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Full moon hung above Capricorn’s horns within the canyons near Sanctuary. The swordsman shut his eyes and inhaled the forest chill. Crackling of the torch rattled his bones. Twilight chimed with the songs of insects. Exhaled to forge the sword. There was no heat, no coldness. Grounded. Stillness.
Shnnk!
El Cid sliced a single cut toward the heavens. In front of him, the cliffside shattered and crumbled. He frowned.
Too shallow.
Another skyward slice that tore open a boulder in front of him. This time, he listened to the sound of his blade over the flutter of his mantle.
Too slow.
He focused all his cosmo into one swing, unleashing it with a shout. He obliterated every rock, every speck of dust in a flash. Yet in its wake were jagged lines. Sizzling cracks within the air. He exhaled.
Too much.
The swordsman stared at his golden palm. Before he started these tests, El Cid assumed he could channel the answer himself. He searched for another method in the eastern lands and failed. He tried with and without donning his Cloth, postulating either would be approximate to the desired result. Now he verified the truth.
None of his cuts replicated what he accomplished with Sisyphus’s cosmo.
Vanquishing that spirit from the scepter with a lone cut. Without fear or hesitation. Without excess movement. Destructive with unparalleled focus, grace, and speed. It was close to a sacred sword. If he could maintain it...
He defied a god’s will at Catalonia, with Miné’s aid. Stripped from his Cloth and robbed from his peak condition. That, too, lasted only for the fatal blow. Sufficient to complete his mission. If that god parried his strike, would he have had the strength for another?
Not yet. I must be sharper.
He clenched his fist.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
Capricorn rose to attention at the bright voice. Mysterious. That man’s smile… After all these days they knew one another, his heart warmed as if it were the first time he saw it.
“Sisyphus…”
Sagittarius glowed in the torchlight. Golden wings glittered as the archer crossed the distance between them with a breezy gait.
“Pleasure to see you tonight, El Cid. When did you return to Sanctuary?”
“A short time ago. Forgive me, I did not desire to disturb your slumber.”
The archer chuckled.
“I was assigned to the night patrol. When I sensed that explosion of cosmo, I wondered if I was mistaken. It felt like you, but different.”
“An experiment.”
“Oh, interesting. However, I can see it was rather… unwieldy.”
The swordsman grunted.
Sisyphus closed the gap with three steps. Their hands joined and thumped against their chest plates. That man’s free hand thumped against his back, guiding El Cid into an embrace. Gentle forehead bump against his facemask’s horns. They whispered.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad we can meet again, El Cid.”
“...I as well.”
They rested in one another’s breaths, held in one other’s presence for what seemed like endless moments. Sisyphus tapped his back. They parted, slowly. Steel blue pierced blue.
“Sisyphus.”
“Hmm?”
“I request your company.”
His… lover smiled.
With the archer’s swift nod, the swordsman led them away from the carnage he wrought. Closer to the torch and protruding tree roots, El Cid sat with his ankles crossed and knees close to the ground. Sisyphus mirrored the seating positioning in front of him. Dew scented their Cloths as they adjusted for comfort.
It was here that Capricorn introduced to Sagittarius a deep breathing technique Miné taught him for the purposes of restoring focus and recuperation. Given time, the increased blood flow would improve mental capabilities as well.
Sisyphus grinned.
“And why would you ask me to be here for this?”
“Our mental capabilities are exhausted. It is evident we would benefit from the activity.”
“...So you noticed.”
“Your breath is haggard, your stance is tilted, your steps are shaken, your grip is altered, and your voice is frail. Based on the wrinkles near your eyes, you have not slept. The tomes from Sanctuary’s records were thickset. I do not believe you have finished reading them within the week of my absence.”
“Astute as always, El Cid. I’m impressed.”
El Cid narrowed his eyes.
“That is all you have to say?”
Sisyphus chuckled.
“I’m in your capable hands, El Cid.”
Given permission to act, the swordsman bid the archer to close his eyes. He instructed how to breathe with continued pressure from the lower abdominal area. The archer steadied his torso, righted his lower back for stability. After a few trial breaths, they matched an even pace of breathing. He confirmed Sisyphus’s lowered shoulders and loosened jaw before shutting his eyes.
Miné would have proceeded with the practice using her voice. El Cid chose a method open to Saints. Through telepathy, their long draws for air exchanged imagery. He could not conjure the beauty of folded steel nor the singing of the hammer with the same intimacy as Miné. He substituted with memories he captured.
Inhale. Winter clouds.
Exhale. Blizzard nights.
Inhale. Candlelight.
Exhale. Forest fire.
Inhale. Flower buds from the east.
Exhale. Flowers slow to bloom.
Inhale. Still waters at dusk.
Exhale. Streams under moonlight.
Inhale. Rows of Gold, Silver, and Bronze before the war goddess.
Exhale. Radiating from the front, the warmth of that man’s smile.
Before he could resume, Sisyphus broke his link to the telepathic connection. El Cid opened his eyes to see the archer looking to the right. He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you well?”
“...I’m fine.”
“Was the technique ineffective?”
“No, that was... wonderful. Thank you, El Cid.”
The swordsman chopped his questions short when Sisyphus wiped his hand under his eye. After a beat, the archer’s cheer returned.
“I’d like to try something with you too. May I?”
“You may.”
Sisyphus glanced around the training grounds. He gestured with his chin.
“Let’s head there.”
They walked to a spot further from the torch, closer to the nearby cliffs. He removed his facemask upon Sagittarius’s request. It was lowered to the ground, standing guard for them. The archer faced the horizon, standing on the lone patch of green grass. The swordsman claimed the adjacent spot, standing on the shattered remnants of his training.
“Regulus couldn’t hear anything when we tried this together. I’m curious to know how it’ll affect you.”
Sisyphus’s hair fluttered in the breeze. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. With a hint of levity in his voice, he spoke.
“Listen to what the wind tells you.”
El Cid’s cheeks warmed. Curious. Why did Sisyphus’s peaceful expression hold his attention? Facing the cliffs in this matter left them without cover. They were defenseless to an enemy ambush. And yet, El Cid wanted to gaze at his… lover’s soft smile. While he was away from Sanctuary, it kept him from straying too far. He returned once memories were… not enough.
Capricorn admired, for a few seconds longer. Then he closed his eyes.
Inhal—
An underwater regiment at midnight was preferable to this abyss.
Sisyphus vanished. He couldn"t sense his cosmo. Why?
Every nerve jolted along his spine. How—
A deep voice came from the void.
“We meet, godslayer.”
Impossible.
Not an illusion. Not a dream. It was similar to Miné from that time… to an extent.
Before El Cid stood a tall figure he knew from stories. Unearthly cosmo shaped into a giant lion behind him. It dominated the vicinity. Traces of Sisyphus and Regulus were within it, a layline to the present. Blue eyes that resembled them both.
No mistake in what he sensed. It was him. The once almighty hero of Sanctuary, donned in his Cloth again.
The deceased guardian of Leo.
Capricorn sharpened his senses. No scent, no sounds. No cosmo beyond Leo. Every cell around Leo blurred, as though they were transitioning between stillness and motion. Nothing and everything. It was close to that memory.
“This space… It resembles the spirit of a sword.”
“...An interesting technique. It permits you to feel beyond the body’s limitations. It is not Seventh Sense. However, it remains raw. Your focus wavers, and your worldview is insufficient to sustain your entry into this plane. Your edge is dull, Athena’s sword.”
El Cid grunted.
“Sisyphus cannot see you?”
The lion lowered his eyes.
“He will. The earth desires it.”
“...Your son is brilliant. Though he is young, you have taught Regulus well. Leo shall be his by his own merits.”
El Cid raised his eyebrows. The brothers shared the same smile.
“Tell me, godslayer.”
The smile vanished.
“Why do you seek the perfection of your blade?”
“It is the honor of a Saint to serve our goddess. Her victory leads to the land’s peace and future. Those who are precious to me have lent their belief in this dream. There is someone who I desire to protect at all costs. I shall not fail them.”
“Thus you train your body to be a weapon. I see. Your life is straight as an edge.”
“Indeed.”
“The sword of Capricorn is implacable. Its honest path is destined to kill. It executes, friend or foe, for justice. The price for staining the winds with blood is high.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sagittarius leads the path of truth, a path of light for our comrades. He moves, in one with his being. Where he walks, he shall gather strength. With the winds and the earth beside him, he shall become the strongest Saint.“
Leo glowered.
“When that day comes, your perfect blade will have been reduced to ash. Capricorn will return to the earth with the slain, unable to touch the land of man. That is a branch of your fate.”
“...If my sword is to defend that light, I shall have no regrets.”
“As the strongest Saint, Sagittarius’s light shall be eternal. Our comrades will rally and pass over his body. Lifeless and soaked in blood, unable to touch the land of man.”
El Cid widened his eyes.
”That is a branch of his fate.”
His mouth opened.
“Tell me, godslayer.”
His heart pounded.
“Why do you seek the perfection of your blade?”
His breath quickened.
“I—”
“Well? Hear anything?”
Capricorn gasped. Underneath him, the cliffside was restored. When did he fall to his knees? Clouds eclipsed the moon. Sweat rolled from his temple.
This cold darkness… this was grounded into reality, but—
“Sisyphus…”
“Hmm?”
He squinted. Against the faint glow of their Cloths, he located the outline he sought. With supreme effort, El Cid rose to his feet.
The swordsman’s fingers touched the archer’s chin. Sisyphus gasped. Sagittarius pivoted towards Capricorn. He caressed the archer’s cheek. Downy hair brushed against his fingertips.
His voice was strangely light.
“I will protect you.”
“Eh?”
His other hand cupped Sisyphus’s cheek. Delicate warmth embraced his fingers. Capricorn whispered.
“I’ll protect you.”
The archer covered the swordsman’s armored hands. Sagittarius inquired.
“El Cid?”
He chopped each word, faster than the next.
“I shall perfect the sacred sword. I shall not fail. I will do everything for victory. If they are a god or not, I shall cut them down. Regardless of the opponent, I’ll—”
Two fingers pressed softly on his upper lip. Sisyphus’s featherlight voice filled the gap between them.
“You’re trembling.”
Harsh winds swirled the premise. The torch tumbled and perished within the torrents. Twilight consumed them.
Gold Saints lowered their hands. Their fingers bumped and met. Their hands joined.
El Cid’s throat tightened. This was not like before when words failed him. He did not feel at ease, there was no comfort. What should he do to regain control? How could he conquer this by himself? Was there nothing he could do?
No, a voice within him reasoned. Not yet.
This sensation was known to him. He felt it in the past. To hide it was shameful. Sisyphus suspected, but he waited. Had faith he would speak. It would be inexcusable to cause that man any remorse with cowardice. Sagittarius’s desire from the mountain campfire resonated within Capricorn. Without their duties, regardless of their Cloths, they were men. …Lovers.
If one would struggle, they would struggle together.
The swordsman tightened his hold. He sent the message through cosmo, as though it were a tender whisper.
I’m afraid.
The archer squeezed back. He was grateful for the response.
Of what?
To lose you.
What do you mean?
His throat loosened with the goodness of Sisyphus’s care. He did not want to cause further unease. Steeling himself to speak, the omen was shared through the swordsman’s lips. From the order in which they would die. What future awaited them in his vision.
El Cid omitted a lone detail, one that felt necessary. The lion being present. An unspoken message between them. Both wanted to see the day when Sagittarius would rise on his own. Both wanted to shield him for as long as possible. Regardless if either would live to see that day.
When he finished, El Cid felt empty of words. Sisyphus sighed.
“I’m sorry, it must have been difficult. I can’t imagine how… I sometimes wondered if obtaining the sacred sword would have a cost… To you and—”
Rough fingertips rested on his cheek. Sagittarius declared.
“El Cid.”
He raised his chin.
“According to that… vision, you were able to fulfill your oaths. Even if… even if you fell in battle before I did, you were able to cut a way for us.”
The swordsman nodded.
“When you heard that, were you content?”
Slowly, the swordsman nodded.
“I’ve had my share of divinations in the past. They’re frightening, they’re confusing. They’re not everything. We’re here, and we’ll do what we can together. Every day is ours, another day to serve others. That’s why—”
The archer stepped closer.
“I swear to you.”
Thumb brushed under his eye.
“Should that day ever come, I’ll hold onto what you felt in that moment. That is what is dear to me. I’ll honor the sacred sword you’ll create. I won’t let your dream die with you. No matter what happens and for as long as I can. I promise.”
Through the gloom, blue eyes glinted at him.
El Cid diced the statements. Rather than give into despair, they will accept and challenge it. Rather than viewing loss as the end, they will bear the sorrow as a banner towards victory. There were not sacrifices. They would be Saints who fulfilled their duties for a greater dream. Sisyphus would march onwards to hope.
He huffed.
How like Sisyphus…
His fingers curled. Another unspoken message granted to him. Both understood.
It was impossible for Sisyphus to promise his survival.
Strange. They agreed upon this reality before. It was inevitable for anyone who lived through war. Common for their age to witness. Saints in particular. But in that moment, a sharp pain stabbed his chest. What was this distortion? Why could he not be calmed?
Leo sought to learn what a living blade could accomplish. That was his first impression. As the stinging spread, Capricorn carved the truth within the lion’s words.
As a Saint, as a sword to be commanded, he understood. He steeled his heart against Felser to hold steadfast to that truth. They had the now, and nothing more.
He did not know how to accept it as a man. As someone… as a lover.
They had the now, and nothing more.
It was too much.
Sagittarius’s hand slid gently from his cheek. In the next instant, Capricorn looped his free arm around Sagittarius’s collar. Their Cloths clanked and clattered as the swordsman drew closer. His bare knuckles brushed against golden wings.
“E-El Cid?”
Hot breath against his ear tightened his grip on Sisyphus’s hand. Metal tinked around his hands. He couldn’t hold back. Why? He didn’t know.
He only knew that he wanted this warmth.
“...Sisyphus.”
At that whisper, the archer gasped. He slipped his hand free. Then he crushed El Cid into a tighter embrace. Instinctively, he returned it. One of their knees buckled. They kneeled to the ground together. Slumped to the ground together. Moved around the plating of their Cloths to be closer together.
Mysterious. One’s company should have sufficed. He would have faced this alone, with any other person. Perhaps their goddess would have not permitted this plight.
Even so, the pain in his chest weakened the longer they stayed this way. Somehow, their Cloths could not dent that sense of closeness. That sense of belonging.
Why?
Because it is this man.
At last, his quivering fingers calmed.
Only then did they part.
The swordsman exhaled. Seeking that man’s touch for his selfish comfort… Leo was correct. He lacked constraint. Such a flaw would be life or death in a duel. He must rectify his impulsiveness.
“Forgive me. I was unsightly. I have neglected my objective to soothe you.”
“No need to apologize, El Cid. It’s a pleasant surprise.”
“...I do not wish to burden you.”
“Burden? I’m actually glad.”
Moonlight revived on his… lover’s face.
“Since I first met you, you seek to overcome any obstacle by yourself. Like a lone drawn sword. You’re so steadfast and pure, I wondered if you’d welcome anyone else. I’m glad to provide support. Moreover—“
Sisyphus deepened his smile.
“There is no shame in hearing this side of you. It may be graceless, yet it’s an honor to receive. We’re fortunate to have one another.”
His heartbeat… He would not squander this opportunity.
Capricorn lowered his gaze—just for a blink—before piercing the dipping moon. He shifted his feet backward and permitted his Cloth to rest. Rolled sleeves, bandaged forearms, and black trousers. As golden cosmo sparked around them, blue met with steel blue.
“I wish to state a request.”
The archer tilted his head.
“And that is?”
“Preparations are inadequate. We are tired. We are exposed to the elements. The ground beneath us is uneven. Judging from the color on the horizon, the time to break fast draws near. Spectators may interrupt if we remain within this region. Our period of rest together is brief.”
“True.”
“Even so—”
The swordsman honed his words.
“Will you lend your body to me?”
Sagittarius sputtered. Capricorn inquired.
“What ails you?”
“Uh, I—that’s—”
El Cid bowed his head.
“...We cannot spar then.”
Sisyphus pressed a metal fist to his bowed forehead. Curious. Why were his ears tinted?
“That’s what you meant…”
“Forgive me, I shall not ask you to exert yourself.”
“Wait, El Cid. I believe we need it.”
Sagittarius stretched his arms above his head and stood. In a flash, his Cloth flew away. Long sleeved white shirt and black trousers. White feathers of golden cosmo hovered around him as he rolled his sleeves. He chuckled.
“Sometimes it’s best to move the body before sleeping. A spar would do well for tiring me, and moving is an antidote for a troubled mind. We’d benefit from the activity. Perhaps I’ll win more than once this time.”
The swordsman gaped. His… lover’s hand lowered to him. The archer’s firm grasp supported him. They stood. Behind that man, the feathers faded into the white-blue of the night.
Leo stated that Sagittarius would become the light to lead their comrades. Capricorn knew this to be true. That man’s soft heart invited salvation and trust in others. That alone surpassed the power of a hundred men. El Cid accepted that part of his predecessor’s message. With one alteration.
He was surprised by the words within his heart. He did not fight them. He allowed them to form a single thought.
My… light.
“Sisyphus.”
“Hmm?”
He smiled.
“Thank you.”
Sagittarius blinked. Then he kissed the swordsman’s knuckles. He returned the smile.
“Thank you, El Cid.”
Sisyphus emitted a strange sound from the back of his throat when their lips met. As El Cid deepened the kiss, he steeled himself to his life purpose. Through cosmo and his lips, he reinforced it.
I will protect you.
To this radiance.
To this wind.