Scorpio
2
He was tired of their guest’s constant scrutiny. Jabu laughed when he stopped to think about it. A few months ago, he had been just another Saint; the Unicorn Saint; but Saori had had the absurd idea that he, because of the stars of his birth should be the future Scorpion Saint. For her, he had accepted it immediately, even after hearing her talk about the matter with that hateful Seiya. For a moment, his curiosity was piqued as to the matter between Saori and Milo. Thus far, everyone had mentioned a quarrel between them, but in truth, no one was very well informed.
Jabu looked at the horizon once more. The display of colours before him changed slowly in a bright blue and almost cloudless sky of magenta, ochre, and violet joined by endless clouds of the same colours. He remembered those colours. Once they were his, but no more. Although only slightly, the Scorpion’s red had started to become part of him. At first his reticence before the fact did not let him see the change in himself and now he was not interested in what would happen or how. It was as real as he being alive, and that was enough for him. Milo had never mistreated him before, the demands placed upon him were excessive, he knew that it was because of Milo’s words, he could give much more— “and scorpions never give less than they can, Jabu.”
He smiled. Milo’s voice sounded in his head, bringing back memories of all these months he had spent on Milos. From the first moment, his master had been kind with him. Back in Sanctuary, everything had gone well until Camus had arrived at the temple. He remembered Milo and his disconcerted expression when they had felt the powerful cosmos expanding from the Temple entrance. He had seen him stand and leave the private sanctum, quite worried, and swearing under his breath. Later he had seen him furious. He had never been so afraid as in that exact moment.
He had never felt such rage as the day when he had run into Camus in the cottage. He knew that his annoyance was due to the fact that he worried too much about Milo. Besides, he had promised Clytus that he would take care of him and he knew perfectly well that Milo was in no shape to receive Camus as a guest. The tiredness shown by his master was well known. Perhaps because of this he had not minded that he should sleep for almost two days in a row. He knew that he needed that time to rest. But, once again, Camus had arrived and this time he had not wanted to leave.
He did not realise how fast time was passing, and even less that he had entered the water, further than he would have wished at first. The water sparkled in the sunbeams reflected on the surface and it was impossible not to notice the little fish gathered in shoals near to the beach, and even made him laugh when they brushed him with their fins as they swam by. But the next thing he felt was no laughing matter. A cry of pain, which made him fall into the water, and the search for his ankle brought him back to reality and forget his wanderings.
When he looked down at himself he saw that a sluggish, translucent mass had wrapped itself around his ankle. He tried to take it in his hand and remove it easily, and on reaching it, throw it away from him. He could feel the haematomas and the injuries in his leg, but that was not the worst part. The pain was, to say the least, unbearable, and he could not hold back another cry that made him twist in pain.
He wanted to move, but it was impossible. The pain and his tears overwhelmed him even though he did not want to happen. It was too strong. The only coherent thing he managed to do was to flare his cosmos. He needed help.
Quickly.
Milo had gone upstairs to his room. His cosmos had spread throughout the place filling it with venom. He knew that Camus would never dare to pass. Not out of fear, but because, perhaps something inside him knew that he was not welcome.
So he had slept for two days; he thought while he showered. The water flowed down his body as if it had known him for a long time; like a lover pressed against his body yearning for comfort. Aquarius was still there, outside. His cosmos allowed him to feel everything and reclaim it as his own; however he demanded that Aquarius leave. He did not want to see him, much less to be with him. Aquarius had had his time to cure, very well, now it was his turn. Those two days he had spent sleeping without his realising it, had had a greater effect on his body than all the months that had gone before. The sensation of rest he felt, he mused, was only the beginning of the peace that stillness and tranquillity would bring to him.
He looked for some clean clothes. He wanted to call Clytus to assist him, but upon remembering that the man would be in Sanctuary a few more days, he desisted. The comb passed through his hair, leaving his hair free of all tangles, and then he shook his head to leave his silky mane tossed again. As he stood up he felt the air entering his lungs and the coolness of his long hair falling down his back. Soon he had found a pair of trousers and a shirt, so as to, according to his plans, sit and read all afternoon long; but the red glow that he could see in the distance, and the psychic blow his cosmos received made him leave the house hastily. Jabu was in some kind of danger.
When he arrived at the place where his senses had taken him, he found Jabu pulling himself forward through the waves that beat on the beach, trying to reach dry sand.
“Jabu!” The man shouted as he drew near, letting himself fall at the other’s side and trying to lift him in his arms. The problem now was, that when he did so, Jabu fell into a state of unconsciousness because of the pain and the fever that afflicted him, and he knew nothing more.
* * *
The following nights had been critical. Jabu had had high fever and Milo had barely been able to control it. The ambiance that Milo’s very cosmos created became suddenly one of healing.
The older man had spent his time going upstairs and downstairs looking for dressings, hot or cold water, depending on the needs of the moment. A moment even came when he had to fetch a wash basin to use so as to hold all of the blood that he had bled out of Jabu’s leg. Having to bleed him was a somewhat rudimentary method but it seemed to be having the desired effect.
Eventually everything seemed to be under control, and when Milo looked towards the window, he could tell that it was almost dawn. He began to wrap the wounded leg with bandages, and although the bruises looked nasty, he could tell by their colour that there was no longer any danger. Though the other still had a slight fever.
Milo sat on one of the chairs at the side of the bed. From there he could keep an eye on any movement the other should make. Fortunately now everything was as it should be, and in silence Milo gave thanks to Athena.
“Master.” Clytus’ voice was like a balsam for all that had happened in the last few days. He heard him take a few steps forward, and then he felt the other’s hand on his shoulder.
“He’s better now.” Milo responded, gesturing to another chair for the squire to sit down.
“You haven’t rested enough. Why don’t you—?”
“Don’t start treating me like a child, my dear, loyal Clytus.” The man smiled sleepily. He knew that the other would offer to let him sleep, but where would he sleep? Jabu was resting in his bed. Of course, something would come to mind, and he knew that soon he could try to rest a little.
“Go to his room, I will stay here taking care of him, and then you can take over later.” The look Milo gave him made him laugh. “Come on, Master, even you need rest, besides, your loyal Clytus is here to take charge.”
Milo smiled back. He reached out an arm and drew the other close to his body. “It’s good to see you, you know?”
“Have you been eating well?” The other asked, arranging his hair and clothes. Milo let him do it.
“Camus was here. After you left I slept for several days, I’ve been told, and he came.”
“And?”
“Nothing, he had to go the way he came, and that’s that. I don’t want any more entanglements in my life, not...”
“Nothing to knock you off balance.” The other said smiling.
“How do you do it?” started Milo said as his squire practically forced him out of the chamber.
“Do what, Master?”
“Treat me like a child sometimes, other times with so much respect, and never anger me?”
“Years of putting up with you, Master.” Both laughed at the last remark. Milo would never dare reproach Clytus for something, he could even hit him— again—, and he would never object. After all, the young man had earned the right, after having put up with him for so long. There was also the fact that as children, they had been playmates, and the former Scorpion Saint had ensured that despite their difference in ranks, that they had grown up almost like brothers. Finally, Milo went to rest, sure that everything would be all right.
When the young squire turned around to tend to Jabu, he saw that he had awoken, and he smiled.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough.”
“Long enough for what, Jabu.”
The youth did not respond. In fact, he had come round a while before, and he had simply tried to rest. During that time he had observed Milo trying not to sleep, always mindful of him. He had seen him change the bandages, and checking that the wound was healing correctly. He had even covered himself with a sheet a couple of times, so that the heat would not bother the other.
“Long enough for what, Jabu?” Clytus repeated.
“To understand...”
He did not finish the phrase intentionally. He knew that anything else he might say would leave him in the open, and he was not sure he wanted that to happen.
“A moment ago, Milo embraced you, Clytus. Is there anything between the two of you?”
The man approached the bed, and sat on the chair that Milo had occupied before. He folded his arms over his chest and he looked at him, somewhat amused by the remark. Something between Milo and him, never. They had always been friends, as well as squire and master, and the respect and brotherly love they felt for each other had always been strong.
“Something between us? Of course not, Jabu; Milo is my Master, whom I serve with honour and loyalty; if you are referring to something else between us, I am sorry to disappoint you, I am nothing more than his friend.”
“Now I understand why Camus acts like that when he sees him,” Jabu started “I would even go so far as to say that I understand why he fled from him when he came back to life.” The youth did not dare to so much as look the other in the eye, realising that he was already giving himself away.
“Two scorpions together are destined to kill each other.”
“Clytus... what are you saying!?”
The man remained in silence watching him gesticulate and cross his arms almost offended by the remark. He knew what he was seeing in Jabu, because he had sometimes seen it in Milo. And now the other had spent days looking after him, something that had only been conceded to Camus from time to time. On the other hand, he knew that Milo could have summoned him even across the distance between Sanctuary and the Island. However, he had not done so.
“And now you ignore me too?”
Yes, Clytus said to himself, it was all too— plain to see to deny it.
“Of course not, Jabu; I am listening to you attently, that is all.”