CHAIN LINKS
A fanfic based on the world and characters of "Saint Seiya", created by and © Masami Kurumada. All rights to those characters are © Masami Kurumada, Toei Animation and probably a whole bunch of other people. Their use in this piece does not imply endorsement, approval or permission.
This story is set sometime between Sanctuary and the start of Asgard, about the only downtime from the start of Sanctuary to the end of Poseidon. I have taken the liberty of permitting Shun to use his second cloth before it's official debut, but I've minimised that as much as I could within the confines of the plot.
I couldn't think of a way around it, sorry to purists, call it an OAV if it makes you feel better, we all know how easily they fit into continuity. I've also used Albior rather than Daedalus (It was a coin toss, as the Cepheus Saint is dead either way it doesn't matter that much). Anyway, enjoy...
- - - - - - -
Chapter 1 â€" Chain Links
Shun stood on the deck of the boat and watched the Island come into view. At least the map bearings said it was the Island of Andromeda, but it looked very different from the last time he'd seen it from this angle. One whole side of the cliffs had fallen into the sea, the once extinct volcano's crater was smoking, and what little greenery there had been on the mountain had been wiped away like chalk off a blackboard.
He whirled at the sound of a soft footfall behind him, sunlight shining off armour making him reflexively reach for the chains on his wrists, then he smiled as he remembered his cloth was in it's chest beside him. "A little jumpy still?" The voice was quiet and amused.
Shun allowed himself a rueful smile in return, "Can you blame me, June?"
The Chameleon Saint was in full armour, her whip coiled at her waist. "Not really, a little paranoia is good for a Saint, no matter how many Gold Saints they may have bested. How are you feeling?". She put her arm around his shoulder, her face may have been hidden behind a mask, but he knew her well enough to feel the genuine concern.
The smile combined with a puzzled frown... "You tell me? Happy, regretful, scared, determined. I'm just my usual cute little bunch of self- contradictions. The only reason I ever wanted to come back to this place was to see Albior and you, but I didn't think it would be like this. I don't want to have to face this, but I know it's the right thing to do."
"I know what you mean, but I'm still not comfortable about HIM coming."
"Saori asked him to come, she felt it was appropriate."
He recalled the day of that particular meeting...
- - - - - - - -
They'd been out of hospital for a couple of days, and none of his fellow Saints had been in particularly conversational mood, not even his brother, though there had been a lot of meaningful silences in each others company. Talk would come, but not straightaway, too much had happened too quickly.
It had been Saori's idea for everyone to have a period of personal down- time; Shiryu had gone to visit Dhoko and ShunRei, Hyoga was out in Siberia somewhere doing his isolated loner bit, Seiya was spending some time with Miho and the kids at the orphanage. Ikki had done one of his vanishing acts, though, as always, he'd promised to return at a seconds notice should Shun or Saori need him.
They all had a lot of emotions to work through. But Shun had another matter to deal with, one that had been nagging at him since before they'd even left for Sanctuary. Saori had called him in to discuss it, but the conversation had not started well.
"No Saori-san, I won't do it."
The forceful tone obviously surprised Saori, which wasn't surprising at it surprised Shun too.
"Shun, I know that this is a lot to ask of you, but.."
"Saori, in battle there is nothing I wouldn't do for you, dammit you know that! This is a personal matter, and what I say goes!"
"Shun, you are the single most compassionate person I have ever met, and the most forgiving, I know this must be difficult for you, but please listen"
"Now, I could order you to obey me as the incarnation of Athena you have sworn to obey, whether in battle or not, but I won't. I respect you far too much for that, but I am asking you as a friend to think about what I am saying."
"Do you honestly believe for one moment that I would ask you to do something that I thought would harm you? I'd sooner die than cause any of you pain, you know that. This will benefit you, I promise you. What sort of an incarnation of the goddess of Wisdom and War would I be if I went around make bad judgement calls?". She risked a smile, "I'm not allowed to make mistakes like that, it's in my contract."
With an internal sigh of relief she saw Shun's frown lessen, this had been tougher than she had thought, though she could see his point, from one point of view. Actually she realised, she saw everything from every point of view and weigh them all up at the same time. That's what wisdom was as far as she could tell. Pondering which part of her personae THAT had come from, the spirit of Athena or a half remembered Readers Digest article, she turned her full attention to Shun again.
"Saori-san, when you phrase it like that it's hard to say no to you. I will do it, I sure as hell won't like it, but I will do it. I just wish it was anyone else but him."
"He has matters to deal with too, Shun, he was misled and his honour was sullied, he must make amends. I have ordered him to." She stressed the word to emphasise the difference in standing she accorded them.
"I just don't want to be the one to tell June about this. She'll go ballistic!"
"Hey, that's why I'm the goddess, I get all the fun jobs."
- - - - - - - -
"So we have arrived, it's been a while since I was here last and I can't say I had expected to see it again so soon."
Shun and June both turned at the deep, rich voice behind them.
The speaker was tall, with long purple hair falling almost to his waist, and dressed tastefully and expensively in a summer-weight suit, which didn't even seemed wrinkled by the cloth chest he carried on his back. Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint, was an imposing figure in or out of armour. Shun was grateful he wasn't in full armour, June might have perceived that as deliberately offensive.
"Yes, Milo-san", June's use of the honorific was almost insulting, "We return to the scene of your great battle." Shun elbowed her in the ribs as he leant down to pit on his cloth chest. Milo said nothing and all three turned to look at the island again, an uncomfortable silence between them.
Even after a week with him on a boat Shun still didn't know what to make of Milo. He was certainly not what he had expected of the assassin of the Gold Saints, who had been a whispered legend to them till only a few weeks ago.
Milo had actually proved to be charming company; intelligent, literate, coversant on a wide range of topics and even a good cook, as he had demonstrated on the boat. But he was always preoccupied, and Shun had noticed that his eyes often shifted into what he had dubbed "scanning mode", surveying his surroundings for entrances and exits, weapons and obstacles, assessing everyone around him as possible opponents. It was obviously the trademark of his vocation; an automatic assumption of danger.
The boats crew ate his food and laughed at his jokes, but didn't like to spend time around him. June refused to even take meals with him. Shun had forced himself to spend time with him, as Saori had requested, and found himself more confused than ever.
The boat came around the ruined remains of a jetty just as the sun was setting. Two figures were at the head of a small group standing there, and Shun recognised them immediately.
"Spica and Reda? They returned here?"
June nodded, "All the pupils who survived elected to remain here for the present. Where else did they have to go?"
Shun had to agree, but was less than happy that the two were wearing their self-styled Cloths. They had no ranking in the Saints of Athena, manifested no cosmo and appeared to have made their cloths themselves, twisted versions of the Andromeda Cloth they had sought, and failed, to win.
Spica called out to the boat; "Who approaches the Isle of Andromeda? State now thy name and purpose". The Greek dialect was old and stiffly formal, clearly a long standing tradition.
June, almost against her will, turned to Milo, who as ranking Saint, had the right to be identified first. He shook his head and gestured for her to take the lead. She called out to the shore "June, Bronze Chameleon Saint, to honour her Master."
"You are welcomed to the Isle, Chameleon Saint. Advance and strengthen the links of the Chain."
Shun stood forward. "Shun, Bronze Andromeda Saint, to honour his Master and pay final respects".
Spica and Reda at least had the courtesy to looked embarrassed, the last time they had met they had attempted to kill Shun, but Spica repeated the formal welcome, though Reda rubbed self consciously at a half healed scar on his cheek.
Both June and Shun leapt easily to the shore.
Mile stood forward, "Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint. To repay a debt of honour to a fallen comrade who was ill done by."
The small group on the shore looked stunned and Shun realised they had never seen the Saint out of armour, and without a developed Seventh Sense, they wouldn't recognise his cosmo signature.
"Murderer! Leave this.." Spica's angry shout was halted by the crack of a whip which darted across his chest and knocked him off his feet. June faced him and her voice was flat and cold with a dangerous edge to it.
"Such a decision is not yours to make, Spica. As soon as I set foot on this island I resumed my
role as second to Albior. And I have not forgotten YOUR treachery."
Spica just glowered, but made no move to contradict her.
She faced the boat again "You are welcomed to the Isle, Milo. Join us by your own choice."
Shun frowned, that wasn't the standard response, no mention had been made of the Chain, but he said nothing. He also realised that he now technically out-ranked June, but felt it better to say nothing at the moment.
Milo landed lightly on the jetty. Spica and Reda stared at him in mute horror. No one said anything.
One more poisonous silence like this and I'll start screaming just to give myself something to listen to, thought Shun.
June spoke first, "Quarters will be prepared for you Milo. Shun, I thought you'd like your old hut, it's more or less still standing following..." She sent the sentence trail off. "If its all the same June, where is Albior? I'd like to pay my respects tonight, if I may."
"Of course. We buried him on the mountainside, you remember, the place he liked to meditate? It seemed appropriate and was relatively undamaged."
Shun set off, and as he left he could just make out Milo trying for conversation "An interesting greeting your... associate gave, what is its origin..?"
- - - - - - - -
Shun arrived at Albiors grave shortly afterwards. The space was a natural clearing, or had been when there had been trees left standing. The grave was simple, and his cloth chest was placed at the head, just behind a plain stone marker engraved with the words; Albior Silver Cepheus Saint 'The Chain shall be unbroken' He unstrapped his cloth chest and knelt beside the grave. He had fasted all day in preparation for the night ahead.
He could have demonstrated his powers as a sign of respect, but it would have seemed like showing off. He didn't even plan to wear his armour, Albior had known him longer as Shun than as the Andromeda Saint, so normal clothes seemed more suitable, black trousers with a dark blue shirt and black string tie were enough. What mattered was the spirit of the thing.
He had read of an ancient samurai tradition of a warrior holding his sword at arms length from dusk till dawn as a sign of fealty. The concept appealed to him, but he would add his own twist to it. He reached into his Cloth chest and pulled out the round-tipped chain of defence. Attaching the shackle to his wrist he knelt and held his arms straight out, with the chain resting on his upturned palms, the length hanging between his hands. He shortened the chain to a more manageable length, sending the remainder to the elsewhere dimension where his chains stayed until summoned.
He held his head high and started reciting a prayer to the dead, but in the end found silence more fitting to his mood, not an uncomfortable silence, but a comfortable peace, the only sound being the waves breaking on the cliffs.
He remembered his Master as a stern man, an unforgiving man, but one who had encouraged and brought out the best in him, who hadn't given up on the "weak link" Reda and the others had mocked, but who had made him stand up for his own beliefs, no matter what the cost.
How long he knelt there would have been hard to tell, the moon was high in the sky. Freezing cold winds blew off the sea, but he didn't shiver, he was too used to the temperature for that. His arms ached, but that was as it should be.
After a time he suddenly became aware of a sound and felt a faint stirring of a cosmo he knew he should recognise. Both sensations came from beside the grave and, opening his eyes, Shun was astonished at what he saw. The Cepeheus Cloth in its representational form was emerging from it's chest, glowing with a faint blue light.
Even more surprising was that his Cloth was doing the same, it's gleaming new appearance catching the moonlight. He hadn't even worn it yet, so his mental link to it was not fully re-established, though he could always hear it in the back of his mind.
Mu had promised the Bronze Saints that their cloths would be better than ever, as the surviving Gold Saints had contributed their cosmo enhanced blood to the reforging. Seiya and Shiryu had tried theirs on and appeared to be well pleased with the result, but Shun had sworn to himself that the Andromeda Saint would never wear his cloth without just cause and as yet, thankfully, nothing had come up.
He watched in awe as the glow around his cloth and the Cepheus cloth intensified. The chains were stirring, but the breeze was blowing in the other direction. A faint chiming could be heard echoing between the cloths, a subtle variation on the sound heard in Sanctuary when all twelve Gold Cloths had resonated with each other.
The chains from both cloths were extending, sliding across the grave towards each other, and Shuns Seventh Sense could detect a context that could only be described as "emotion" if it were applied to living things.
The chains met and the tips wrapped round each other. Shun could feel a contact taking place on the edge of his Seventh Sense, of a sort he had never felt before, but he could feel tears welling up in his eyes from the broadcast emotion.
He recalled the myth; Cepheus, a king torn by the actions of his vain wife Cassiopeia to offer his daughter up as a sacrifice or face the destruction of his kingdom, bound by chains of duty. Andromeda, his daughter who had been prepared to offer up her life in chains for the sake of her father and her people. The love between these two had been boundless and it seemed a portion of that love was reflected through the cloths that bore their name.
He felt the chain in his hand move too, the free end extending, rippling slightly as it pulled more length from elsewhere, touching the other chains where they met. The glow sped up the chain and into Shun, making him part of the circuit, a link in the a chain that spanned more than two thousand years.
For a moment he felt, directly, the fierceness of the love between father and daughter and the almost physical shock drove the breath from his body. He loved his friends and Saori, his bond to Ikki was even stronger, but this transcended that by orders of magnitude. This love had endured for millenia without interruption.
And through it all he felt other emotions, fragments of previous Cepheus and Andromeda Saints, slivers of himself in many ways. Not memories or thoughts, but feelings and emotions. Gradually fragments of another personality manifested itself through the link, Albior.
He felt that which he had long suspected, the love that Albior had felt for him but never spoken of, the pride he felt in Shun, for his strength of will in not giving in to violence and the respect for the vast power that lay within him.
He felt the respect that Albior had had even for Milo, a worthy opponent, it would have been a fitting end for a Saint, if the circumstances had not been contaminated with treachery. But Albiors spirit did not hold this against Milo, who had been bound by duty as much as any Saint, he had believed the Kyoko's words and acted accordingly, no less could be expected of a Gold Saint.
As an orphan Shun had never known what paternal love could feel like, and this near-sensation both delighted him and filled him with sorrow that he would never truly experience it again.
Desperate not to waste this chance, Shun fed back his love and respect for Albior into the glow, he fed back the memories of the deeds he had performed for Athena as the Andromeda Saint, the battles fought and the lives saved. Above all he fed back the knowledge that Athena had been saved and that Albior had had justice, his real killer, Aphrodite the treacherous Pisces Saint, had been defeated by Shun himself.
His feelings were tiny compared to the raw emotion flowing through the metal of the cloths, but he felt their acceptance by whatever part of Albior lived on in his cloth.
The glow faded and the chains fell back, inanimate once more.
Shun blinked, trying to put together everything he had felt into a coherent picture, but knowing that too much was involved for a mortal to fully comprehend. He had touched the souls of two beings who had been immortalised in the stars.
But he knew that he had done right by his Master, and that was sufficient. The feeling of well-being that filled him left him more at peace than he had felt since his brother had been restored to sanity and returned to him, months before.
Sunrise was coming. He returned the cloths to their chests, taking special care with the Cepheus cloth.
He left the clearing, knowing that there was nothing more that could be done here, knowing that there was nothing more that needed to be done. He set out for the huts.
He did puzzle over one feeling as he left, a sense of loss that both cloths had projected, a slight sense of incompleteness. It was only as he approached the huts that he realised what it might be... Albior had never told him what had happened to the Cassiopeia Cloth in this cycle of incarnations. This might be worth further investigation, when time allowed.
His Seventh Sense picked up cosmo manifesting up ahead, he knew both signatures immediately and started running.
From a cavern at the base of the cliff behind the clearing, whose entrance was concealed from all but the minutest examination, a figure emerged silently and watched Shun leave. Crimson coloured metal armour reflected the first rays of sunlight. Tears fell from the figures face onto a looking glass in its hand, a looking glass like a vain woman might carry...
A fanfic based on the world and characters of "Saint Seiya", created by and © Masami Kurumada. All rights to those characters are © Masami Kurumada, Toei Animation and probably a whole bunch of other people. Their use in this piece does not imply endorsement, approval or permission.
This story is set sometime between Sanctuary and the start of Asgard, about the only downtime from the start of Sanctuary to the end of Poseidon. I have taken the liberty of permitting Shun to use his second cloth before it's official debut, but I've minimised that as much as I could within the confines of the plot.
I couldn't think of a way around it, sorry to purists, call it an OAV if it makes you feel better, we all know how easily they fit into continuity. I've also used Albior rather than Daedalus (It was a coin toss, as the Cepheus Saint is dead either way it doesn't matter that much). Anyway, enjoy...
- - - - - - -
Chapter 1 â€" Chain Links
Shun stood on the deck of the boat and watched the Island come into view. At least the map bearings said it was the Island of Andromeda, but it looked very different from the last time he'd seen it from this angle. One whole side of the cliffs had fallen into the sea, the once extinct volcano's crater was smoking, and what little greenery there had been on the mountain had been wiped away like chalk off a blackboard.
He whirled at the sound of a soft footfall behind him, sunlight shining off armour making him reflexively reach for the chains on his wrists, then he smiled as he remembered his cloth was in it's chest beside him. "A little jumpy still?" The voice was quiet and amused.
Shun allowed himself a rueful smile in return, "Can you blame me, June?"
The Chameleon Saint was in full armour, her whip coiled at her waist. "Not really, a little paranoia is good for a Saint, no matter how many Gold Saints they may have bested. How are you feeling?". She put her arm around his shoulder, her face may have been hidden behind a mask, but he knew her well enough to feel the genuine concern.
The smile combined with a puzzled frown... "You tell me? Happy, regretful, scared, determined. I'm just my usual cute little bunch of self- contradictions. The only reason I ever wanted to come back to this place was to see Albior and you, but I didn't think it would be like this. I don't want to have to face this, but I know it's the right thing to do."
"I know what you mean, but I'm still not comfortable about HIM coming."
"Saori asked him to come, she felt it was appropriate."
He recalled the day of that particular meeting...
- - - - - - - -
They'd been out of hospital for a couple of days, and none of his fellow Saints had been in particularly conversational mood, not even his brother, though there had been a lot of meaningful silences in each others company. Talk would come, but not straightaway, too much had happened too quickly.
It had been Saori's idea for everyone to have a period of personal down- time; Shiryu had gone to visit Dhoko and ShunRei, Hyoga was out in Siberia somewhere doing his isolated loner bit, Seiya was spending some time with Miho and the kids at the orphanage. Ikki had done one of his vanishing acts, though, as always, he'd promised to return at a seconds notice should Shun or Saori need him.
They all had a lot of emotions to work through. But Shun had another matter to deal with, one that had been nagging at him since before they'd even left for Sanctuary. Saori had called him in to discuss it, but the conversation had not started well.
"No Saori-san, I won't do it."
The forceful tone obviously surprised Saori, which wasn't surprising at it surprised Shun too.
"Shun, I know that this is a lot to ask of you, but.."
"Saori, in battle there is nothing I wouldn't do for you, dammit you know that! This is a personal matter, and what I say goes!"
"Shun, you are the single most compassionate person I have ever met, and the most forgiving, I know this must be difficult for you, but please listen"
"Now, I could order you to obey me as the incarnation of Athena you have sworn to obey, whether in battle or not, but I won't. I respect you far too much for that, but I am asking you as a friend to think about what I am saying."
"Do you honestly believe for one moment that I would ask you to do something that I thought would harm you? I'd sooner die than cause any of you pain, you know that. This will benefit you, I promise you. What sort of an incarnation of the goddess of Wisdom and War would I be if I went around make bad judgement calls?". She risked a smile, "I'm not allowed to make mistakes like that, it's in my contract."
With an internal sigh of relief she saw Shun's frown lessen, this had been tougher than she had thought, though she could see his point, from one point of view. Actually she realised, she saw everything from every point of view and weigh them all up at the same time. That's what wisdom was as far as she could tell. Pondering which part of her personae THAT had come from, the spirit of Athena or a half remembered Readers Digest article, she turned her full attention to Shun again.
"Saori-san, when you phrase it like that it's hard to say no to you. I will do it, I sure as hell won't like it, but I will do it. I just wish it was anyone else but him."
"He has matters to deal with too, Shun, he was misled and his honour was sullied, he must make amends. I have ordered him to." She stressed the word to emphasise the difference in standing she accorded them.
"I just don't want to be the one to tell June about this. She'll go ballistic!"
"Hey, that's why I'm the goddess, I get all the fun jobs."
- - - - - - - -
"So we have arrived, it's been a while since I was here last and I can't say I had expected to see it again so soon."
Shun and June both turned at the deep, rich voice behind them.
The speaker was tall, with long purple hair falling almost to his waist, and dressed tastefully and expensively in a summer-weight suit, which didn't even seemed wrinkled by the cloth chest he carried on his back. Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint, was an imposing figure in or out of armour. Shun was grateful he wasn't in full armour, June might have perceived that as deliberately offensive.
"Yes, Milo-san", June's use of the honorific was almost insulting, "We return to the scene of your great battle." Shun elbowed her in the ribs as he leant down to pit on his cloth chest. Milo said nothing and all three turned to look at the island again, an uncomfortable silence between them.
Even after a week with him on a boat Shun still didn't know what to make of Milo. He was certainly not what he had expected of the assassin of the Gold Saints, who had been a whispered legend to them till only a few weeks ago.
Milo had actually proved to be charming company; intelligent, literate, coversant on a wide range of topics and even a good cook, as he had demonstrated on the boat. But he was always preoccupied, and Shun had noticed that his eyes often shifted into what he had dubbed "scanning mode", surveying his surroundings for entrances and exits, weapons and obstacles, assessing everyone around him as possible opponents. It was obviously the trademark of his vocation; an automatic assumption of danger.
The boats crew ate his food and laughed at his jokes, but didn't like to spend time around him. June refused to even take meals with him. Shun had forced himself to spend time with him, as Saori had requested, and found himself more confused than ever.
The boat came around the ruined remains of a jetty just as the sun was setting. Two figures were at the head of a small group standing there, and Shun recognised them immediately.
"Spica and Reda? They returned here?"
June nodded, "All the pupils who survived elected to remain here for the present. Where else did they have to go?"
Shun had to agree, but was less than happy that the two were wearing their self-styled Cloths. They had no ranking in the Saints of Athena, manifested no cosmo and appeared to have made their cloths themselves, twisted versions of the Andromeda Cloth they had sought, and failed, to win.
Spica called out to the boat; "Who approaches the Isle of Andromeda? State now thy name and purpose". The Greek dialect was old and stiffly formal, clearly a long standing tradition.
June, almost against her will, turned to Milo, who as ranking Saint, had the right to be identified first. He shook his head and gestured for her to take the lead. She called out to the shore "June, Bronze Chameleon Saint, to honour her Master."
"You are welcomed to the Isle, Chameleon Saint. Advance and strengthen the links of the Chain."
Shun stood forward. "Shun, Bronze Andromeda Saint, to honour his Master and pay final respects".
Spica and Reda at least had the courtesy to looked embarrassed, the last time they had met they had attempted to kill Shun, but Spica repeated the formal welcome, though Reda rubbed self consciously at a half healed scar on his cheek.
Both June and Shun leapt easily to the shore.
Mile stood forward, "Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint. To repay a debt of honour to a fallen comrade who was ill done by."
The small group on the shore looked stunned and Shun realised they had never seen the Saint out of armour, and without a developed Seventh Sense, they wouldn't recognise his cosmo signature.
"Murderer! Leave this.." Spica's angry shout was halted by the crack of a whip which darted across his chest and knocked him off his feet. June faced him and her voice was flat and cold with a dangerous edge to it.
"Such a decision is not yours to make, Spica. As soon as I set foot on this island I resumed my
role as second to Albior. And I have not forgotten YOUR treachery."
Spica just glowered, but made no move to contradict her.
She faced the boat again "You are welcomed to the Isle, Milo. Join us by your own choice."
Shun frowned, that wasn't the standard response, no mention had been made of the Chain, but he said nothing. He also realised that he now technically out-ranked June, but felt it better to say nothing at the moment.
Milo landed lightly on the jetty. Spica and Reda stared at him in mute horror. No one said anything.
One more poisonous silence like this and I'll start screaming just to give myself something to listen to, thought Shun.
June spoke first, "Quarters will be prepared for you Milo. Shun, I thought you'd like your old hut, it's more or less still standing following..." She sent the sentence trail off. "If its all the same June, where is Albior? I'd like to pay my respects tonight, if I may."
"Of course. We buried him on the mountainside, you remember, the place he liked to meditate? It seemed appropriate and was relatively undamaged."
Shun set off, and as he left he could just make out Milo trying for conversation "An interesting greeting your... associate gave, what is its origin..?"
- - - - - - - -
Shun arrived at Albiors grave shortly afterwards. The space was a natural clearing, or had been when there had been trees left standing. The grave was simple, and his cloth chest was placed at the head, just behind a plain stone marker engraved with the words; Albior Silver Cepheus Saint 'The Chain shall be unbroken' He unstrapped his cloth chest and knelt beside the grave. He had fasted all day in preparation for the night ahead.
He could have demonstrated his powers as a sign of respect, but it would have seemed like showing off. He didn't even plan to wear his armour, Albior had known him longer as Shun than as the Andromeda Saint, so normal clothes seemed more suitable, black trousers with a dark blue shirt and black string tie were enough. What mattered was the spirit of the thing.
He had read of an ancient samurai tradition of a warrior holding his sword at arms length from dusk till dawn as a sign of fealty. The concept appealed to him, but he would add his own twist to it. He reached into his Cloth chest and pulled out the round-tipped chain of defence. Attaching the shackle to his wrist he knelt and held his arms straight out, with the chain resting on his upturned palms, the length hanging between his hands. He shortened the chain to a more manageable length, sending the remainder to the elsewhere dimension where his chains stayed until summoned.
He held his head high and started reciting a prayer to the dead, but in the end found silence more fitting to his mood, not an uncomfortable silence, but a comfortable peace, the only sound being the waves breaking on the cliffs.
He remembered his Master as a stern man, an unforgiving man, but one who had encouraged and brought out the best in him, who hadn't given up on the "weak link" Reda and the others had mocked, but who had made him stand up for his own beliefs, no matter what the cost.
How long he knelt there would have been hard to tell, the moon was high in the sky. Freezing cold winds blew off the sea, but he didn't shiver, he was too used to the temperature for that. His arms ached, but that was as it should be.
After a time he suddenly became aware of a sound and felt a faint stirring of a cosmo he knew he should recognise. Both sensations came from beside the grave and, opening his eyes, Shun was astonished at what he saw. The Cepeheus Cloth in its representational form was emerging from it's chest, glowing with a faint blue light.
Even more surprising was that his Cloth was doing the same, it's gleaming new appearance catching the moonlight. He hadn't even worn it yet, so his mental link to it was not fully re-established, though he could always hear it in the back of his mind.
Mu had promised the Bronze Saints that their cloths would be better than ever, as the surviving Gold Saints had contributed their cosmo enhanced blood to the reforging. Seiya and Shiryu had tried theirs on and appeared to be well pleased with the result, but Shun had sworn to himself that the Andromeda Saint would never wear his cloth without just cause and as yet, thankfully, nothing had come up.
He watched in awe as the glow around his cloth and the Cepheus cloth intensified. The chains were stirring, but the breeze was blowing in the other direction. A faint chiming could be heard echoing between the cloths, a subtle variation on the sound heard in Sanctuary when all twelve Gold Cloths had resonated with each other.
The chains from both cloths were extending, sliding across the grave towards each other, and Shuns Seventh Sense could detect a context that could only be described as "emotion" if it were applied to living things.
The chains met and the tips wrapped round each other. Shun could feel a contact taking place on the edge of his Seventh Sense, of a sort he had never felt before, but he could feel tears welling up in his eyes from the broadcast emotion.
He recalled the myth; Cepheus, a king torn by the actions of his vain wife Cassiopeia to offer his daughter up as a sacrifice or face the destruction of his kingdom, bound by chains of duty. Andromeda, his daughter who had been prepared to offer up her life in chains for the sake of her father and her people. The love between these two had been boundless and it seemed a portion of that love was reflected through the cloths that bore their name.
He felt the chain in his hand move too, the free end extending, rippling slightly as it pulled more length from elsewhere, touching the other chains where they met. The glow sped up the chain and into Shun, making him part of the circuit, a link in the a chain that spanned more than two thousand years.
For a moment he felt, directly, the fierceness of the love between father and daughter and the almost physical shock drove the breath from his body. He loved his friends and Saori, his bond to Ikki was even stronger, but this transcended that by orders of magnitude. This love had endured for millenia without interruption.
And through it all he felt other emotions, fragments of previous Cepheus and Andromeda Saints, slivers of himself in many ways. Not memories or thoughts, but feelings and emotions. Gradually fragments of another personality manifested itself through the link, Albior.
He felt that which he had long suspected, the love that Albior had felt for him but never spoken of, the pride he felt in Shun, for his strength of will in not giving in to violence and the respect for the vast power that lay within him.
He felt the respect that Albior had had even for Milo, a worthy opponent, it would have been a fitting end for a Saint, if the circumstances had not been contaminated with treachery. But Albiors spirit did not hold this against Milo, who had been bound by duty as much as any Saint, he had believed the Kyoko's words and acted accordingly, no less could be expected of a Gold Saint.
As an orphan Shun had never known what paternal love could feel like, and this near-sensation both delighted him and filled him with sorrow that he would never truly experience it again.
Desperate not to waste this chance, Shun fed back his love and respect for Albior into the glow, he fed back the memories of the deeds he had performed for Athena as the Andromeda Saint, the battles fought and the lives saved. Above all he fed back the knowledge that Athena had been saved and that Albior had had justice, his real killer, Aphrodite the treacherous Pisces Saint, had been defeated by Shun himself.
His feelings were tiny compared to the raw emotion flowing through the metal of the cloths, but he felt their acceptance by whatever part of Albior lived on in his cloth.
The glow faded and the chains fell back, inanimate once more.
Shun blinked, trying to put together everything he had felt into a coherent picture, but knowing that too much was involved for a mortal to fully comprehend. He had touched the souls of two beings who had been immortalised in the stars.
But he knew that he had done right by his Master, and that was sufficient. The feeling of well-being that filled him left him more at peace than he had felt since his brother had been restored to sanity and returned to him, months before.
Sunrise was coming. He returned the cloths to their chests, taking special care with the Cepheus cloth.
He left the clearing, knowing that there was nothing more that could be done here, knowing that there was nothing more that needed to be done. He set out for the huts.
He did puzzle over one feeling as he left, a sense of loss that both cloths had projected, a slight sense of incompleteness. It was only as he approached the huts that he realised what it might be... Albior had never told him what had happened to the Cassiopeia Cloth in this cycle of incarnations. This might be worth further investigation, when time allowed.
His Seventh Sense picked up cosmo manifesting up ahead, he knew both signatures immediately and started running.
From a cavern at the base of the cliff behind the clearing, whose entrance was concealed from all but the minutest examination, a figure emerged silently and watched Shun leave. Crimson coloured metal armour reflected the first rays of sunlight. Tears fell from the figures face onto a looking glass in its hand, a looking glass like a vain woman might carry...