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Prelude I

Wednesday, May 22nd, 1743

Two Years Prior

"Sir Albafica?"

The voice came from the back entrance to the Hall of Roses, its golden cosmos betraying its presence and its identity. He lifted his head slightly from where he was focusing on a patch of roses, turning. As he did, the roses nearest Miss Sasha all closed their flowers. Better not to poison her, even as he wasn't so sure that she was vulnerable to them.

Miss Sasha wasn't as new to the mountain as her expression implied. She held onto the staff of Nike like she thought someone was going to take it away from her, her blue eyes crystalline with unshed tears. There was little sadness in her cosmos, and indeed little understanding, either. Had Natalisse not told her anything? Had she somehow not noticed the battle happening just above them both?

Stéfanos Vóreios Natalisse, who should have been guarding her, did not appear. "I am here, Lady," he answered instead. "Is Stéfanos Vóreios not with you?"

Miss Sasha shook her head. "She said she can't come near the garden, but that my cosmos protects me, and I should find you."

Of course she had. Coward. They'd probably sent Natalisse because he tolerated her more than most of the Saintias, but if there was going to be an actual fight - and there was, there was - she wasn't taking her chances with his temper. Better to send Miss Sasha to him instead of having her Saintias do their job. If nothing else, it would keep Albafica out of the fight.

Some days, he really thought Kaeneus had the right idea, burning Sanctuary to the ground and leaving the lot of them to the Spectres as an easy meal. "You've found me, Lady. Did Stéfanos Vóreios not tell you anything else?"

She shook her head, and he bit back a curse of irritation, if nothing else. They wouldn't cross into the temple at all, but they'd happily prod him with thorns and give him tasks they couldn't be bothered to do themselves. "I guess- there's something going on, up in Sir Sage's chambers. It sounded like there was fighting…"

"There still is. Come along." He rose to his feet, beckoning her over his shoulder, leading deeper into the temple. "If you can't tell who's fighting and why, you shouldn't be involved."

She followed him, and the roses closed around her, opening once she passed. They didn't close for him: they didn't have to. He was their source of power, after all. He lead her to the southern pavilion, through a pair of dark hallways lit only by his Witchlight Roses. He stopped briefly to take a bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses from a nearby rose, earning him a sparkle of extra confusion from Miss Sasha, who probably hadn't seen that particular parlour trick before.

"I don't have servants," he said, in answer to the question she didn't quite ask. "That means if I want something that exists in an icebox on the other side of my temple, either I get it myself or I make the icebox door light enough for my roses to open."

The pavilion looked down upon the other eleven temples and the grounds of Sanctuary itself: the view wasn't quite as good as it was in the library rooftop, but it was sheltered from any chance of rain or debris from the fight. It wasn't as though they were going to see anything, anyway. He set both glasses down on the table along with the bottle, kneeling at the icebox. Better to have some for the whiskey.

Miss Sasha took one of the two seats, resting her staff across her lap. Just as he poured ice into the tumblers, Aspros' cosmos at the top of the mountain shone brightly before guttering out. It was early evening, not late enough for the sky to darken. It didn't have to. They saw the shooting star anyway.

Albafica glowered, a tenseness around his eyes that looked barely different from his normal resting expression. He'd never been skilled at showing his emotions.

"Did Sir Aspros…?" Miss Sasha trailed off. He jerked his head in a nod.

"Evidently." He dropped himself into the other seat, sighing. Nothing they could do about it now: the only one who could possibly solve this now was Manigoldo, and he wouldn't. He followed Sage too tightly to be useful. Albafica reached over to the bottle of whiskey, uncorking it and filling both glasses. Miss Sasha eyed it dubiously.

"What is that?" she asked. He finished pouring, and re-corked the bottle.

"Whiskey." He didn't bother toasting, there wasn't a point to it, he just threw back the full glass. It burned as it went down. He found he didn't quite care anymore. He set the glass back down, not quite slamming it, looking her in the eye. She tensed, but did not run. "There is something rotten in this mountain, Lady, and if you are the goddess you claim to be, you will do something about it."

She blinked, looking sadder now. Her cosmos betrayed her: she didn't understand, even now. "I'm just one little girl…" she ventured, as though that would get her anywhere.

"You stopped having that excuse the moment you took up that staff," he countered, flatly. "I was only slightly more than half your age when my training began, alone. Most of us can say the same, some of us were younger. You are a goddess, this is your army. If you don't like how things are done, you need to fix it."

She looked at him, almost wounded. "I didn't ask for you all to do that."

He might have raised an eyebrow, but all he felt was tired, and it was all too clear to him what had happened. "We mostly didn't have a choice in whether or not to do it, and yet here we are."

"What's going on up there, Sir Albafica?" she asked instead. She hadn't touched her tumbler, clearly unwilling to let go of her staff. Or listen to him, for that matter. She was human enough for that.

"Sage told Sisyphus and Aspros both that the other was going to take his place. Sisyphus ceded the win. Aspros argued. Looks to me like the twins challenged Sage then and there, and he had Asmita waiting to take them both out."

The natural cosmos of the mountain flared, for just a moment. Then it dropped. Albafica blinked, uncorking the whiskey again to pour himself another glass. Well, there wouldn't be any more fighting after that, then. "I doubt he expected Kaeneus, though."

"Kaeneus?"

He sighed. "Defteros. That, in of itself, is the problem."

"Oh. I don't recognize what he just did…"

"That would have been his Álli Diástasi. Like Shion's teleportation, but his can't be followed, stopped, or tracked." He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly. "If they ask you for your opinion on who should track him down and kill him for desertion, don't volunteer me, because I'm not doing it."

"But… don't you know the Dídymoi twins better than anyone…?"

"Exactly why I'm not going to kill my friend, lass. I don't find it in myself to care what orders Sage gives about it." He tipped his tumbler back, taking another sip. There was no fight to be had now, no reason to defend Miss Sasha with any actual effort, ergo, there was no reason not to start drinking at quarter after four in the afternoon.

She looked at him a moment, her confusion writ clear on her face. "Shouldn't you be loyal to him?"

He shrugged. "I'm supposed to be loyal to you, or rather, Lady Athena. Because Sage is the man closest to her when you're not here speaking her will into reality, I'm supposed to listen to him unless you tell me not to. Seems to me then that if I want something, it's faster to ask you directly than to ask him to pass it on and hope he actually will."

"But… why wouldn't he pass it on?"

It took some mental effort not to glare at her. "I don't know for certain if you've noticed, but Sage's decisions just got my best friend murdered. This isn't so out-of-character for the man - I almost wish I was surprised, but I'm not." He bit back a shaky laugh. Ah, there was the shock. The grief would follow shortly on its heels. Hopefully after Natalisse came and got Miss Sasha, and got her out of his temple.

She flinched back at the word 'murdered', and he wished that he could sympathize. He continued. "The only reason the garrison of Gold Saints hasn't openly overthrown him is because we would need everyone to do it, and he's been smart about getting just enough loyalty on his side that we can't. Asmita and Manigoldo won't go against him. Shion wouldn't, either, and I'm not stupid enough to think Sisyphus has even thought about it."

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth a moment. "But you don't think saying that is going to be a problem," she ventured.

He scoffed. Disrespectful, yes, but honest. Let her figure out that he wasn't going to lie to her. He'd always trusted the Saints who hadn't lied to him, he assumed she would be the same. "If you tell him and he takes action, I wrap roses around every entrance and go take a nap in the aqueducts. No one gets past a Ichthýes Saint who doesn't feel like letting anyone inside." He sighed, relenting a little. She wasn't going to listen if he just yelled at her, and his volume, while still soft, had been rising. "A fool might think there is justice within these walls. I am not a fool. You're in charge here, Lady. Do his memory a favour, and fix it."

He rose from his chair. He could feel Natalisse's cosmos at the back entrance again, and so inclined his chin to the nearest open rose. "We're in the front pavilion. You can report to me here."

Whatever Natalisse said in response, he didn't bother listening. Her cosmos indicated she had started walking again, clearly both worried and incensed. She appeared in the doorway a moment later, her Silver Cloth shining over training gambeson, unshed tears in her eyes.

She knelt. "Lady Athena. Sir Albafica."

He eyed her. She hadn't brushed her hair back the way she usually had: she hadn't been on duty until there'd been a surprise pair of Dídymoi twins sneaking about in places they probably weren't allowed to be. "Report, Stéfanos Vóreios."

Natalisse raised her eyes, but didn't rise. "Dídymoi Aspros is dead," she said, as though they hadn't noticed.

"Get to the point."

She winced. "I'm- I'm trying, sir. He discovered an old technique of the Dídymoi Cloth, called the Genro Mao Ken, and cast it upon Defteros. He ordered him to kill Pope Sage. Parthénos Asmita intervened, saving the lives of both Defteros and Pope Sage. Defteros turned on Dídymoi Aspros, and now he's dead. He - Defteros - claimed the Dídymoi Cloth as his own, and used the Álli Diástasi to escape, with Dídymoi Aspros' body."

Albafica blinked. "If he has attained the cloth, then you will call him Dídymoi Defteros," he replied, sharply. "The Cloth accepted him. Unless Lady Athena" - he jerked his thumb back towards her - "says he isn't, he's now a Gold Saint, and you will address him as such."

Natalisse frowned, but didn't press the point. "Pope Sage has asked for the return of Lady Athena. When he is done discussing the current situation with her, he will be calling a Golden Round."

Hm. That would be an issue: Shion was in Jamir, Regulus was in Ireland on his first mission, and Dohko was scanning Naples for Spectre activity. All three would have to be called back, and that would take some time. He glanced to Miss Sasha, who had apparently taken the chance when Albafica and Natalisse were arguing to empty her tumbler of whiskey. Judging by her expression, she didn't care for it much.

"Remember what I told you, Lady," he said, flatly. "The Hall of Roses is open for you both." He handed both tumblers and the bottle of whiskey back to the roses, where they promptly disappeared, and walked past Natalisse, deeper into his temple. They could see themselves out.

In the meantime, he needed to head to Spíti-Dídymoi, and investigate. Something in particular spurred this on. Something caused Aspros - Lysandros, he was dead now, there was no point using his Sanctuary-name - to do this. He doubted Kaeneus - Dídymoi Kaeneus, if it weren't for the tragedy he would be overjoyed for his friend - had found himself with much of a choice, and he doubted further that Sage would actually tell them the truth of what had happened.

His answers might be found in their temple. Failing being the one stuck finding Dídymoi Kaeneus, he wasn't going to get another lead. And if Sage was quick, he'd have the temple cleaned up of any possible evidence before it sealed itself off, awaiting the return of its Saint.

All Albafica had to do was get there first.

#reblog #saint seiya #i am subjecting all of you to a masterpiece #astral queue

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