared quarters, felt similarly.

"Probably some do-good family come to adopt someone," the girl murmured to her. Shaina raised her eyebrows, but stayed quiet. "Usually it's a baby they want, but they like to see all of us, look for a spark."

Therewith they quit their parallel conversations, to not be reprimanded by the teacher. Still, eyes escaping to the door's glass panel, she saw them go to the next classroom. It couldn't be a mere coincidence that the first adoption she'd witness would come so soon after that strange event, the supernatural visit Alessio received in the cemetery.

Obviously, it was his classroom they eventually perused, and such would be the last one, in account of Aleka's acting. Those older children chanted good morning as well after being presented to the newcomers, interrupting history class instead. Only Alessio did not open his mouth, eyeing the High Priestess with a most deadpan expression.

While the driver performed his act, she scanned the place for the description she had been given, and without a doubt, that sure stare of the boy she did meet. A cold chill ran down Alessio's spine — he knew what he had himself raised for, but still felt as if he were to be snatched away. After a second, the boy's eyes found refuge in the book below.

"He is just as our son appeared to me," Aleka whispered to the driver, loud enough that the nun heard her.

"Is he, my dear?" the driver mechanically spoke.

"As if God had taken the semblance and made it manifest before me, a dream made flesh," she said.

Noting this, the nun stepped hither to ask: "Something the matter, Mrs. Giammarino?"

Aleka's lips hid behind her veil, speaking only for her to listen; as their exchange went, the Sister gazed at Alessio as well, and the children began to comment.

Things went on from this and, once talks had been finished, and the classes were over, the students were sent back to the children's home. By the time Shaina had arrived in the front yard, then past the front door, she observed that the place was less lively than usual. Most of the sound came from the kitchen, where an evening snack was in the works.

Orphans traded hushed comments, and, unlike their usual behavior, they were much more respectable. They sat well on the couches, chairs, and stools; they avoided lying on the floor; those playing outside did not scream as often. It was almost like entering the wrong house.

The roommate who commented to Shaina before walked in, backpack in hand. "Seems someone did get adopted after all," she said.

"How do you know?" Shaina asked.

"Everybody's acting too nice."

The girl had been absolutely correct. She left to reorganize her books, whereas Shaina took her own backpack upstairs, as she planned on storing it in her personal chest. The place was strangely empty, as if the children had been instructed to avoid it, and, walking by Alessio's bedroom, she heard the voices of adults echo.

Piqued, the young girl inclined the head in, seeing that he sat on his bed, belongings packed into a travel suitcase she didn't know he owned. The family before him were those supposed Giammarino and their supposed daughters. Forward as she was, she stepped in and looked, precisely to steal their attention.

Alessio was the first to notice her, thus the remainder of the folk looked back as well. "What do you want?" he rudely asked.

"Is she a friend of yours?" Aleka said as to caress any tension.

"Kind of."

Shaina fully entered the room, then sought confirmation: "Are you the one getting adopted?"

"I am," he responded after some slow seconds.

"That's sad."

"Sad?" Aleka spoke up with an eyebrow raised. "Are you not happy for your friend?"

"He's the only boy I tolerate," Shaina said, and all of the adults chuckled, simply interpreting that as the stereotypical actions of a little girl.

"It'll only get worse from here on out, darling," said Thalia, but Aleka touched her with the back of a hand, hinting that she stay quiet.

The High Priestess was more careful in her addressing of Shaina, a display of respect. "I apologize for stealing him from you so suddenly. What is your name?" she said.

"Shaina."

"You seem like a very forward girl, Shaina, a trait I admire. I will make sure to bring Alessio back from time to time so you can play."

"They said you're from Italy," the girl had not finished her probing.

"That we are."

"I'm from there. What place from Italy?" she questioned.

Everyone was temporarily silent, taken by surprise. The women eyed the driver, who replied: "We have a farm in Taranto."

But Shaina shook her head left and right. "Where do you guys really live?" she stressed.

A frightful spell twisted Aleka's face, for the girl's tone and expression were proof that she knew more than she should. When that stern gaze focused on Alessio, he looked back only from the edge of the eyes, fearful. The woman let go of the driver's arm, abandoning the ruse, and slowly made her way to Shaina.

With a graze of hand to shoulder, the youth knew she was to be led out, and she obeyed as to not infuriate someone so scary. In the empty bedroom next door, Aleka spoke to her in a corner. "I must be told what Alessio revealed to you," she said.

"Alessio said nothing," the child valiantly affirmed.

The cultist was visibly enraged then, though she controlled herself and the volume of her voice. With lips tightened from the effort, she said: "Listen, this is no roleplay, it involves innocent lives. Whatever Alessio revealed to you, it is vital that I hear it at once."

"He said nothing, I saw it myself!"

"Then what did you see, Shaina?" Aleka pressured her, but the girl pended a second to answer, prompting her to go further. "Say it!"

"I saw the guy in armor fly away," the girl began telling with haste in her voice, "and when Alessio tore a flower like magic, and the weird conversations he had with the graveyard man! You people aren't normal, I saw it!"

"Okay, not so loud…" Aleka more calmly said, staring out the door to ensure they weren't watched. She leaned down to be more at eye level with her. "What do you want from me?"

"Adopt me with Alessio, or I'll tell on you," said the girl.

The High Priestess eyed her without a sense of seriousness, denying that something so absurd could be taking place. "A child blackmailing me, how quaint!" she joked. The shocker to her was not only this leak potentially worsening, an affront to the law, but the fact that Shaina diligently kept said information to herself till then. "Are you absolutely certain of this? You are leaving your life behind over something you do not yet comprehend. You have no idea what you are about to get involved in."

"I don't care about my life," Shaina almost instantly responded, not a hint of doubt in her intonation. Hearing that come out of a little girl's lips, Aleka had no choice but to take her with all the gravity in the world. "Bring me along, or I'm telling."

The woman breathed lightly, under control at last. "I want to scream at you so bad, yet I cannot help but like you," she revealed, took a step back, got fully up, and hanged the head in capitulation. "This was your choice, Shaina. I will see about taking you with us."

So it had been decided, the cultists would return to Greece with two kids, the one long planned for the taking, and a girl too cunning and stubborn for her own good. Of course, nearly the whole orphanage had been made aware of Alessio's adoption, though Shaina's came as a late surprise. When word spread, there were a few in particular who questioned whether it came at a proper moment.

In particular, it was the nun who headed the children's home wishing to raise a protest. She knew not whom to address at that point, for the kids had emptied their chests, taken their things, and vanished somewhere with these Giammarino, so her last resort was rushing to the priest's office, the man with highest authority in the parish.

This place she did enter, and the priest was a man even older than her, though well aware, far from senile. At the time that she caught him, he apparently signed a series of documents pertaining to the adoption, no hurry in sight.

"Father, have you already started the process for the girl?" the nun questioned this right upon closing the door.

"For the little Shaina, yes?" the priest confirmed. "She should be safe to go as well. To think she would be taken so early, after everything she went through…"

"Alessio I understand," said the woman, "but I am against this girl leaving! She is not ready."

The priest's attention was reaped from his work, and he eyed the nun with surprise behind his round glasses. "Sister, is there something wrong?"

"Shaina just came to us with an atrocity on her shoulders, and has barely worked through any of it," she explained.

"Her past cannot chain her to us. This family is devout, Sister. Mrs. Giammarino — her last son was delivered stillborn, and Alessio is just as the boy appeared to her in a dream, grown and healthy. I believe the Lord fated them to travel this far after him," the man said. "Not just that, we did the calls, social services were very available today. Their farm house checks out, a fine home in Taranto. It doesn't seem to me that they would harm her."

"I have no doubts…" she reticently replied, then so soon corrected herself "… or rather, I do have some. Ever since Shaina mixed with the boy, she became equally macabre, gained an interest in the dead, and that sexton…"

"What are you saying?"

"I do not hurl such accusations lightly, though there is reason behind the speculation of him being a pagan," the nun said.

"Pagan! Listen to what you say!" the priest forced his voice to chastise her.

"Even ignoring that, the girl is lost, Father! I doubt she is ready to go. If this ends up badly, such rashness could ruin L'Opera," said the woman.

"You sound awfully sure of yourself…"

The old man's words were cut by the sound of the door opening again. Both turned back to see the entrants, that being the family from the camper, and the two new additions, both carrying their things in backpacks, suitcases, and briefcases. The priest censored himself, exchanging a careful stare to the nun.

"There they are!" he sang. "Mr. and Mrs. Giammarino, I hope everything went well."

"We are ready to leave back to Italy, Father," said the driver. "Is there anything left to sign?"

"Oh, no, everything important has been covered at this point," the other told, standing from his seat in respect. "We will call to give further instruction, and so will social services. Otherwise, all the remaining paperwork will be solved later."

The nun appeared troubled by the rushed method of the adoption, but refused to contradict the priest further. "May I speak with the kids one last time?" she asked him.

"Please, do so," he told, offering a tranquil sign of the head that she not overdo.

She came over to Alessio, only lowering herself slightly. "Goodbye, boy. Be kind to yourself and your new family," she told, and the boy responded with a bow of the head, thus she went over to the poor girl. For her she gave special attention, crouching and grabbing her shoulders protectively. A whisper came: "Are you certain of this?"

Their eyes met as to communicate what a day-long conversation would never transmit. Oh what securement the Sister found in this girl's eyes, the sharpened gaze of one who made a lone choice, one who carved her own path. "Yes, Sister," Shaina answered.

"You aren't afraid then," the woman dug in as a test.

"I chose this myself, I swear," the young girl sustained with a lower tone, almost like a secret code telling her that these people did not choose to take her. She gave them no option.

The Sister nodded. "Continue being brave, remember to pray before sleep, and…" she stopped to breathe deep "… God bless you, child."

Ultimately she stood and let the girl go, as much as it pained her and made her feel irresponsible. She turned to hide tears glistening, and the family approached the door to exit.

"Let us load their things into the van now," Aleka's driver said.

"Ah, yes. Return to me if you require anything else. Remember, you should get a call soon!" the priest told as they left.

Thereon the group returned to the camper. The children's things were loaded into the back seats, of which the vehicle had plenty of, and they sat a row behind that of the young cultists. Once ready, they drove off, initiating another long voyage.

They made several stops midway, albeit some more expensive than others, including stays in low-end inns, where they showered and ate proper meals. At first it would've appeared that they were going to Taranto, as the driver once said, for they moved southeast. Nonetheless, they went straight from a turn to it, on to a port city further east.

Outlining it, they exited to a rural area, and drove about a farm in the middle of the day. The van went off-road with some truculence, stopping by a set of trees near the coast of the Adriatic Sea. Up ahead was a small, clumsy pier, a tiny fishing boat attached. The folk were unloaded, cargo alike, and the cultists took them to a long bench built of chopped logs, hidden from direct sunlight.

Shaina stared back whence she was, noting they were visible to a group of people working the crops, yet they didn't appear suspicious of their presence. A strange, dark shape swerved in the sky, far into the distance, and though it could've been a bird, she wondered if it was like the armored man from before.

They waited there for hours, and the day even began to darken. Aleka was rather busy conversing with Alessio, while the other cultists chatted among themselves or the driver, oft eyeing the silent girl they had to bring along. They thought her cuter than scarier, though based on the High Priestess' explanation on her coming, she sooth was an artful trickster.

A medium-sized longliner approached landfall from afar. It was well-built, just not in the best condition, dirtied or rusted in some metal sections, with some equipment missing, stripped down, or invariably old. The closer it came to the pier, the easier it was to identify the crew; among them were three men operating the boat, and watching from the tip was another armored male.

The tan-skinned, Turkish Saint wore a Cloth of the palest silver, buffed to a near-mirror finish; trims, including details marked in the center of the breastplate, were made of bronze. Though the chest was not the bulkiest, the shoulder pads were layered and heavy, fastened together with a bronze stud, and plates bent in an arc about the arm. The gauntlets had moon-like protuberances originated from the back of the hands. The stomach was half exposed, a linen shirt beneath, though the faulds descended from a band of plates at the navel's height. Around his masculine face, brown eyes, and somewhat long, straight brown hair was a mask with lengthy blades from either end, protecting the cheeks as much as the upper head. With toned, slightly swollen arms, and the mean, frowned, thick eyebrows, the warrior looked fierce at first sight.

The fishermen tied the vessel to the pier, while this strong man ensured that the ship was in a safe position for the cultists to enter. After helping them get on board, the driver actually waved goodbye and returned to the van; he was Italian and lived in Italy, despite his connections to Sanctuary, so he went back home.

As they boarded the longliner, Shaina and Alessio wondered if it would be a safe trip after all. The inside had many a puddle of water, creaking now and then whenever weight was put upon it. Waving back and forth with the sea made for an unsteady, floating sensation, one the kids did not cherish. A heavy stench of fish assaulted their nostrils, though they couldn't see any just yet.

Taken inside, the cabin had a tiny kitchen with a fridge, two small tables, benches, and a door to the accommodations. However, there was space for naught beside two bunks: one of three beds, and one of two, gaps left beneath for storing goods. Clearly this was not enough for all of the folk on the boat.

Worse, more people loaded the vessel, that being Orion and Whale, who leapt hither after its arrival. They were met by the Silver Saint from before, and greeted him as a friend.

"Afternoon, Karim," Jaeger said.

"Afternoon, brothers!" the man responded as he shook their hands, and the joy in his manly tone was uncharacteristic of such a fearsome look. "No problems on the trip?"

"No. Felt like a stroll," the other told.

"Exactly as we expected," Moses said. "But the priestesses did come back with double the kids."

Karim looked back and nodded; Alessio had come back to the High Priestess after storing his things, whereas Shaina looked more lost, snooping from within the cabin. "I noticed that," the Saint said. "What's the catch?"

"Lady Aleka vouched for her, claimed she's worth it," Jaeger whispered with a smirk. "Probably a new pet novice."

"Good for them, right? Outsiders seem to do great in the Cult."

"Of course." The men went quiet and walked into the ship once Aleka came over. "High Priestess, we're ready to move."

"Crater, where had you boys gone?" she asked the ship's Saint.

"Well, this is still their trade, so we went deeper into sea to fish," the man revealed, waving a hand to the busy civilians. "Today we stayed a bit later than expected, hence the delay. I take the blame for it."

"Not that it matters. The sun was scorching, but it was sweet watching the water from the land," she said. "Hopefully it makes up for a day and night on this rusty trap."

Karim laughed aloud at that, and the crew untied the boat from the pier, while a man reignited the engine. "She's rusty, but trusty," he said, and a crew member spoke up in agreement. "Cannot be much worse than sleeping in that van."

"It was quite cozy, if I may say so myself. Had curtains and everything," Aleka said as the ship was set to leave back towards the Greek coast.

The trip would've been a twenty-hour one, more or less, something the women had already experienced before. Of course, with two maidens who dreamed of boat trips to picturesque countries, such travels were the closest they'd ever get to it. Better yet, the sea wasn't too treacherous, despite being a new experience for the kids.

As night came, the surroundings of the vessel were too dark to see. The captain traversed with aid of instruments, if not the oversight of the Saints, who used Cosmos to light the area. Sleeping in the bunks was rotated between the cultists, the crew, and the children, whereas the Saints chose to sleep anywhere else.

When it was her time to rest, Shaina awoke in the middle of the night with a terrible nausea. Thalia took her to puke into the water, under the starry sky, and this the girl did without issue. Therewith she stayed seasick for most of the trip, meaning sleep was more difficult than prior.

The next morning came, and they had sighted some Albanian and Greek shores throughout, like lines mirrored by waves. Stomach unwelcoming in such a state, Shaina only ate a bit of the leftovers prepared by the fishermen, and stayed hungry the remainder of the journey. It was when dawn broke that she sat near the younger cultists, watching the adults go about their day.

Alessio was busy with the High Priestess the whole time; he was by the edge of the ship then, hearing her ramble over the book he frequently read. From the perspective of an orphan like her, the boy seemed much more prepared for this rough foray they undertook. It became more obvious thus that he had been long arranged for recruitment.

Her sickly eyes looked to the three Saints, who sat with their backs portside. They chatted too, occasionally skimming the surroundings in alert, therewith the child decided to get off the bench where she sat, and walk out the cabin towards them.

"Are you going to puke again, Shaina?" Thalia called her, pausing the conversation she had with the colleague.

Shaina simply turned and shook the head, quiet otherwise. After evaluating awhile, the cultists got up and went after her, though they kept their distance upon noticing she went to the Saints.

Karim tapped Moses when he saw the girl coming, and the three men stopped to smile at her. "Ma'am, hope you're feeling better," Moses said.

Shaina stopped beside them, embracing her own dress awkwardly. "What…" this word was uttered like a scratch, so quiet that the sea's sound overtook it, so she impelled the throat "… what are you?"

Whale turned confusedly to his colleagues, who chuckled in amusement. "We are Saints," Karim responded. "And what are you?"

"I'm… Shaina," she said.

"Interesting name. I'm Crater Karim," he presented himself.

Then the next: "I am Whale Moses, nice to meet you."

"I'm Orion Jaeger."

"You're Saints… like from the church?" Shaina asked further.

The three shook their heads almost immediately. "No, not the church. Sanctuary," Jaeger cleared the mix-up.

"Is Alessio one of you?"

"The boy?" Orion preemptively asked, so Shaina nodded. "He will be eventually."

"How do you…" Shaina was interrupted by Thalia, who landed hands on her shoulders. The girl looked up as if thwarted.

"Shaina, come, the men are resting now," she said.

"No, no, we're fine! We don't mind a little chat," said Crater, looking back and forth to his friends for confirmation, which they quickly gave.

"She's been very sick since she got on the boat," Thalia clarified. "I'm afraid that if she stands here too long, she might puke again."

"But I'm okay," the girl bemoaned.

"You're not, you look so pale, and…" the young woman sighed. "Take a rest until we land on Greece, then you'll have plenty of time to ask them your questions."

Shaina lowered the head, thought a moment, and spoke a feeble "okay".

With this she was escorted back into the cabin, and the Saints waved to her, somewhat bothered by the intervention. Nonetheless, seasick as was the child, it was best to keep her well for a gentler trip on land.

The rest of the way was similar, until things were dark again, and they had reached another unsteady pier on the Peloponnese's northwest. The captain had to expend an extra amount of fuel to maneuver out the usual current, but seeing that there was another farm — even larger than the last — nearby, replenishing would come easy.

A sense of relief came over Shaina when she was off the boat, and being on steady land healed her nausea almost at once. The cultists instructed that they take their things into the farm house, where a small Greek family made individual beds available to them. The Saints scattered, promising to meet them by the hills. In the other hand, the fishermen went elsewhere, having unloaded fish into a truck, likely to sell it at the marketplace in the city up north.

Next morning, it was to this same city the children and women went to, a somewhat extensive walk under the warm sun. They were accompanied by three folk that had also visited the farm, and seemed to go the same destination. There they paid for tickets and, without many questions, boarded a rugged inter-city bus. It was in this they traveled multiple towns.

Whenever they were at the end of a given route, they boarded a different bus and proceeded. They made several kilometers by foot from time to time, either to find a cheap inn, or to stay at a house of associates, frequently sleeping in conditions unideal. Shaina could finally eat again, and her cheeks regained a healthy complexion.

By the day they reached Athens, the caravan had grown to about a dozen people, all adults, with the exception of the two children. No matter who these people were, they all recognized the cultists as holy women, and treated Aleka with utmost reverence.

Their last stop on a vehicle was near an acropolis in the outskirts. Tour buses transited in the region, though the High Priestess made it clear they would only use their legs from there. They crossed sidewalks, tiled paths, and followed the line of tall fences. Where they were, it was already possible to see the slopes, mounds, ruined temples, homes, and more on the other side.

Shaina studied these with wonder, though Alessio expected no less. When the group reached a security cabin and a gate, it was Aleka who entered to speak to the guards. Apparently only a brief sequence of words was necessary to allow everyone passage. One man in office attire came outside to check on the incoming folk, while another watched from the hut's window.

The High Priestess stayed by his side, carefully pointing at and vowing for every individual that passed, including the kids. She told him where they had met, and how they knew them to be in cahoots of sorts. With this, the caravan entered the premises and went on their hike.

In the most intense section of the trip so far, they marched up and down an unending series of depressions and elevations, ever directed at a mountain range in the distance. No tourists were sighted on the way, and the acropoli were shown to be many, spaced out by patches of trees. They walked several kilometers to their next goal.

A larger gathering of mostly Greek travelers was found standing near the pass under a bridge of stone, from a place where any proper road ended, and instead only a flimsy path was presented up the range above. A lone wooden post had been placed by the roadside, and around it was tied some bright red fabric, a sign of danger. Once this came into view, Aleka removed her headscarf, which prompted the two cultists to remove their head coverings too; Thalia revealed a long, wavy brown hair in a bun; the other revealed herself to be a brunette.

The flora was mostly this Mediterranean shrubland, but in the distance they saw that the low vegetation and rocky hills became fertile, so it was covered in greener patches of bushes, except for an abundance of tall trees. Regardless, the path never seemed any less perilous.

When they reached these people, the cultists were warmly welcomed, and the diverse talks gave a hint to Shaina of the kind of place she was about to go to.

"… thought it would've been easier to cross from Albania now, but it felt just as strict as last year," a young man said to another. Both of their companions carried goods, either in their oversized knapsacks, in suitcases, or in small wooden carts that they passed hand to hand.

"I take it should be a couple years before the new government lightens up the borders in the north," his friend said.

"I doubt it. It's not only up to them."

Deeper into the fray, another conversation caught the girl's attention, between an older merchant and a group of laborers. "Selling it out here, you run a great risk, it is best to open a company," he said, "but then you have to abide by licensing, taxes... also, the accounting here is complicated."

"I heard they regulate the whole profession here," a youth remarked.

"Aye, they complicated things too much for us," said the tradesman. "Producing here and selling in Sanctuary is the way to go. You will see, when you sell in there, the return is always greater. This is in part due to the lower taxes too."

"I'm not sure about that."

"It is! The conversion obscures the gains, but I can assure you, it is better business!"

When the High Priestess reached the edge of the pack, she met with an older man fronting that larger caravan, and, like the others, he bowed the head. "High Priestess Aleka, Orion told us to await your arrival," the elder said.

"I am thankful for your patience. It appears Crater left us a warning," Aleka commented on the red fabric tied to the post.

The leader nodded, and said: "The soldiers had trouble cleaning the paths of fallen trees, and we have spotted landslides from down here. We should move more carefully than usual."

"That we will," the woman said. "Let us go then. There are no reports of other caravans behind us, and the people have waited enough."

"Understood. We're moving!" the man exclaimed to the others. A controlled commotion arose, with people undoing some of the small tents they prepared, if not putting food back into their bags. It was from that point that they journeyed into the steep mountains amid the acropoli.

It came as no surprise that, as soon as Aleka joined them, a handful of folk insisted on hassling her over selfish matters. "High Priestess, may I have a word?" was a common phrase Shaina overheard, and the woman's stern stare never once changed. She offered the folk no more kindness than she was tasked to, which meant sheltering the Cult from impious ambitions.

Going up, they saw why a warning had been left for that entrance; as the trees came into view, there were several blocking the way. Gales had been changing the terrain a lot, so men in the caravan pushed anything that they could out to a safer spot.

When they twisted up to a high spot on a hill, Shaina spied a line of stationary people far up in the mountains, at a height too off the trail to be considered secure. Like the Saints, these folk wore heavy armor, though theirs was lighter and less intricate; there were amazons among them, and the girl found their masks strange at first.

The proper route chosen by the leader had changed by virtue of a landslide. One of the major issues of that area was its ever shifting pathways, mapped out as frequently as possible by Sanctuary's military. Regardless, some occasions brought too many transformations of the soil to keep track of, as was the case then.

Having chosen an alternate route, the people were watched over by warriors on their way, and decided to set up camp earlier than was preferable. Far from trees, under a rockier portion of the range, they found safety, built their tents, lit fires, and prepared to stay the night over.

The cultists were given their own tents by civilians, yet Alessio and Aleka spent most of their time having talks over that book, isolated from the rest. With all that occurred, the folk assumed Alessio's importance, allowing him to receive guidance without too many disturbances.

At dusk, a team of soldiers and amazons came down to do a check-up of the civilians. A few of them stood or sat from above, so that no one would leave the band unaccounted for. Some three to five walked amid the people, looking into tents, and swiftly checking luggage wherever they went.

Occasionally they mentioned something to the civilians and merchants, then kept walking to study others. When an amazon passed by the tent where the priestesses rested with Shaina, the girl widened eyes at her, surprised by her appearance.

"Ladies," the warrior hailed the two young women, who nodded in respect.

"Is there a problem?" the other priestess asked.

The amazon's mask aimed at the little Shaina, who had the slightest furl to the brow. "The Aspirant is with the High Priestess, so who is this child?" she questioned.

Thalia softly pat the top of the girl's hair. "Ah, this is Shaina," she told, "and she's with us. A fruit of serendipity, I'd say."

"Got it," the woman said after a moment of silence. "Excuse the annoyance." With trust in them, she left the tent and checked the rest.

Shaina looked at Thalia for an instant, then crawled out to see what took place. A soldier had stopped by the caravan's leader near camp fire. It was possible to overhear their conversation, for it wasn't at all meant for privacy.

"We've pushed off the dead trees, though there's no telling what those after us might encounter," the old man said.

"Sir, it's all in vain. Clean a trail, and the next hour or so, wind brings hell down on it," said the soldier. "We're just happy no tree fell on you heads."

"By our Lady's grace," the leader commented. "So, we've set up here early, as you've seen. There's no passage through the usual line, the land has rolled onto itself. There's this steep mound blocking the path."

"No way to push a mountain," the soldier spoke with a chuckle, then he turned and pointed back with the index. "Listen closely, sir, you'll go back down the trail, and there's a faint path around it — hard to find and a longer walk, but last we saw it was totally doable. You should find it…"

In that moment, Thalia's head also peeked out of the tent, stealing the girl's attention. "Are you regretting it yet?" the cultist asked. Shaina stepped back and looked at the two inside, somewhat bemused; no response came at first. "So… are you?"

"Regretting what?" the girl finally said.

"Choosing to come with us instead of staying in Switzerland."

Shaina watched them a bit more, thinking of her predicament. There were smiles, one especially goofy in Thalia's face, that hinted at them not being overtly serious, though the child's answer was proper: "Not really."

"That's great!"

The quiet came back, till it felt ungainly to no longer speak. Admiring the arrangement in the tent, the usual questions came to her. "Is this all you do?" Shaina inquired next.

Thalia tilted the head and motioned with her hands, confirming: "This as in, traveling…?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, we wish!" the other cultist exclaimed abruptly.

"We're traveling to a place called Sanctuary," Thalia told her, again that name, the place the Saints called home. "It's hard to explain. You'll get it when we're there."

Shaina turned after another nod, then stared out the tent to the doings of Aleka and Alessio. He, too, would be one with those Saints. Surely he would be capable of the power Jaeger, Moses, and Karim had exhibited, or so she thought. In fact, she never forgot that he displayed some power himself, undoing that strawflower as he did. The boy was already underway to Sainthood.

But what the High Priestess did then was different. Book laid on the suitcase, she spawned a dim deep-red aura on the skin of a hand, and elegantly moved the fingers to manipulate its smoke-like form. The boy observed with some awe, as if a secret of the universe were unveiled before him.

Evening and night were afoot, then the folk slept overseen by Sanctuary's scouts. Dawn broke, therefore the caravan packed their things to follow the trail suggested by the army. It took effort to identify this parallel route, yet soon they traversed it, and it took them to areas of the mountains formerly unknown.

Though the sections they cut were rockier, their fear was more in line with how steep the slopes seemed. The cultists struggled, and men slowed down whenever they had to carry a cart up a sudden depression. Shaina had grown accustomed to holding the women's hands, since they feared her rolling down a place so tall.

It was easier from where they were to spot scouts wandering afar. Rising above that estranged sensation from prior, the little girl mostly eyed the amazons with admiration now. To her, they appeared strong, mysterious, and efficient, all traits she unconsciously aspired to.

A soldier posted in a lower altitude whistled and waved an arm a given direction. The travelers looked to him, so he shouted: "Through here! Crater said this section is free!"

"Thank you!" a man said back, so they turned there, closer to the center of the range.

Thalia, with her watchful eye over Shaina, had seen her head constantly turning to peek the lookouts. This obviously wasn't unheard of from a kid, yet she treated it as a sign of boredom. As a result, she nudged the girl's shoulder, capturing her gaze.

"Hey, Shaina, you're going to work with us when you're in Sanctuary," she remarked excitedly.

The girl mumbled: "I don't know."

"You will!" Thalia countered. "You have nothing else to do there, and we can't just abandon you, so…"

"What do I have to do?"

"You'll be a novice. We both were novices once," she said, nodding to her friend, "it's pretty straightforward."

"Don't make it sound easy," said the other woman.

"But it is! You'll just have to study and carry baskets around whenever there's a festival, it's child's play."

Shaina breathed out, pensive. "That sounds boring," she said.

"Eh, it gets better when you turn into an acolyte," Thalia told her.

"What does an acolyte do?"

The cultist eyed her friend with a squint, saying: "Kind of… kind of the same, actually."

"Acolytes clean the halls too, and do some paperwork," the colleague rectified.

"And you get to wander the city by yourself, which is cool."

"That sounds boring too," said the jaded little girl.

"See? Told you you'd regret this!" Thalia exclaimed with raised eyebrows.

However, Shaina stared back up to the amazons sitting or crouching on the mountains, caring for them as they passed. As if determined to stop the girl's distractions, Thalia leaned in, but the child gave a signal of the head.

"I want to be like them," she told.

"Huh?" Thalia looked up at the military people. "The soldiers?"

"The amazons," said the other cultist, her tone rather cynical.

"Ah, right, the amazons," Thalia realized. "Their job is dangerous. You should stay with us."

Shaina's interest did not wane, and she asked: "What do they do?"

"They fight."

"Then I want to fight too."

Thalia pouted and shrugged at her friend, whose expression was in no way optimistic. "Suppose there's no stopping it," the former said.

"Lady Aleka won't like this one bit," said the latter.

Upon advancing the journey, they finally twisted around a peak of many shrubs, on a rather precipitous downhill, then entered a series of turns that were a troublesome pass. There, the mountains carried on tightening together, and cave entrances small and large popped up with frequency.

It was an unassuming cave which they entered, somewhat of a challenge initially. The leader had long debated with a trio whether this would take them to the system they desired, and they chose to risk it, after someone ran up ahead to confirm. People were more disciplined about moving in a single line while inside, since the space was limited, and even the ceiling lowered at random locations.

Shaina had a minor sense of claustrophobia there; the place was dark, dry, and felt as if it could sink unto them at any given moment. Eventually, when the cave spread much wider, it became nigh impossible to see whoever was ahead.

"Stay calm and follow me," Thalia whispered back to her, an arm stretched back so the girl could hold it. Provided that the human chain wasn't broken, no one in the caravan would wind up lost.

In the pitch-black therein, minutes of walking led them to colorful shines reflected off the rocks. Thanks to this, the coarse ground was easier to brave, and their destination was indisputable. The folk were meters away from entering Sanctuary.

Crossing another natural passage, narrow as it was, they were finally in a great chamber, rainbows brightening the width and height. A Doric portal stood proud in its midst, therein being that alien corridor, breathing with stars and nebulae. Though the lot were used to the sight, Shaina and Alessio weren't, so the fact such a thing was feasible wowed them.

People never stopped walking at a calm, continuous pace. Thalia ensured Shaina held her hand, then ordered: "Keep holding my hand and don't stop walking while we're in the gate, okay?"

"Okay," the mesmerized child responded. The other cultist caught her attention, taking her suitcase to the opposite side, then holding the girl's opposite hand.

"Here," she said, and so the three went in, able to go side-by-side in the space granted by the portal.

The view inside was shocking, a bizarre clash of colors that should not be. Shaina heard Alessio's gasp up ahead, enamored as he was with the galaxies. As per the cultists, the girl never slowed down, even when she felt the floor shift softly underneath.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Thalia asked, and voices there felt as if they couldn't find a surface from which to echo. "It's a pain that we can't stop and look."

"Over there, we're almost out," the second priestess refocused their attention to the exit, which grew from counterintuitively tiny; then to gargantuan, celestial proportions; and at last, it seemed the size of a typical gate, standing atop its usual platform.

Outside, they found themselves in the pavilion encircled by curtains. The women let go of Shaina's hands, brought her to the fabric, and revealed what was beyond, like a magician finishing a proud trick.

"Welcome to Sanctuary, Shaina," Thalia said with a grin.

The acropoli from before had come to life before her, though the city was little in face of the Ecliptic Temples, structures floating inexplicably up to the colossal statue of Athena. She walked out unable to even utter sounds, the plaza busy with trade, chatter, and play. The sunlight from outside the caves had been replaced by a moonless night, but the streets were constantly illuminated with flame or lamp.

"What is this place?" she asked astounded.

"This here is our home," said the priestess.

The women pressed her to move on, so they hurried to reach Aleka and the boy. Upon its arrival, the caravan was fast in disbanding, such that each group or individual went their merry way, no goodbye or payment required. In this sense, the High Priestess was no different, for she had responsibilities to attend to.

That street they went down was rather lively too, as was most of the city center during such hour. By the time the trio came up to the High Priestess, another crossroads came, and Thalia intermitted.

"Lady Aleka!" she called, so the woman stopped and turned with her apprentice. "We'll be taking Shaina with us."

"And where to?" Aleka asked.

A bit unsure of her reaction, Thalia smiled awkwardly. "To the amazon's barracks…?" she revealed, information that earned a frown and grouch from the High Priestess.

Knowing there was no undoing the will of a girl so stubborn, the foiled cultist spoke straight to Shaina: "If you change your mind someday, I beg that you come to us. We will accept you wholeheartedly."

The child only stared, first at her, then at her friend, who also had no more words. They turned and left towards the headquarters, but she had qualms letting the boy go. "Wait!" Shaina raised the voice. "Where's Alessio going?"

"To be taught," Aleka responded, barely turning back midway. "If the future serves you well, you shall meet again."

A last stare was what the other orphan gave her, brief and serious. They were never meant to have become friends, she thought. It would have only crossed his righteous obligation.

Thalia lowered to Shaina's height, then said: "Don't worry about him, he's going to learn how to fight just like you."

"Then why is he going with the nun?" the girl questioned, yielding immediate laughter from the young cultists.

"Nun?" Thalia reinforced that with jeer.

As the three began stepping towards another street, the other priestess exclaimed: "There's a new name for us!"

"You know, you're a funny girl, Shaina. It'll be a shame leaving you to those women."

They went far, in fact farther than the High Priestess had to go to find the headquarters; on the way, the cultists had many a conversation, yet the child they guided was quiet, acquainting herself with the surreality of Sanctuary. Soon the density of buildings and people grew rare, and thus the streets quietened, distant rocky mounds looming closer.

From quietude came a different kind of noise; rather than the civil lives of the average inhabitants, now there was training, workout, and discipline echoing by those parts. Shaina saw lines of masked girls being trained beside a medium-sized hill, watched over by older amazons. At the foot of the mountain, small tents and cooking pots were erected, though not all of them camped outside.

The cultists passed, and those masks of theirs — typically blank, but at times bearing paintings of varying colorfulness — followed their trajectory with interest, even more the maskless child, who responded with marvel glimmering in her eyes.

"Before you ask 'is this all they do, Lady Thalia?' Yes, this is all they do all day every day," the priestess commented, referring to the constant physical effort. Shaina did not seem to mind.

They walked over to the barracks, closest to one of the more remote roads in Sanctuary's grounds. The building's shape was that of a pi when seen from above, and it had many arches from the structure that opened towards that central field, full of sand and dirt. Many teenage girls either sat or sparred there, a view similar to the training grounds used by Bronze Saints and soldiers near the Temple of Aries.

Despite the ground not being the softest, those trainees fought with vigor. A pair of youths fell while wrestling, almost bringing Shaina with them. The other cultist safely pushed her back, and those fearsome, statuesque eyes did not exude a feeling. Having gotten up, the girls shoved each other and returned to their practice.

Thalia and her colleague stopped by an older amazon, Shaina to the forefront. This warrior had her arms crossed, overseeing the several dozens of recruits who tested the limits of their own bodies. "Hi, Captain!" Thalia joyously said.

"Priestesses…" the amazon responded, briefly noting the child in their care.

"This here is Shaina. She says she wants to join."

The captain scoffed when she looked down at the girl, as if she did not believe another outsider would be worth her while, much less one suggested by that cheerful cultist. Then Shaina scowled, visibly disrespected, and that amazon thought it wouldn't hurt giving a chance.

"She's really serious about it," Thalia confirmed.

"We'll find out," the amazon said, then she unfolded the arms and turned to a row of girls sitting by one of the field's side. Her gaze fell upon a redheaded pre-teen, busy speaking to others around her age; since she wasn't sparring yet, and the captain trusted her enough to show a clueless urchin the reins, she summoned her. "Marin, get over here!" The trainee cut off the talks, stood, and started walking over to her superior. "Haste, girl!" She hurried the steps, despite the fact she wasn't as sluggish as it was made out to be. "Try walking as fast as you swing a punch, and you'll be golden."

"Yes, Captain," Marin monotonously presented herself.

The older woman raised a hand to the soon-to-be addition. "Get this newblood her mask and some linen," she demanded.

The redhead sighed and signaled for the child to follow, so she was given her suitcase, and both went on to a passage in the barracks. "See you another day, Shaina!" Thalia exclaimed and waved goodbye.

As the cultists made their leave, the other murmured: "Girl's in for a rough awakening…"

Shaina cluelessly followed Marin through a corridor, passing by some women who chatted, a couple of injured girls being tended to, or just windows to the symphony of fighting outside.

"You weren't born here either, based on those clothes," the older girl commented without turning to the newbie. Shaina never said anything back, so she proceeded. "What brings you?"

After a moment, she replied: "It sounds better than where I came from." Somehow she took this as absolute fact, either by the fervor of first-contact, or genuine contrast with the orphanage's routine.

"You'll need more than that if you want to feel at home here," Marin said that, posing Sanctuary as more of a challenge than Shaina took it for.

"I want to be strong and fight," the other said, "isn't that why you're here too?"

The redhead nodded. "I joined so I don't have to lie helpless while someone I love protects me," she told. "Never again."

This, in a way, resonated with Shaina's circumstances, albeit in a distinct note. She stayed mute, as to leave her new colleague's motive to stand on its own, and so they came by an entrance built of two narrow wooden doors. Marin pushed the handles to expose a dark, tight room.

When the light of torches from the corridor and outside broke past, they could see several dusty boxes and chests, stacked without rhyme or reason. The older girl searched a moment, coming upon a chest that, once opened, revealed a sea of masks, some sculpted more oddly than others.

Sifting through them, she said: "If people see you without the mask, they'll think you're just a regular girl. That and, I mean…" she stopped and took one, handing it over to Shaina "… we're supposed to wear them. See if that fits."

The future Ophiuchus took in the mask's blank, spruce expression. In that second the noise of her trauma, once muffled, resurfaced as a despised memory. She could stand strong against it, were she stoic as that face in hand.

Turning the inside to herself, Shaina slowly wore it, allowing the stone to rest on sensitive skin. As she stared past it, she did so as a new being, or so it felt. To her, provided that she lived as the amazons lived, those past pains would capture her no more. The mask thus also wore her well, and thereon she looked forward to a second existence, for that next breath felt like being born anew.