End of Innocence

Chapter Thirteen: Gemini, Part Two

The small house stood amidst the ruins on the outskirts of Sanctuary proper, distant enough for most of inhabitants to be unaware of its existence and yet still be within Athena's protections. Once, this area had been bustling with activity, full of Saints and potentials and guards, life and hope and dreams. But time and war had taken its toll, and with the destruction left in the wake of the previous Holy War, Shion had been left with no choice but to abandon certain aspects of Sanctuary in order to focus their limited resources on rebuilding others.

Shion's chest grew tight as he stood at the top of the crudely constructed staircase that connected the shattered pathway; this section hadn't always been two levels, but at one point the ground had shifted and the road had collapsed upon itself. The staircase had been a haphazard, rushed and ramshackle construction, necessary to access the lower portion for urgencies alone and only minimally maintained, created back when Teneo had convinced Shion that they needed to at least have access to the lower portion, even if they never made any use of it – for surveying purposes if nothing else.

Shion had never honestly imagined that he'd – or anyone else – would have to use this staircase o the house that it led to again, and it left him unsettled. Knowing that it was on his authority that this small dwelling was currently in use left a bad taste in his mouth, but he hadn't seen any other option at the time. The laws regarding the Gemini were ancient, and although the events leading to their creation were lost in the annals of history, Shion knew all too well the consequences of breaking them. He had no choice.

Even if the look on Kanon's face when he'd told the boy that he had to leave the Gemini Temple had nearly broken his heart.

As Grand Master, Shion had made several decisions over the long decades that never sat well with him; separating the twins, even if it wasn't permanent and he didn't forbid them from seeing each other, had been one of the hardest. He'd even gone to Dohko for counsel, but they'd been unable to come up with a better solution. The truth of the matter was that as they drew ever closer to Athena's rebirth, more Cloths were awakening at a rapid rate, more Saints were being selected, and with the added number of Cosmos-sensitive residents in Sanctuary it would become harder to conceal Kanon's presence even with Saga being used as his cover. Saga had argued with him emphatically over the matter, demanding to know why it would be an issue for other Saints to know he had a twin, until Shion had finally had no choice but to tell him the hard truth - that it wasn't their allies that Kanon needed to be concealed from, but their enemies.

The Gemini Saints had always been – and deep inside Shion feared always would be – the greatest vulnerability of the Saints of Athena.

Shion didn't know if he'd be able to keep such dark moments from happening again, but he was determined to do one thing right – to view the shadow twin as a person, not as a shame. He had every intention, had always intended, to find a way to bring Kanon out of the shadows and make his existence not only known but accepted. It was a thought that had occurred to him periodically over the past, whenever he found himself thinking of the tragedies of his generation – but his determination had cemented itself that day he had found himself wandering through a London neighborhood and his eyes had landed on the twins huddled together on a townhouse stoop for the first time. It was one thing to think in abstract terms when the subjects were out of sight, and an entirely impossible matter when you were face-to-face with a pair of four-year-olds staring at you like they didn't know if they should take your hand or bite it.

There'd been a part of himself that had wanted to walk away that day, to pretend he had never found them. To give them, perhaps, a chance at growing up with a normal life. And yet even as toddlers he'd felt the heat of their Cosmos searing his own. If they'd been that strong then, untrained, leaving them behind would have only meant leaving them unprotected. Hades wasn't the only enemy of Athena, and not all of the others were bound by an ancient cycle of time.

The twins had been the first, and they held a special place in his heart that was rivaled only by Mu. The twins had needed him, needed both what he could teach them and the support that he could offer. Those first few years had been peaceful and bright, and he had enjoyed watching Saga and Kanon learn and grow together. He had almost been able to forget that things could not remain that way forever – until the day that the Gemini Cloth had chosen its bearer, and the die had been cast.

It had been one of the most heart-wrenching decisions that he had ever had to make as Grand Master, knowing that the choice was out of his hands, that he could do nothing to change fate. The night before the claiming he had prayed that the Cloth would choose Kanon, that somehow that might be all that was needed to sever the cycle of darkness that had plagued the Geminis across countless lifetimes. Foolish hopes – if it were as simple as that, the curse wouldn't have been such a concern. He had known, even before the Cloth had woken and found its chosen, what the outcome would be.

And so instead he'd turned his attention towards the combined task of both preparing Saga for the inevitable war and protecting Kanon in the shadows. He knew that the younger twin didn't fully understand the sudden necessity of his concealment; Shion had already taken precautions, knowing that eventually one twin would have to be hidden, but it was only after Saga ascended to the rank of Gold Saint that Kanon was forced into near isolation. Near, because he refused to follow the ancient practice of separating the twins completely. Beyond a shadow of a doubt he was certain that such a separation would only do them more harm than good.

He was no fool, though; he knew that no human could survive in this world being isolated so completely from others, and here he had enlisted Dohko's help on more than one occasion. While within the boundaries of Sanctuary Kanon was restricted to only certain places at certain times – restrictions which became more severe as the twins grew older and Saga had to make more frequent trips to the outside world – at Mount Rozan the twins had had acres of forest and mountains to explore without fear of anyone stumbling across them and understanding the implications. The village that bordered the peaks wasn't like Rodario; to their knowledge Dohko was nothing more than a well-renowned instructor of martial arts, the training grounds merely his school. They knew nothing of Sanctuary, nothing of Saints or Athena, and so when the twins would visit, they merely smiled and indulged their young visitors.

Shion closed his eyes for a moment, his chest suddenly tight. Those visits to Mount Rozan had never failed to bring a smile to Kanon's face, but they – like so much – had become more and more infrequent, and those smiles harder and harder to find. He could not, in fact, recall the last time he had seen Kanon seem genuinely happy outside of Saga's presence, and the darkness in his eyes had only grown more profound with the passage of time.

Had he, in trying so hard to protect one brother, inadvertently doomed the other?

Shion gave a sharp shake of his head and opened his eyes, squaring his shoulders and making his way down the path to the stonework cottage. He would not believe that. It was not one or the other for him; Saga and Kanon shared a soul, but they were each their own person, unique and brilliant in their own ways. He was as proud of Kanon's accomplishments as he was of Saga's. Losing either of them would break his heart, and he worried too often that the younger Gemini didn't realize this.

Through the windows he could see the faintest glow of lanternlight, but it was otherwise silent within. It had been over two months since Kanon had been confined to this small dwelling in this forgotten corner of Sanctuary, and a week since Saga had been sent from Sanctuary on the mission to see the Pisces and Taurus potentials brought safely from their training grounds. Without Saga's Cosmo to mask Kanon's he had no choice but to remain confined here, within the small sphere of mental influence that Shion had created to shield him, leaving Kanon in complete isolation. Shion had intended to visit him sooner…

Intentions could only go so far.

He paused in front of the door and listened for a moment, then reached up and knocked gently. He listened again and still heard nothing more, and just as he was about to reach for the doorknob and let himself in, he heard the sound of the lock turning. The door opened slightly, and a pair of teal eyes stared at him for a long moment through the crack.

"…Shi-Grand Master?" The hesitation in his voice and the stumble between Shion's name and title paired with the lost light in Kanon's eyes made Shion's heart ache.

"Hello, Kanon," Shion said with a soft – and hopefully reassuring – smile. "I apologize for the late intrusion – may I come in?"

There was another hesitation, uncertainty rolling off of the youth in waves. The twins had a strong natural psychic talent in addition to a powerful Cosmos, and as he had with Mu, Shion had personally trained them on their mental shielding from a very young age. Saga tended to be more lax with his shields, but Kanon kept his habitually tight, an ingrained habit that went along with the suppression of his Cosmo. That his emotions were leaking through now solidified the fact that Shion should have visited far sooner.

Kanon stepped back, disappearing from view for a moment before as he moved to the side and pulled the door open further to allow Shion entrance. The first thing Shion did was scan the room, and he was relieved to find that at the very least Kanon appeared to have been taking care of himself well enough. The room was tidy, the kitchen was clean, and it looked as if before Shion had arrived he'd been sitting in a chair near the wood stove reading a book, judging by the volume turned upside down on the table next to the only lantern. There was a low fire crackling in the stove, heating the room just enough to be comfortable, and in corner the single bed appeared to be neartly made.

"Don't worry," Kanon murmured as he firmly closed the door behind them. "I haven't fallen into the dark abyss just because I haven't seen my brother in a week, if that's why you came to find out."

Shion started at the abrupt statement and immediately turned to face him. "I did come to see how you were doing," Shion admitted, because he knew better than to deny it; of the two, Kanon possessed the greater talent for calling people's bluffs. Shion had learned this from rather painful and embarrassing experience. "And to tell you that Saga has arrived at the Brazilian Training Grounds safely, and will return here once he ascertains the status of the Taurus Saint potential there – all told, he'll probably be back in three more days."

Kanon stilled, his hand resting on the knob of the closed door. His hair fell over his face, obscuring his expression from Shion's view; slowly he withdrew his hand and lifted his head to give Shion a smile tightly tinged with relief. "Glad to hear it," he said. "But even if the potentials he picked up actually get chosen, that still leaves you down, what… two more Gold Saints? He's going to have to go out again, isn't he?"

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," Shion replied. He unclasped the cloak wrapped around his shoulders and draped it over his arm. There was a couch as well as the armchair in the small sitting area; Shion had at the very least made that Kanon would be comfortable while he had to remain in this place. "it depends on when and how we locate the Capricorn and Cancer potentials. It could be that either Aiolos or myself would be better suited to the retrieval, or perhaps they'll find their way to us on their own." He met Kanon's eyes and held his gaze, motioning to the other chair and watching as Kanon lowered himself into it with obvious hesitation. "I'm not trying to separate the two of you, Kanon. I would never do such a thing. I hope you know that."

Kanon carded his fingers through his hair. "Of course I know that," he said tightly. "I assure you that the thought never once occurred to me, Grand Master. You've explained and stressed the necessity of this to both of us for years, and we understand."

"Just because you understand it doesn't mean that it gets any easier," Shion said gently. "And all of this is only temporary. Once the Gold Saints have been assembled and the Sanctuary secure, Athena will be able to take her rightful place within her temple and there will no longer be a need for you to use the shadows as your shield. Bear with it just a bit longer, Kanon. You are Saga's greatest support – he relies on you in ways that he does no one else." He took a deep breath. "And he's going to need that support in the coming months - more than ever."

"More than ever?" Alarm flashed in Kanon's eyes. "What do you mean? Is something going to happen?"

Shion folded his hands in his lap, his expression growing serious. "Once Athena's arrival at Sanctuary occurs, it will mark the beginning of the next Holy War cycle," he said. "This is ordained and cannot be diverted; we can only do what we can do to prepare for the inevitable battle. As Gemini Saint – "

"Saga will be on the frontlines," Kanon finished. He absently began to twist strands of his hair around his fingers. "I know about the Holy War, but… it can't be that soon, Grand Master, can it? The Holy War occurs every, what, two hundred years? Athena hasn't even been reborn yet, the War can't possibly happen before she comes of age." He stared at Shion. "Can it?"

Shion sighed. "I wish that I could say no," he confessed, "but that knowledge is beyond even me. Athena's fate may be tied to the Holy War, but that is not necessarily the case for her reincarnation cycle. When the Holy War commences she will be alive… and that is all we know."

"Meaning that she could still be a child the next time Hades rises," Kanon realized. "And the other Gold Saints…"

"Could also still be children," Shion confirmed. "It is the unfortunate burden of the Saints of Athena; during the eras of peace we can afford to guide the potentials slowly, but during the eras of war the Cloths can, will, choose the best to bear them, regardless of their age. If the Holy War comes sooner rather than later, Kanon, then Saga and Aiolos will not merely be on the frontlines – they will be commanding the fight."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kanon blurted out. "Saga's the Gemini Saint, not me!" He forcibly pushed himself up from the chair, his sudden spike of anxiety escaping his shields and slamming into Shion's own. Shion deflected it, then reached out the brush his shield against Kanon's, projecting soothing into the opening. Kanon didn't break stride as he paced around the small room, but his fidgeting lessened, his Cosmo became less chaotic, and Shion withdrew before Kanon realized that he was there.

"The bond you and Saga share runs deeper than that of most twins, Kanon," Shion gently replied. He chose his words carefully, monitoring Kanon closely; he didn't want to set him off again in case of another burst. "It exists on a metaphysical level – the line between the two of you is blurred to a degree most cannot fathom. You ground each other." He took a deep breath. "Do you remember what I told you before, when you and Saga first began your training? About the nature of it?"

Kanon made a sound of frustration and stopped pacing, then went back to the chair and threw himself into it with far less grace than he had the first time. "Yeah, I remember," he said. "Our abilities are psychic in nature, which is why you had to train us in psychic shielding before you let us actually train our Cosmos."

"And?"

"And, they're not just psychic in nature, they're offensively psychic. Unlike you Aries Saints, who specialize in psychic defense, when our Cosmos is heightened Saga and I have the potential to actually manipulate and alter minds. I know all of this, Shion, and so does Saga. Why are you making me recite it all like some kind of bloody text book?"

"Because you asked me a question, Kanon, and it's one that you already have the answer to." Shion gave him a look that spoke of infinite patience. "What else did I tell you about your particular brand of psychic prowess?"

Kanon gave him a look of pure frustration. "That it's got downsides, which is why Saga and I can't just go around manipulating the mindsets of anyone we come across who pisses us off. Not that we would, but hey, I can see why you'd want to caution a couple of four year olds who haven't quite gotten the grasp of morals. Of course, there was the side of effect of scaring the hell out of us. You do realize we didn't sleep for a month after that?"

Shion raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling up in the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, so that part might be an exaggeration." Kanon's frustration turned to irritation. "Don't do that, Shion. Fine; I'll play. Every time we connect with another mind, the metaphysical boundaries of our own becomes blurred. Using actual manipulation causes this to intensify. Doi this too much or too frequently and the damage can prove to be irreparable. Our minds could literally become lost on the metaphysical plane and unable to be retrieved."

"Unless there is someone to ground you or bring you back," Shion finished. "I told you this when the Gemini Cloth made its choice, and I will tell it to you again. You are that lifeline for Saga. When the Holy War begins Saga's strength will be needed more than ever, and you will be the force that keeps him going." He looked straight into Kanon's eyes. "Many years ago I asked you to take on this heavy burden, and you agreed without hesitation. Now we are at this moment, and I ask you again - are you prepared to dedicate your life to your brother, Kanon? Can you stand behind him, support him, and protect him when the time comes – even at risk of yourself?"

Kanon's eyes flashed with indignation. "Of course, I can," he snapped. "He's my brother. He's the one constant thing in my entire world, and I would sooner die than lose him. I made a promise, and I do not go back on my promises." He clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times, a war of thoughts playing out on his face. "But I don't want to just…stand by and watch. If war is coming, Shion, I want to help. You said that once Athena is here I won't have to hide anymore. I want more than that." His expression grew anxious, earnest, pleading as he leaned forward, the fabric of his pants legs bunching up in his clenched hands. "Saga and I aren't the first twins to be taken in by Sanctuary. Your predecessor, Cancer Sage, had a twin brother who also served as a Silver Saint during the 16th Century Holy War."

"Altair Hakurei; yes, I know of him," Shion said with a nod, his chest tightening as he thought about his own beloved master. That Altair Hakurei had survived the war and retired to serve as the Master of Jamir while Sage went on to become the next Pope of Sanctuary was a lesser known fact, and one that not been recorded in the histories of the next War. The wisest thing to do would have been to expunge him from the histories completely, but Shion had not been able to bring himself to do so; it felt too much like denying his master's existence entirely. Hakurei had forsworn his own name and identity when he had assumed Sage's, and Shion could not allowed the little that remained of him to vanish. He had to fight himself to keep from cutting off Kanon before he spoke again; he knew what the young Gemini was going to ask next, and he knew what answer he would have to give.

"I want to serve as a Saint of Athena," Kanon said. "I don't care if it's not as a Gold Saint; Silver or Bronze will do. I want a chance to be chosen by another Cloth, so that I can fight at my brother's side, not stand behind him in the shadows." He looked at Shion with earnest hope. "I know the Cloths choose and not the other way around, but please, Shion – I just want the chance."

Silence stretched between them, and with each passing second Shion could see the disappointment and distress darkening Kanon's eyes. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Kanon," Shion murmured. "There is no Silver or Bronze Cloth that would accept you because another Cloth has already laid claim on you. The Gemini Cloth."

Kanon jerked back as though he'd been electrocuted. "But…!"

Shion held up his hand and Kanon fell silent. "Cancer Sage and Altair Hakurei were twins, yes, but they were guided by two different stars and possessed two very different sources of power – Hakurei could no more be the Cancer Saint than Sage be Altair. The same cannot be said of you and Saga. Your Cosmo and the abilities that develop through it – they come from the same source." He looked pained. "I wanted to spare you this, Kanon, because I feared it would only serve to cause you pain – but the truth is that the Gemini Cloth didn't just choose your brother. It chose you both. It wanted you both. But it is incapable of separating itself into two Cloths, and so it was forced to pick one of you over the other. It chose Saga to bear it, and you to bear Saga."

The light had faded completely from Kanon's eyes. "So what you're saying is that the only way for me to become a Saint and fight for Athena… is if my brother is no longer able to be the Gemini Saint," Kanon said dully.

If Saga died.

"I'm sorry," Shion repeated softly.

He watched as Kanon brought his hands up and lowered his head to rest in them, his fingers burying into his thick mane of teal hair, the only true difference between the otherwise perfectly identical twins – hair just a few shades lighter than Saga's own, so subtle that only those who knew them as well as Shion would be able to notice. Shion half-rose from his chair and reached out to place his hand on Kanon's shoulder, but before he could Kanon straightened up, pulling out of Shion's reach.

"Thanks for stopping by to see me, Grand Master," Kanon said, his tone has schooled in calm as his expression. "If you don't mind, though, I think I'd like to turn in early. I have training to complete in the morning."

The last thing that Shion wanted to do was leave Kanon alone, but Kanon was fifteen and fully capable of making his own decisions – and if one of those decisions was that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, then Shion would not deny him that. "Of course," he said, rising fully to his feet. "If you need to talk…"

Kanon cut him off. "Three days? Until Saga comes home?"

Shion gave a slight nod. "Three days."

"Thank you." Kanon turned his head to the side, fixing his gaze on the red coals that could be seen through the slats in the door of the wood stove. When Shion tentatively reached out to test Kanon's mental barrier, he found that the earlier break in it was sealed tight, and no further cracks could be found.

"Good night, Kanon," Shion said at last. He swept his cloak around his shoulders and fastened it into place. As he let himself out and closed the door quietly behind him, Kanon remained unmoving, his face lit by the soft red glow of fire.

The sound of the shutting door echoed through the single room, the crackle and pop of the coals in the fire cacophonously loud in the silence left behind in Shion's wake. Kanon listened, straining his ears for the footfalls of his master as they receded, and didn't move until they had faded entirely.

Only then did he lean forward, elbows resting on knees, and one more lower his head into his hands.

When he'd read the history of the twins Sage and Hakurei, hope had flared within him – the hope that maybe he'd found a way to finally stand on equal footing with Saga. A way for him to step out of the shadows that he'd lived in all his life and stand beside his twin, instead of behind him. He had the same training that Saga did; they'd trained under Shion side by side, and even after the Gemini Cloth had chosen his brother and Kanon could no longer train openly, Saga had continued to ensure that he remained on the same level as his brother. Yet even though he had continued to match Saga in technique and ability, he had never quite been able to shake the feeling of inferiority born of being second best.

Worse than finding out that even a Silver Cloth was out of his reach was finding out the reason why. In the six years since he and Saga had knelt before the dormant Gemini Cloth and their fates had been decided, it had never occurred to Kanon that the Cloth had claimed two masters that day… but could only allow itself to be worn by one. Shion didn't need to spell it out for Kanon to understand.

For Kanon to realize that the only way for him to become a Saint in truth…would be at the cost of Saga's life.

The thought alone sent a shudder through him. He knew the dangers of being a Saint; Shion had never sugarcoated it for them, and despite bringing them to Sanctuary at the age of four and immediately throwing them into training, the final choice – the decision of whether or not this was what they wanted to dedicate their lives to – had been theirs alone. They'd known the risks, the dangers. They knew that at some point in their generation Hades would rise again, forcing them into a war between gods and possibly resulting in one or both of their deaths. Kanon had tried not to dwell on that possibility and the few times he had, it had been with the thought that he would protect Saga – that if one of them had to die, it would be him. Now he was being told that the only way he would ever find himself on that battlefield would be if his brother's life had already been lost. The thought alone made his stomach twist with nausea, his chest growing so tight that it became hard to breathe.

For as long as Kanon could remember, Saga had always been there for him. He'd looked out for him, defended him from bullies, stayed with him when he was sick; a strong, silent presence at Kanon's side. As children Kanon had idolized Saga; as teenagers, there was no one he loved nor respected more than his twin. When Saga had been chosen to be the Gemini Saint, Kanon had sworn to himself that when the time came and Saga's life was in danger, he would be right there beside him – to sacrifice himself in his brother's place, to save a life worth so much more than his own.

If he couldn't believe in that… what point was there to even existing?

"Saga would be furious if he knew I was thinking like this," Kanon whispered. He lifted his head and pushed his hands through his hair, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. Saga was his world, and he knew he held the same place in his brother's heart. If Saga knew that he was having these thoughts, he'd tear them apart until every doubt was erased.

Until Saga had to return to the Temple, and Kanon was alone again.

"Tsk. Such melancholy. Your brother really would be disappointed if he could see what's going on inside your head right now."

Kanon froze, hands half-buried in his hair as his gaze swept the darkened living room, the flames from the reading lamp beside his chair casting dancing shadows over the walls. At first glance the room appeared empty – then the shadows seemed to shift, twisting and twining, forming a humanoid shape that then detached itself from the wall, the tall, wiry figure separating himself as if he'd grown from the very shadows themselves.

Kanon shuddered at the sight of the man, the dark, shaggy hair, the scruff of mustache and goatee, the eyes that appeared devoid of both life and soul. The look of them was an extreme contrast between the mocking curl of thin lips that twisted across his face. The casual way that he stood on the opposite of the room from Kanon only made the foreboding air that his presence brought into the cabin more intense and unsettling.

Kanon drew in a sharp breath. "You don't exist," he said abruptly, sitting up straight and slamming back against the wooden rails of the chair back. "You shouldn't be here."

"Because I'm a 'figment of your imagination'?" The shadow man chuckled, flashing a bright, toothy grin that stood out in the darkness. "Poor, poor deluded young Gemini. How hard you struggle to tell yourself these things in the desperate hope that they might prove to be true." He moved closer, casually leaning against the back of the chair that Shion had vacated only moments before. "If I were you, however, I'd rather hope I wasn't just a portent of your distressed mind. Otherwise that would make you, well…" He smirked, and a cruel spark appeared in his eyes. "Crazy."

"I'm not crazy." Kanon's voice was sharpened with an edge of warning.

"Oo – did I strike a nerve?" The smirk did not abate, its wearer taking clear joy in Kanon's obvious discomfort. "So sorry. But then, I'm not the one who rifled through things he shouldn't have and discovered parts best left undisturbed."

"Be quiet!" Kanon shot to his feet, pacing across the room, keeping to his side of the cabin in an effort to maintain distance between himself and his uninvited guest. He shoved his hands through his hair again in agitation, pushing the long mane back from his face, then crossed his arms over his chest and tapping his fingers rapidly against his elbows.

"Hmm; now, there's a good question," his-the shadow mused. "If you tell me to be quiet and I keep talking, does that prove I'm not part of your mind? Or does it mean that you're so far gone that you don't even have the mental capacity to control an aspect of your own personality? If I were more of a learned man I might know the answer, but… alas." He tilted his head to the side, regarding Kanon out of the corner of his eye. "We could always ask that master of yours. He seems like he might be well versed in the inner workings of someone's head."

Kanon spun on his heel, eyes flashing. "Leave Shion out of this!" he said angrily.

"Is that defensiveness I hear?" The shadow laughed, a tittering sound caught somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle, a pitched sound that set every hair on the back of Kanon's neck on end. "Tsk, tsk. Such loyalty your master commands from you. Even after he confines you to this place, to these four crumbling walls that are part of Sanctuary and yet not. He tells you it is for your safety, and yet one must ask – what are you being kept safe from?"

Kanon dug his nails into his arms, leaving half-moon impressions in his skin; small red drops welled up around the deepest of them. "Shion's never wanted anything but the best for me and Saga," he said. "He took us in when we were children. He gave us a home, a life, a purpose. Don't you dare hint that he might have anything but the best of intentions for us!"

"Are you trying to convince me, or are you trying to convince yourself?" His shadow quirked an eyebrow. "Come on now, Kanon. You were young, but you weren't so young that you don't remember. You and your brother had a home. Shion didn't give that to you – he took it from you.

"It wasn't much of a life, I'll give you that. A small flat in a rundown part of London, days spent with a neighbor who paid far more attention to her own children's needs than yours while your father worked long hours in an attempt to provide for his family." The shadow began to move around the room as well, mimicking Kanon's pacing with slow, deliberate steps, as if he were a prowling jungle cat. "But it was a life, nonetheless. It was your life. Then one day along comes a man, a veritable stranger, who takes one look at you and your brother and decides that he must take the two of you back to Greece with him. And despite the fact that no sane parent would ever agree to give their young children over to a complete stranger, one who claims that he can help you reach your full potential as a Saint – your father somehow agrees to this. Have you never wondered about this? Have you never thought that something might be odd about this tale?"

"Shut up!" Kanon leapt to his feet and snatched up the nearest object, launching it across the room at the shadow. It passed through and crashed into the opposite wall, the force of the throw extinguishing the flame as the shattered remnants fell to the ground, plunging the room into darkness. Kanon froze, standing there in the darkness, breathing heavily in the silence. He wrapped his arms around himself, closing his eyes and trying to ease the trembling in his body.

His shadow was wrong. He vaguely recalled their father, a handsome man, widowed too young and trying desperately to provide for twin boys that he was unable to support. He'd done his best for them, but his best had involved working impossibly long hours, leaving his sons in the care of a neighborhood with too many children of her and barely making enough to put food on the table. Kanon had never been able to recall exactly what it was that had drawn Shion's attention to them – but he knew that their father hadn't simply given them over to Shion just to be rid of them. He knew it.

Then why have you never been allowed to visit him? The voice whispered in the back of Kanon's mind, causing a full-bodied shudder to spread through him. He'd asked Saga that same question once, and his brother had deflected it with a simply assurance that it was something they'd talk about 'later'. Except that later had never come, and as the years had passed and Saga had become more and more absorbed in his training, in his duties, and Kanon in his desperate attempts to keep up with Saga. He'd all but forgotten, but the shadows words had dredged it all up, brought the hazy memories to the surface.

There had been, at once point, when Saga had hidden something from him. And that meant that Saga could easily be keeping more from him. More secrets. His throat tightened, his vision blurred, and his pulse began to race. Shion… Saga… was it possible? Were they keeping something from him…hiding things? Secrets? Was there was reason why he was being forced to live this…this half-life, locked away in Saga's shadow…something beyond merely his safety?

Fingernails digging into his arms, Kanon sank down to his knees and curled up on himself, closing his eyes tight. In the darkness of the cabin, it felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Saga. Saga, I need you. I don't want to be alone.

His only answer was the cold silence of the dark.

Saga's eyes snapped open with a start, his hand flying to his chest, pressing at the point just over his heart. The vivid words that had jarred him from his sleep faded the moment he woke, but the rapid pounding of his pulse betrayed the lingering uneasiness that still remained. That sense of being where he wasn't supposed to be, without being able to precisely identify where he should be. He drew in a slow, steadying breath, closing his eyes and attempting to calm his racing heartbeat.

"Bad dream?"

The deep, serious tone drew Saga's attention away from his own momentarily distress to look at the person in the seat beside him. The boy who had taken the name of Aldebaran was looking at him inquisitively, his head cocked slightly to one side. Boy seemed the wrong word to use with him, given that at his height he could have easily been mistaken for being twice his age, but the innocent, inquisitive concern that he looked to Saga with betrayed his youth. The question surprised Saga – since they'd left Brazil, Aldebaran had hardly spoken two words to his new companions. It was just as well; Aphrodite had words enough for the both of them, although the blue-haired Swede was now curled up in the window seat on the other side of Saga, head pillowed on his arm as he slept. Apeaceful sleep from the looks of it; Saga couldn't help but envy him.

"Nothing serious," Saga said in response to Aldebaran's question, keeping his tone intentionally light. He had no issues with the Taurus potential, but he opened his heart to no one – not even Aiolos – and he had no intention of starting now. "And nothing for you to worry yourself about," he interjected when he saw Aldebaran prepare himself to speak again. "Someday you'll have plenty of things on your mind, things that you'd rather not think about if you had the choice. Enjoy your time before then while you can."

Aldebaran looked at him for a moment, then sighed, settling back into his seat. "We all have ghosts in our past that we don't want to face," he said quietly. "Being a Gold Saint isn't a requirement for that. My master always said that one of the most difficult things for a Saint to do was finding the balance between their duty to Athena and their duty to their own hearts."

Saga raised his eyebrows in response, giving the large youth an appraising look. Unlike Aphrodite, who wore his emotions and intentions on his sleeve for anyone to see, Saga had found it much more difficult to get a handle on the Taurus potential.

The Brazilian training grounds were located in the heart of the Amazon, and while Saga could make it there in no time at all, it had been easier to leave Aphrodite in the hotel room that he'd secured in Brazil's capital city. While Aphrodite was already well on his way towards mastering light speed travel, he still couldn't match Saga, and even a Saint potential couldn't discard the effects of jet lag – a fact which the young Swede had made damn sure Saga was aware of since the moment they'd gotten off the plane from Greenland. It hadn't taken much thought for Saga to decide that it would be easier to approach the potential Taurus Saint without Aphrodite in tow.

He had not expected to find Aldebaran waiting at the entrance to the training grounds, his few personal belongings already packed away in a satchel at his feet. Saga's intention had been to evaluate Aldebaran just as he had done with Aphrodite, to determine if his Cosmo really was worthy of bearing the Cloth of his guardian constellation, but it seemed as if Aldebaran himself had already known the answer. Saga had told no one of his arrival, and yet the young Saint potential had known.

In hindsight it shouldn't have surprised him, given Aldebaran's history. It was rare for a Saint potential to be trained by the previous bearer of the Cloth that they would one day inherit, but Aldebaran had had the honor of not only being trained by Taurus Teneo, but also being named and raised by him. And the fact that the name that he'd been given at birth, Aldebaran, was the same as those renowned Taurus Saints of Holy Wars past spoke volumes of the act's significance. Saga himself had only had the privilege of meeting Teneo a handful of times during his training, but he'd always felt nothing but respect for the man who had dedicated his life to bearing the mantle of his master and to rebuilding Sanctuary to its former glory following the 18th Century Holy War. He had been one of the last survivors of what was often hailed as the bloodiest Holy War since the Age of Myth, and he had shouldered that responsibility with quiet dignity and grace.

Taurus Teneo had died the day that Shion had first read of Athena's return in the stars.

"Your master was a wise and respected man, Aldebaran," Saga said quietly, turning his face away from the young potential to stare out of the window again. He said nothing else, and Aldebaran didn't push.

Duty to Athena.

Duty to his heart.

Oh, how he envied Aiolos for having the two be the same.

It was nearing midday when the figure appeared on the path to Sanctuary's gates. Clad in a dusty, dirty and torn cloak, face shielded by an oversized hood, their presence immediately had the gate guards on alert. They both tensed, moving into fighting stances, because even though the new arrival was on the small side they knew to take no chances. "Halt!" the first guard said authoritatively. "State your intentions!"

The figure paused in mid-step, then stumbled and dropped to his knees. His hood fell back, and both guards were shocked to see the youthful face beneath it, proof that the their short stature was due to age – and that such a young child could have made it through the mountains to Sanctuary on their own.

The youth lifted his head to look at the guards, his expression imploring despite the bruises that discolored his jaw. "Please," he said. "I need to see… I have to see the Grand Master. Shion. Aries Shion. Please."

The guards looked at each other in astonishment, but before either of them could figure out how to respond to such a request – one did not just walk up to Sanctuary and beg to see the Grand Master – they both sensed the ever-soothing Cosmos of the man in question behind them, and immediately turned at attention.

Shion's entire focus was on the boy, his lavender eyes wide with shock as he took in the shaggy, moss-colored hair, the dark eyes so hauntingly familiar, and youthful softness to a face that he knew would one day mature to sharp angles and severe expressions. He didn't need to ask the boy who he was; he knew.

Their eyes met; then the Capricorn Saint's rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed forward into Shion's arms, falling into unconsciousness.