Flight on Torn Wings

MU:

"Let me get this straight.... you want to go away?" I stared him down hard, achingly aware of the decisive violence he used to glare back at me. It was like trying to outstare a cat. "Milo... that's..."
"I don't mean leave the Order or anything of the kind, we are not deserting. Just go away, for a while. He needs rest and quiet... time to forget, to come to terms with things," his voice was low, yet I could hear the undercurrent of interest in him. It was not enthusiasm, yet he too seemed to favour the idea of going off for a while.

"Milo... running away won't help him. He should face the problem." I softened my expression and forced myself to relax. "If he needs time to come to terms with it, let him do it where he can we watched."

"I will be watching him." He practically exuded defiance, I was hard pressed not to react badly to his forceful attitude. I studied him worriedly, unsure of how safe that could be. Milo himself was not doing perfectly well, and Cygnus needed rest. Letting them go off like that went against my healer instincts.

"You are hardly therapeutic Milo," I reproached him gently. His frown deepend.

"And you call this place therapeutic?" He spread his arms, gesturing for me to look around. "I call it an irritatingly spotless building with extremely bad food. Moreover, if you are so unsure about my ability to look out for him, why on earth did you volunteer me to Athena in the first place?"

He had a point there. I sighed and folded my arms, trying to cope with my own misgivings. In truth, I was quite sure he would be good for Cygnus, and viceversa, but I had not imagined they would decide to go off somewhere unsupervised. Was I being too protective? They were adults. Even more, they were warriors, and they should be able to look after themselves. They were supposed to know what was best for them.

"I'm just worried something will happen." Weren't we all? The past few weeks had been hell, and now peace seemed too good to be true. It was all so much easier and safer when I could keep them all vigilated. All of them in one place, close together.

Milo opened his mouth to speak, then gave me a strange look. I jumped slightly when I felt the edges of his aura touch mine. I had grown so acustomed to Athena's invading presence that the mere courtesy of asking for my permission was a refreshing sensation. Perhaps because of this, and the fact that his friendly deference pleased me, I let him sense my feelings. He seemed to mull over them, eyes unfocused yet filled with intent. I had forgotten how strange the touch of a Scorpio could be, especially Milo. It was an intoxicating sensation, so much passion and unfettered emotion, so alive even when life seemed a horror. I closed my eyes slightly, revelling in the intensity of his emotions, wondering if I would ever....

He pulled back with an almost audible aetheric crackle, his eyes fixing on me with determination and a touch of... compassion? I tensed, suddenly aware of the fact that I had let Milo into my defences, and what a great tactical mistake that could be. But why should it be? We were no longer enemies, were were companions! We were the Order of Athena's Saints... weren't we? Why did I still fear the future?

"Mu... we are only a thought away," he whispered.

The brief mental murmur warmed me in an inexplicable way.

"If anything happens, I will call you. But you needn't worry over us like that. We can fare on our own, we always have. I am sorry," he paused and gave me a hardening look. "... if my going away will leave you with too much free time."

I gave him a hard stare. "Are you implying I meddle too much in your problems?"

"Don't get defensive on me Mu," he warned, eyes momentarily chilling. "You feel..." he moved his fingers in a futile attempt to ilustrate how my aura had felt to him. "... confused, and hurt. I apreciate the fact that you are so eager to help us all, but I think that - given the circumstances - you also need some time alone to come to terms with all that's happened."

"Do you presume to know my own heart better than myself?" I asked, feeling pricked and oddly jarred by his soft suggestion. Goddess, I was indeed acting defensive.

"No more than you presume to know mine," Milo replied in a mellowing voice. He reached out and put his arm on my shoulder. "And you always did know best." His smile was infectious, yet I could not for the life of me mirror it. My mouth felt suddenly dry, parched even. I swallowed, giving him a slightly bewildered look.

"And when did you suddenly become an expert on people's hearts?"

"Always have been. Expect for my own." His smile became impish, the smile of a juvenile delinquent, which had always suited him so well. "You know, it's true what they say. We can never be sure of what's inside our heart until someone else points it out."

"Milo..."

"You can always fawn over Aiolia. Between Kat's desertion and Marin's cold shoulder...." he winked, squeezing my shoulder before letting go. "Let me handle this one."

"And who will handle you?"

His eyes turned faraway, lost in some vast expanse of nothingness. When they refocused on me, there was a touch of sadness that had not been there before. A new kind of pain that was different from those which had become so much a part of him. I had never truly pondered on the intensity and depth of Milo's eyes... for all his joyful act there was such suffering behind them. Life seemed intent on adding up more. Yet this new shine was strangely comforting to me, a reasurance to placate my fears.

"You know what? I think it's time I learned to take care of myself." I felt my jaw drop slightly. Milo must have noticed it as well for the sober look fled his face to be replaced by the mixture of a frown and a pout. "You look like I had just told you I was growing a tail," he informed darkly.

I could only laugh. I laughed so hard my sides hurt and I had to lean on a chair. Milo smiled then, crossing his arms with that damned superior grin on his face.

"You always get what you want in the end," I told him, wiping away a mirthful tear. "But I still think you should take this matter up with Athena."

"I think it's a great idea."

We both jumped and spun on our heels at the sound of her steady voice. She was sitting in the shadow of an open door, her frilled skirts gathered up behind her legs carefully. One pale mauve eyebrow rose as she took in our startled and shaken appearance. She did not smile however, which irritated me somewhere deep inside in ways I could not explain.

"Lady..." Milo stammered, all colour gone from his cheeks. She held up a hand and bid him silent.

"I already gave Shaka permission to go off on a..." she faltered, searching for the right word. "Vacation, of sorts. I agree with you on your asessment of Hyoga's present state. Staying here would do him no good."

He nodded, a flush of pleasure rose on his cheekbones before he lowered his eyes. "Thank you, Lady."

I prayed for Athena to not probe his aura as she usually did with mine, for I knew all too well how eager Milo was to get away from her. She symbolised all we had ever fought for, yet now that we had her; past mistakes haunted us with binding chains, making our devotion to her both a dream come true and an agony beyond measure. I wondered if she had realised it at all.

"But... were will you go?" I could not help putting in the pragmatist's argument. "You want to get out of your temple and I doubt Hyoga would want to go back to Siber..." Milo's face clouded at my mention of Camus' home. No, I didn't think Milo would want to go to the house where Hyoga had trained either.

Athena glanced from one to the other, giving me a questioning look and Milo a calm stare. She was purely Athena today it seemed, with not a hint of Saori for us to console to our fates with her humane love. The love of a Goddess seemed to be stronger and colder than we had expected. It was not a comfort.

"The Isle of Milo... or somewhere in Greece. Who cares? Somewhere quiet were he can rest without having to think about his brothers or anything else."

At that I felt a stab of unease. There was still one detail which I had discussed with everyone but Milo so far. I felt Athena's eyes on me and I knew she was thinking of the same thing. I sighed, casting Milo an apologetic look.

"There is still one last think to do, and we need both your help and his presence." Milo stood straighter, shoulders pulling back as tension raked his body again.

"What do you mean?"

"The bronze cloths Milo... have you forgotten? We have to fix them."

Milo's eyes closed slowly, his lips parting in defeated acceptance. "Of course," he sighed. "I take it that, since they are too hurt, we are the ones going to...?"

"Do you object?" I questioned, mildly. I could feel Athena's aura slowly circling ours, testing the strength of our allegiance to her. That thought in itself did not only discomfort me, it angered me immensely.

"No, of course not. But I will only do it for Hyoga... my blood on his cloth, understand? No one else's!" He declared, eyes flashing. His aura needled at Athena's, defying her lack of faith in him and me in a way I found curiously endearing.

"We had imagined it would be so."

You now stand in Camus' place for Hyoga, what will you do, Milo?

HYOGA:

"No..." I shook my head, pulling away from Milo. He sighed and let me go, his hands dropping off my shoulders as I moved out of his grasp, stubbornly facing the window.

"Don't you want to be Cygnus again?" I felt a sudden yearning, a connection deeply ingrained in my psych that demanded to be paid heed to. Yes, I wanted to be Cygnus. But to go there...

To see them.

"In which temple?" I knew my voice wavered when I asked it and I cursed myself for letting him see how this affected me. Then again, he might have known anyway. Milo gave me a startled, pained look.

"Aries, of course."

Aries Temple. I could deal with that. It was one of the few places I did not remember shedding blood in. I remembered it to be peaceful... vacated.

It was no secret to me that I was afraid of going to the Twelve Temples. This frayed and tired, I did not feel up to facing the ghosts I knew I would find there. Hundreds and thousands of them, dead warriors. Dead saints of Athena from a thousand eras. The thought sent sharp shards of ice into the centre of my bones, making my queasy. I didn't want to go there now that they would have time to appear to me. I didn't want to feel them, or hear them... much less see them.

Much less realise I knew them.

What if I stepped into the Aquarius Temple and found Camus there, cold and wraithlike? I didn't want to risk it! Ghosts never lied, they knew not how... and to hear the truth of what Camus had felt...

To know, from his own ethereal voice, that he had hated me and resented me? That I was weak and useless and I had ruined his efforts? That I had killed him? That he had preferred death over letting me be softer than him, soft enough to love him? That I had been that much a dishonour to him? No.. God, no!

I couldn't!

"No..."

"Hyoga, don't be irrational." Milo drew closer to me, hovering at the edge of the bed. I could sense his unhappiness. He did not like it either., but it had to be done. Warm fingers touched the back of my neck pressing down gently and kneading. I stopped myself from brushing them off, trying to fit the gentle touches somewhere in my mind. It was strange, almost surreal. No one had touched me like that. The closest I could think of was my mother... and the was the only person that had expressed affection by touching. It made me feel childish and weak, the very pleasure seemed subversive to my way of life. But it felt good, and I didn't really want him to stop.

Except that it confused me, it made me want more of it. It was so easy to grab on to something that tangible as a lifeline...

Was this the kind of relationship Camus and Milo had had? I did not imagine Camus as a terribly physical person, yet I could all too well imagine Milo imposing himself on my cool master, forcing him to accept an affection he would have otherwise refused.

He had always refused mine. Perhaps he had not needed love at all, having had Milo?

The only thing that came up in my mind after that though was envy, though I could not tell for sure if it was towards Milo for having Camus in such an intimate way, or towards Camus, for finding a way to charm Milo, who seemed so hard to pin down.

"I just..." I sought for a way to explain myself and found none. "Going back there is... hard." I swallowed to wet my throat, feeling as if my mouth were full of cotton.

"I know," he muttered and looked away. I turned to face him, noting that despite his stoic silence a muscle jumped wildly in his jaw and his fingers were all but digging into the skin of his arms.

"Seiya and the others will be there as well?" Of course they would be there, but I needed to hear him say it.

"Yes," he sighed, then faced me with a disturbingly fond look. "But I'll be there as well, you know?"

"Yes well," as comforting as the thought was, I wasn't going to tell him. "If there is no other way out... I'll go."

Milo's face lit up with a smile, such a simple thing really. "It will be fine."

I simply gifted him with a doubtful sidelong glance, unable to call up reserves to pretend to smile. "When?"

"Next week."

I nodded and lay back down, closing my eyes. Milo didn't go away.

MU:

I watched in silence as Kiki guided them up, battered and bandaged under their clothes, they look like mere shadows of the fearsome warriors we had all seen at the cusp of Athena's Sanctuary. Less composed and more childish, now that there was no reason to hold themselves together. Unlike Cygnus, the other four did not crumble from the inside but around the edges. Be it because they had someone else to hold them in one piece, or simply because the situation had not altered their deeper truths and value sets. They had killed, fought, hurt; in sum, all that was expected of them. Still, a few days of watching over Milo and the unsteady situation with the fifth saint had put things in another perspective. I wondered uneasily how Kiki would fare without me. How he would miss me.

The idea of him carrying the weight of my death on his shoulders was unspeakable.

I did not wish to undervalue the lives of any of our dead comrades, yet Camus' death seemed foremost in my mind. Had he even imagined there would be two people that would be as devastated by his death as Milo and Cygnus were? And Saga too... though Saga was entirely Milo's to mourn for, now. Still, I had the inkling that his final redemption had served its purpose; he would be idolised by both the bronze saints and Athena.

He was, indeed, a hero. Even if he had killed Shion, even if his sins could never be atoned for. His final act of courage, to destroy himself before destroying Athena, would be remembered. None of us would know or understand the war he had waged in his mind, yet that war had caved worlds appart. Milo's world, most of all.

I turned away from the entrance and stared at those assembled in my Temple. Looks of muted sadness greeted mine with a steeled tranquility I found strange in all of us. However, it was better to act perfectly composed in front of the children. They might be our heroes right now, but they too needed something to look up to, something to aspire to. We had better give them a show.

Hadn't we, after all, been preparing for this ever since we began training?

Shaka arrived last, stepping into the temple through the back entrance. Milo's eyes widened and fixed on him with intense curiosity and no small measure of affection. I nodded at him, despite his closed eyes, gesturing with both hands and aura that he could take his place. There would be time later to ask him about his trip.

Perhaps he kept his eyes closed so as to not give himself away.

"They are here?" Aldebarán asked, his solid face locked in a strained grimace of discomfort. Such a big noble thing! His own part had been fairly less taxing than the others. He simply battered them up a little and then let them pass, trusting as he was of my own judgement. But I knew Aldebarán, and I knew that after seeing how they had ended up once the battle was over, he regreted every single blow he dealt them, which could have slowed them down and caused them more injury later. He practically blamed himself for the extent of the damage they had taken. It was refreshingly noble of him and I said nothing on it.

"Kiki is bringing them up," I intoned hollowly, staring down at the bits and pieces of what had once been mightly cloths. It was not work beyond my abilities, but the state of the armours was a grave testimony to the brutality mere children had had to suffer for our blindess. The dull shards of metal were nothing compared to the brilliant mythical beasts they had once represented. I could not help wonder if beneath all the bandages that held them together, the Bronze saints were just as broken.

"Half our blood?" Aiolia murmured, casting the broken cloth in front of him an uncertain look. I nodded numbly, already feeling at the edges of my aura the soft touch of Kiki's cosmo and that of the five saints.

"They are here," I announced at last, when I felt them to be only a few steps below the entrance. We straightened up; Aiolia smoothed out his cape and Shaka simply leaned back, Aldebarán shook himself like some great bovine beast and huffed.

Pale faces and unsure gazes met our assembly. I smothered down a smile and gestured for them to come closer. Seiya met my eyes with the first glimmers of hope coming to fore, Shiryu seemed just as eager to see what would happen. Their illuminated expressions were sweet to look upon, that much hope after so much pain.

But I felt Milo's aura through the link that bound us Gold saints, and I tasted his anger.

MILO:

I stared at the final result, feeling their exultant auras, awed at the magnificence of their new cloths. Gratitude shone in their eyes as they thanked us profusely, bowing as orientals would. Hyoga too, which struck me as odd for he was clearly not Japanese. But he said they were brothers... did he mean more than an aetheric bond? Were they blood-relatives, however distant? In truth, I knew so little about him it amazed me. One would have thought Camus would talk about him more. But he hadn't, the only time he mentioned Hyoga was after he admited that his other pupil was dead. That was all. Other than that, all I knew was that the pupils existed.

Now that nameless, faceless child had both a voice and an aura I could feel. I had seen his tears, drawn his blood and saved him from his own deathwish. He was no longer "Camus' pupil". He was Hyoga, and that meant so much more, and had so many more strings attached to it. A person.. not a concept.

He sensed my aura touching his however briefly; sky blue eyes met mine, calm yet dull. The initial excitement over the reconstruction of his cloth had faded, glazed over into a tiredness that permeated his heavy glance. My stomach contracted at the thought of what could have been said in those few hours the five of them were left together in one room, dressed and barely composed, ready to be brought here. Had they fought again? Had they rejected him? Had he rejected them?

The idea that he might not need me anymore, for all was solved, was terrifying. It was with guilty gratitude that I realised that things seemed to be just as tense between them, regardless of their openess when it came to helping each other walk and lean their weight when standing up became too tiring. It wasn't hatred, it was... a repelling sort of affection. A love that was stronger than war, but not strong enough to hold itself together just like that.

They had been separated and sent to training camps all over the world, then they had been brought back together into one battle after another. But virtually, they were strangers to each other in all the ways that counted. Or, more acurately, Hyoga was still the foreigner to them, in both heart and manner. It was love that bound them nonetheless, and I could see how Andromeda struggled to hold Hyoga's eyes, how the proud Phoenix saint watched Hyoga with a mixture of anger and pain.

It lasted only for a short while. Once it was done and the cloths came off, to be put away in their urns until their bearers were fit to use them again, they reached out to Hyoga in a vain attempt to get him to come with them. He shook his head, a weak smile gracing his thinned lips. They looked down, defeated, as he moved past them and leaned his back against a pillar, closing his eyes. Seiya watched me warily when I walked up to Hyoga, giving him a steady smile as I reached the spot where he appeared to rest. The others were retreating, Mu was urging them out.

"That was a whole lot of blood," Hyoga informed me in a critical way. His eyes did not leave his brothers' backs until they were out of the Temple, when Seiya cast him one last pleading look which Hyoga ignored alltogether.

"I had more to spare than you, given the circumstances."

"So now you become my legal guardian?" The grim tone made me shiver slightly.

"Is that bad?"

"My caretakers have a surprising tendency to find an early grave," he said it in a monotone, stringing it out with such lack of emotion it made my stomach drop. His aura however, was hot. Irrationally hurt and angry when I touched it, his eyes belied his true feelings on the matter.

"I'm a strong person," I clipped back at him, feeling my brows knit together.

"So was Camus."

I sighed angrily and ran a hand through my hair, wincing as I pulled the tangled snarls here and there with little care for the inconsequential sting. Talking to Hyoga was like talking to Camus sometimes. They found ways to run me into a corner every single time. His eyes dared me to tell him I was stronger than Camus, which I wasn't really sure of, or to tell him I wouldn't die, which would be a lie.

"Well, at least we can make the most of the time we have left, before you start measuring out my coffin." Something dull and hurt flickered behind his eyes before he concealed it, a wan little smile replacing his previous scowl.

"And now?"

"Now... I have some things to fish out of my quarters before we figure out where to go." His smile froze, the cold seeping into his softening eyes, turning them to ice once again. "You know, clothes and such..."

Mu's voice, low and carefully concealed from Hyoga's weakened senses. I tried to mentally bat him away, yet he pressed on, Aries to the very core of his self.

I snapped back, holding Hyoga's gaze, trying to keep him from noticing the press of another aura communicating with me. Well, this was Mu's temple after all, his aura had impregnated the whole building, one more hint of it here or there would make no difference.

I cursed Mu silently, and them myself for not having taken that into account.

"We will go through some hidden passages to save time and not tax you too much," I told Hyoga mildly, trying to bring back the smile into his eyes.

"Don't treat me like an invalid."

I grabbed his healthy shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make him look up at me and hide a wince as my fingers found some old bruise. "Then don't you test my patience like this," I hissed dangerously, tightening my hold on him ever so slightly.

Yes... and Camus too, seemed to have a penchant for making me angry. It was only fair, when he was not irritating me, I was purposefuly rubbing him raw in every possible way. But when I needed him, he was always there, no matter what had transpired between us before.

Was it like that between Hyoga and his brothers?

"If you expect me to apologise, you'll be waiting for a long long time," he muttered, eyes lidded. I let go of him, breathing in sharply in both anger and surprise. For someone who had been so fragile a mere few days ago, he was surprisingly hard to crack.

"Why are you acting like this? Is it because of the place? The Temple? Is that it?" he looked away without bothering to answer. "Ah.. it is. Why? Are you afraid of going back to the places you fought in? To Libra...? Where Camus tried to leave you frozen for an eternity?"

"What if it was that?" he demanded, curling in upon himself in a defensive attitude I knew far too well to trust it to be only defence and no offense.

"What if it was? Why don't you go up to Libra? There is nothing there Hyoga... only pillars. Better still, why don't we go up to Camus' temple?" I deliberately referred to it by the name of it's former occupant and not the real name, Aquarius Temple. Hyoga shrank back from me, eyes alight with raging blue flames that promised me pain and suffering. I smiled in the face of his threat, placing a hand on either side of his head, leaning my weight on the pillar. "Yes... why don't we? Maybe you could point out to me where it was that the pillars broke because he slammed you into them, and where they cracked because you slammed him against them. Even more, you could even show me were it was his dead body fell!"

As if the image and the knowledge weren't already burned into my mind indelebly. He clenched his fists, lips pulled into a thin line. His entire frame shook with the force of his constrained anger, but his eyes burned where his cosmo did not, and I knew that right there and then he hated me above everything else.

"Shut up," barely a whisper.

"Let's go there Hyoga... I am in the mood for some sightseeing."
"Shut. Up."

"In the end, you'll find nothing. He's dead Hyoga. Gone. Who cares if you go into his temple or not?"

"You really have no respect for the dead, do you?" I sucked my breath in violently, pulling back and raising an arm to slap him squarely across the face. His eyes didn't even flicker to my arm as moved it. I held it there, fingers splayed, muscles trembling, waiting for his eyes to waver. They didn't. Slowly, I lowered my hand and pushed myself completely away from the pillar, shaking my head in defeat.

"What would you know."

Blue eyes went from fire to ice again with stunning speed. Then the ice melted and it was his acustomed look, old and young, too innocent and too wise. He let out a shaky breath and licked his lips, closing his eyes for a few moments in an attempt to steel himself, to gather his wits back together.

"A lot," he said at last, in a small voice. "A whole damn lot."

"Killing isn't all there is to know about death." I should know. Death had fascinated me for far too long, to the point I knew far too much on it. It was noticeable, it made me darker than most people. At least I wasn't as mad in that aspect as Deathmask had been.

"I know that too," he said, with eyes like moons staring into my face in close scrutiny. "But you don't..." he stopped himself from going on, almost choking on whatever it was he was going to say, before looking away and slumping against the pillar.

"What?" I prodded him, curious about the unfinished sentence.

"Nothing..." he murmured, eyes alarmingly dull.

"Hyoga...."

"Not now Milo... please."

The conversation or the Temple? I decided it was better not to ask either way.

"Okay. Stay here while I go and get some clothes... yes?"

"Sure..."

I dashed up the steps and into the secret passages, running until my breath came short and ragged. I stopped running and leaned on the cold walls to steady myself. The heavy loss of blood finally caught up to me and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from throwing up, nausea making my stomach twist and churn heatedly.

"Goddess..."

I slowly calmed down and moved on, reaching my temple before I knew it. Sweat made my hair stick to my face uncomfortably, I pushed it back with trembling fingers. Getting my clothes was a matter of seconds. I looked around, looking for anything else I might need or want to take. It was a low blow, realising that despite the fact that I had made this place my home there was very little that I could call mine, or "Milo's". Furniture, yes. Draperies and candles and such like but... there was no scattered memorabilia, nothing that I would grab and take on a trip with me for sentimental reasons. Nothing personal. I sank down on the bed and breathed in deeply, looking up at the roof.

"Nothing at all here..."
Or anywhere else.

Now more than ever I understood what the phrase, "home is where the people are" meant. This place could have been home, had Camus been here. Or Saga...

Saga.

Thinking of him still made my chest contract into a compact ball of anguish. Camus was an entirely different kind of sorrow, yet no easier to bear. Damn, I shouldn't be thinking about this!

I grabbed my stuff, shoving it into a duffel bag and practically leaping up the stairs to get out. Sunlight streamed into the temple through the large archways, casting even shadows on the floor as it was blocked by the pillars. I moved into the light, basking in it's warmth before looking up. From here, Aquarius was visible. The circular temple shone like fresh polished marble in the sunlight, tall and beautiful.

Dead.

Dizzied by the harsh light I moved away, wiping the sweat off my face irritably. "God, I need a drink." Or a holiday from my life.

MU:

"So.. you are going to pay for an apartment?"

Athena looked up from her accounting, eyes calm and perfectly cool. "Of course, they'll need a place to sleep, food, extra money..."

"And you're just giving it to them?" I asked, incredulous. Not that I objected, I simply hadn't expected it. Black eyes fixed on me, the cloying, tar-like darkness returned in them.

"Consider all of yourselves my employees. As your Goddess, I should look out for your well being, no? This is a complicated era, is it not good that I can provide for you?"

I bowed lowly, pressing a fisted hand against my chest. "Of course Lady."

But inside I was afraid. Not for Milo or Cygnus, but for us, and our future. So forgiving, so ready to give it all away, so self-sacrificing and such a perfect martyr. Why did I feel as if half the time we would be saving our Goddess from herself and not some other menace?

I shivered, feeling the alien presence of Cygnus still in my temple. "Ah Lady.. I think I have things to do...."

I teleported back and sighed, finding the boy there as I had thought.

MILO:

Mu's reproachful voice touched the outer borders of my mind, insistent yet kind. I sighed and picked myself off the floor where I had been resting, seeking the comfort of the familiar cold stones of my temple. Hyoga was probably angry as hell at me for taking this long, still.... I had needed a little time to cool off and get my sense of bearing back, the ritual and the heat having taken away most of my daily share of patience. I dusted the back of my trousers, resting my fingers against one of the pillars lovingly. My home, for as long as I lived. A place in which Milo had resided, where no hint of Milo would be left once he died. Like all temples, they were our temples only for as long as we lived. When we died, the passed on to another, like our cloths, and we were forgotten like most things are.

I smiled bitterly to myself and grabbed the duffel bag, hoisting it behind me. I slung one of the straps over my shoulder, pulling my hair out of the way as it got caught.

"Mu said you are leaving."

I smiled a bit less morosely and turned around. "Shaka."

"Are you?"

"Why do you sound so uncertain about it?" Why was everyone so worried about our leaving for a time? It wasn't as if we were taking off to go and conquer the world. Or did they imagine we would commit group suicide? I stiffled a snicker and stored that thought away to laugh over it with Hyoga later on.

With Hyoga.

It was surprising how that thought could offer such a comforting balm to my inner turmoil, even in the current state of affairs.

"I'm just worried about you," he admited carefully. I raised an eyebrow, stunned. Shaka certainly seemed to be improving. From heartless deity wannabe to offhandedly acknowledging the fact he was fond of me as well. It was truly impressive.

"I'll be fine." I winked at him to distract him from trying to sense my aura. "How was your trip?"

His small smile thinned, eyes downcast. "I'm not sure..."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I got more than I bargained for originally."

I waited for a few seconds, realising that he not sought me out to simply say hello, he wanted to talk to me. Shaka wanted to talk to me to sort himself out. It was... the kind of realisation that leaves an abysmal question in your mind about what happened and how. Or when.

I knelt back down, letting the bag slide off my shoulder and onto the floor. Shaka gave me a startled glare as I patted the floor beside me, where he could lean on the pillar as well.

"On the floor?" he sounded slightly offended by my suggestion.

"You already tried the bed once, didn't you?" I slipped the knife in with an innocent smile, watching bemusedly as a blush crep up his neck and over his cheeks like a spreading brushfire.

The tone was not one of disapproval.

He conceded at last, his aura all but laughing at me.

MU:

"Milo will be taking a little longer," I told him gently, edging closer and staying in his direct line of vision. He did not seem like he would welcome a sneak attack, however friendly. His eyes followed me listlessly before dropping back down to the floor. "Someone wants to talk to him."

"Looks like he's rather popular," Hyoga whispered in a monotone little voice.

"In a way. Milo is like..." our heart. "The centre piece in our chessboard, we all en up depending on him by default."

"Why?"

"Because he feels so strongly, when most of us do not."

He nodded, sighing heavily before sinking to the floor, arms around his huddles knees. He truly looked like a child, but the eyes that met mine were steady and posessed of a mysteriously ancient light. I had seen eyes like that before... the eyes of a...

"And who wants to talk to him now?" Was it just my imagination, or was he trying to distract me? I gave him a hard look which was met with equal force. His aura tasted strange and unhappy; uncomfortable in my temple. I could all but hear his uncertainties, and the green feel of Shiryu's aura came up into his often enough for me to guess whom he thought I was most fond of. By default, that made him less welcome, or so he seemed to think. I decided to simply play along.

"Shaka."
"Virgo Shaka?" Ah yes... he had not been there for the battle in the 6^th Temple, all he knew about Shaka was hearsay.

"Yes, him." I nodded, smiling warmly. His gaze flickered to the staircase that lead upwards then back at me, cold and hurt.

"Why would he need help? I tought he was...infallible."

"Shaka is human, just like everyone else." Thought he would have killed me for saying that a few weeks ago. I wondered what he thought of that now. "Even Milo."

"And they are friends?" he asked at last. I realised that the interrelations inside Sanctuary were no only unknown but hard to picture, especially for someone who had not trained here. But he had been a Gold saint's pupil. Were they friends?

"Yes. Not as close as Milo and your teacher were..." his gaze clouded visibly when I mentioned Camus, but there was no point in shielding him from a pain he would have to come to terms with. Still, hurting him with that memory made my own heart ache, I struggled not to think of Kiki or how Hyoga's look on his face would seem. No one deserved such pain, yet it was ours by right: we were Athena's saints.

"Were they really that close?" I forced myself not to blink or give acknowledgement to what his slightly stressful voice implied. How close? Not lovers...

"Very close... they were the best of friends." I saw him accept the answer, eyes faintly surprised. So, had he imagined Milo and Camus were...? Well, it wasn't hard to conjecture on that, especially not with Milo's heavy mourning. No one really knew to whom Milo's heart had belonged.

Oh Milo...

He should tell the boy.

"I see...." Another sigh pushed past his lips, eyes dull and glassy.

"Shaka and Milo are only becoming close of the late," I went on. Perhaps he'd do better if I gave him some bearings on the situation. "Friends... that is."

I saw his eyebrows fly up the moment I said that. "What do you mean?"

I speculated whether it was a good idea to tell him or not. It probably was. Milo was hard to get to know, and they were going to start spending plenty of time together, he might as well find out what Milo was like when he wasn't bent on being protective or hurtful. When he was being teh Scorpio saint.

"Well, Shaka and Milo had a short..er... fling, a few years ago."

His eyes widened, owlish in the extremity of their surprise. Then something else stole into them.... envy?

Envy!?

I stared at him, even when he looked away, face crumpling slightly. Oh Goddess, what game was Milo playing at with this boy? That was not the reaction I would have imagined from him...

"That was unexpected," he murmured.

"It was just as odd for the rest of us," I whispered, trying to gauge the state of his aura without him noticing, but it was becoming increasingly harder in his current state.

"Even for..." he choked slightly. ".. for Camus?"

I sighed and shook my head. "He didn't really approve... circumstances were complicated, and he was afraid Milo might hurt himself further."
"Futher?" A hint of worry stole into his voice.

I smied, patting his unbandaged shoulder. "Ask Milo."

"Why are you even telling me this?"

"Because the need is mutual, and he has the advantage of knowing what your problem is." His eyes were wide and hard, like a frosty gem.

"Does he, now....?"

His tone made me blink. Those eyes bore into mine relentlessly. I shivered, caught like a mouse in the blue expanse of his eyes, paralised by their lightless pupils. He gazed into me, almost right through me, as if he could see my soul. The only change came when his eyes flickered slightly, aura arching off to respond to things I could not hear. But I, unlike others, could sense them.

Athena help us....

He was a Seer.

TBC....