Chapter Two

The first door appeared on the left side of the corridor. It was a plain brown oak door that looked rather solid. Zane never bothered to decorate his door like others. After all, Zane was not that kind of person. He was a plain man who largely kept to himself.

“Here we are.” Azar stopped in front of the door. Cyadoria followed suit.

“This is Zane’s room. He’s usually either in here or in the kitchen. I’ll show you where that is in a second.” He knocked gently on the door. A grunt from within confirmed his suspicion of Zane’s whereabouts.

The door edged open slowly, showing an emerald eye set on healthy-looking olive skin peaking out. Then it opened further to reveal a man a little taller than Azar and perhaps a little older too. His hair that reached down to his shoulders was as black as night. Zane wore a simple dark green T-shirt and a pair of casual dark blue jeans. He looked at Azar, then questioningly at Cyadoria.

“Not wearing mask,” he noted in a deep soft voice.

“Oh, Zane, this is Cyadoria. Cyadoria, this is Zane.” She made the effort to extend her hand, but this was soon proved to be useless.

“Cyadoria is new here,” Azar explained. “The Pope didn’t say she had to wear a mask. I guess that’s because she’s not a Saint, nor is she trying to be one.”

“Fine,” said Zane, looking rather uninterested.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Her second effort did not fare well either.

“Um, I’d better take her to meet the others. See you later, Zane.” Azar did his best to break the awkward situation.

“Right.” The heavy door closed.

“Was it something I said?” Cyadoria asked.

“No. Zane’s like that. He’s virtually silent. He’s a good cook though. Let’s meet the others.” The two figures hurried away from Zane’s door. It was not far until they reached another door much like Zane’s except it was decorated with a large poster of a purple unicorn. Cyadoria could not read the fourteen black symbols stuck above the picture, but they looked very complicated.

“This is Ira’s room,” Azar instructed. He did not even need to knock. The large door swung open. The blond girl who stood in the doorway obviously heard his voice. She wore a tight black dress. However, to Cyadoria’s surprise, where an expectant face would normally be, there was instead a silvery mask that even covered her eyes, making it impossible to work out their colour.

“Hey Azar,” greeted the friendly voice, “and who’s this?”

“Cyadoria. She’s new here.”

“I see. Good to see you.” Ira took Cyadoria’s hand in a crushing handshake. “Come in, both of you. Don’t just stand there in the corridor!”

They discovered a brightly painted room, which immediately woke her up from the dull grey corridor. Three walls were electric-blue, leaving the last one lilac. There were posters of all sizes, crowding the walls with winged-horses, dragons, witches and many other mythical creatures. Somehow, these creatures made Cyadoria feel very at home, as if she had lived beside them all her life. Ira flung herself on a cosy purple cushioned chair. Azar followed suit on the other chair in a corner of her small room.

“You can sit on my bed,” Ira told Cyadoria. “Special seat for you. Just move the clothes. Clear yourself some space. Sorry, my room is a bit of a tip. Yes, just dump them on the floor. Sit down. Make yourself at home.”

“You luck devil, Cyadoria,” she continued, “You don’t have to wear a mask! Who gave you permission?”

Not understanding the fuss about masks, which stared with Zane’s short abrupt question, Cyadoria could not answer before Azar did so for her.

“Kyoto didn’t say she had to.” Then he explained shortly to Cyadoria, “All females in Sanctuary have to wear masks.”

“She’s not training though,” he carried on his conversation with Ira, not giving Cyadoria a chance to ask why.

“Ah, I see. Has she met everyone?”

“No, but that’s what I’m working on at the moment. She’s met Zane.” He added quickly, “and Gigas too.”

Cyadoria could only guess for a sympathetic expression behind her mask to match her tone of voice.

“Poor thing! Why did you take her to them first? Now she’s going to think we’re all horrible and grumpy!”

“Perhaps taking her to Zane first wasn’t the best idea,” Azar defended himself, “but Gigas wasn’t my idea. It just happened by chance yesterday.”

“Alright. I’ll forgive you on Gigas. What about Saints, has she met them yet?” She threw a quick look at the girl on her bed, who looked slightly lost.

“Just Gold Saint Scorpio Milo. The Kyoto asked me to introduce her to all of them later, so don’t worry. I will get it done today.”

“I know what. Why don’t I go and invite everyone into my room so you can meet them here,” Ira suddenly suggested.

“The Gold Saints?!” Azar looked at her in utter disbelief. “Have you gone totally mad? They’d never come by the invitation of a servant. Not only that, it’s as difficult as hell to get all of them into one room unless the voice of Athena commands them to do so.”

The mask hid all traces of her expression, so it came as a surprise to both of them when Ira burst out laughing uncontrollably.

“It’s you who’s mad, Azar! Gold Saints? I’m not an idiot! I’m talking about the others! You know, like Mirabel and Faye. Gold Saints indeed,” she scoffed.

The look of realisation swept across Azar’s face. Then he turned quite red, matching the colour of a rising sun, thought Cyadoria, just as red and just as bright.

“Oh right. Why didn’t you say so then?”

“I did,” Ira snapped and tilted her head to one side. “Well, what do you say to my ingenious idea?”

“Fine.” He sounded more than a little grumpy.

“Fine! Just ‘fine’? Is that all?”

“It’s a brilliant idea, Ira. Ingenious indeed.” At this, Ira disappeared through the door. Azar looked very crestfallen.

“Let me introduce you to the lovely Faye.” Ira had completely taken over. She had entered a moment ago with several people who must be ‘the others’. Cyadoria had stood up to greet them, forming a semicircle around Ira’s bed. Azar could only sit in the corner of her room, looking withdrawn.

Faye was a blond like Ira. However, her hair was longer, reaching down to her mid-back, and curlier. Faye was perhaps marginally slimmer than Ira was. She also wore a strange silvery mask. She was dressed completely differently to Ira. Her flowing red skirt reached down to her toes. A simple white blouse sufficed for her upper body.

“And this is Mirabel.” Cyadoria greeted another masked face. This one clipped up her dark brown, almost black hair with a multitude of brightly coloured hairpins. Her visible skin was honey-brown, suggesting eastern origins.

She was well dressed in a short denim skirt and a strappy fuchsia-pink cropped-top with high-healed sandals. However, what caught Cyadoria’s attention most were her brightly painted nails. They were of amazing lengths, each varnished with great care into little pieces of artwork. There was a bunch of cherries visible in gold background as well as a blossoming peach tree set in summer landscapes, a river running into a distance in the background.

Then, of course, was the mass of bangles on her wrists and ankles. They were in all shades of colour imaginable. They made her shine like a star, with further help from her golden necklace and several rings on her fingers and toes. The downward direction of gaze led Cyadoria to discover that Mirabel’s toenails were painted too, with just as much detail as her fingernails.

“I see, you’re noticing my art,” Mirabel interrupted the astonished Cyadoria with a beautifully accented voice.

“They’re beautiful. It must have taken hours for you to do that!”

“Not really once you get use to it. Anyway, it gives me something interesting to do apart from delivering food to the Pope and the Gold Saints.”

“You know, you’re so lucky, Mirabel,” said Ira with an envious voice. “That’s all you’ve got to do. Whereas I have to do the hardest job there is.” At this, Faye started to giggle. This fully awakened Cyadoria’s curiosity.

“What may that be?” she asked.

“Lord, don’t ask! I have to prepare the spa every time the Pope has a bath. You know, getting the temperature of the water exactly right and that sort of thing. Now, that might not sound too hard, but when you consider the fact that he baths at least once a day, well…. I never get much free time! It’s so unfair!”

“Well, it’s only your own fault,” said Faye, sounding amused, “You could have chosen Mirabel’s job, but you didn’t and got spa duty instead.”

“Well, I didn’t know how much the Pope loves his spa when I chose, did I,” replied Ira angrily. “By the way, the worst part of it all is scrubbing the spa afterwards. I chip my nails so often that I have to keep them short.” At that, Mirabel sighed with some sympathy.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about cleaning the spa,” squeaked an aqua-green-haired young boy with a disastrous hairstyle. “I have to clean the toilets!” Ira laughed at that.

“That’s true, I suppose,” she replied grudgingly. “Herlang, Cyadoria. Cyadoria, Herlang.” She did a quick introduction. Herlang held out small his hand.

“No, don’t!” Ira’s warning was a little too late. Unsuspectingly, Cyadoria shook his hand only to feel something crawl in her palm. It was a huge spider. She shook it off desperately. Herlang laughed mischievously.

“I tried to warn you. Never shake hands with Herlang. That’s a rule,” Ira said with a sigh.

“Are you scared of spiders,” he asked Cyadoria, still smiling.

“Not really. I just don’t like surprises.” He looked a bit annoyed at that.

“Anyway, you’re lucky too,” she continued talking to Faye. “You can go out of Sanctuary as much as you want! You and Vera are just so lucky!” Then she remembered that Cyadoria was probably feeling left out.

“She does the food shopping for the Pope and Gold Saints as well as all of us here,” she explained, pointing to Faye. “And, by the way, that’s Vera.” She pointed to the last masked woman in the room. She was strong and muscular with dark, tanned skin with short purple hair. She wore a sort of armour with high-healed boots that looked very painful.

“She’s the tax collector.”

“We’ll have to meet the other two later. We have to hurry up. We haven’t met the Gold Saints yet. We’ll have to meet the Silvers tomorrow. There are far more those than Gold ones. That’ll take much longer. Oh, did I tell you that we still need to meet Thaddeus and Phaeton? Yes, that’s their names. You can’t get Ira and Phaeton into the same room. That’s why he wasn’t invited into her room, I guess. Thaddeus wasn’t in. He’s very busy. Poor him. He has to do kitchen duty, as a helper to Zane. But he works for far longer hours.” Azar looked very relieved to leave Ira’s room. He was certainly glad to be able to speak again. Words flew out of his mouth as if he were trying to make up for his silence in Ira’s company.

“Did anyone tell you what Saints do?”

“N…” Azar cut across before she had the chance to finish.

“I thought not. Well, they are protectors of Athena. You know Athena? Probably not, I suppose. Well, she is a Goddess. She’s the Goddess of wisdom and just war. Just as in the sense of fair. There are many ranks of her Saints with Gold Saints at the top, then Silver, then Bronze. They basically wait for her incarnation to be born and fight off dangers. Unfortunately, her incarnation, who should be alive now, was murdered by a Gold Saint. The Gold Saints, whom we will meet in a second, are very powerful. Each of them guards a temple of a zodiac sign. Not all of them are there. I’ll introduce you to the ones who are. You’ve already met Milo, the Scorpio Saint. You remember him? He’s the one who cured you. Oh, do you know about zodiac signs?” Cyadoria, who has been nodding at the previous question, shook her head. At this, he looked patronisingly at her. She secretly prayed that his funny mood would be over soon. She really did not like him when he was like this

“There are twelve zodiac signs. Everyone belongs to a zodiac sign, which depends on their date of birth.”

“Do you mean star signs? I know about them.”

“Yes, yes, they’re the same thing. The House we’re going to first is the Pisces House. Do you understand what I just said?”

“Well, I’ve never heard of the name ‘Pisces’.” At least he was letting her speak.

“And you say you know about star signs,” he said mockingly.

“Well, I know there’s the Ram, the Ox, the Twins….”

“I see, you know them by their crude names. The Ram is actually called Aries. The Ox is Taurus. The Twins is Gemini. What would you call Pisces? The Fish, perhaps?”

“Oh, you mean the Fishes.”

“Probably.”

“Birthday from nineteenth of February to twentieth of March?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” He was becoming normal again. That was a relief.

“What star sign are you?” she asked.

“Leo since I was born on the first of August. That’s the Lion to you, I think.”

“Wait, that makes you….” She was thinking hard about all she had learnt on star signs a long time ago. “That makes you friendly and proud. You like helping people, or something like that.”

He laughed, lightening up the atmosphere. “Where did you get that from?”

“Violet used to tell me about these things,” she replied, eyes in the distant past when she was a little girl. Those violet eyes full of wisdom guided her. But Violet was gone now.

“Who?”

“A… very good friend who took me in.”

“I see.” Seeing that she did not wish to talk about this Violet, he switched the topic of their conversation.

“And what star sign are you?” She looked up, smiling.

“I’m really not sure. You see, I was born at midnight on the twenty-first of June. Some would say that is the morning of the twenty-second. So I’m either a Twin, I mean Gemini, or a Giant Crab. What do you call the Giant Crab?”

“Cancer. But hey, you’re a borderline. That’s great. You’re basically both, depending on what day it is.”

“Really? Does that mean I have double personality or something like that?” He winced a bit.

“Triple, actually. Gemini has two on its own.”

“Oh dear.”

“Indeed. I have to watch out for your personality changes. Sanctuary certainly got more than it asked for. It’s like having three new people here.”

“Don’t worry. If I mess things up, it won’t be for long since I will leave soon.” At that, he looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Why, what’s wrong?” There was definitely something he was not telling her.

“Nothing. Err… we’re getting to the Pisces House already. Are you ready to meet Gold Saint Aphrodite?” She nodded. He was deliberately avoiding her question. She had to find out what he was hiding, but not now.

“I thought all female Saints had to wear masks. You told me so,” said Cyadoria after they left the Pisces temple.

“Of course.”

“Then why wasn’t Aphrodite wearing one?”

Suddenly understanding her mistake, he burst out laughing. “Aphrodite isn’t a woman,” he told her, still laughing. She stopped walking and stared at him.

“What!” She could have sworn that the pretty Saint with blue-white hair and an immense liking of roses was a woman. She, now revealed as not a she, even had a beauty spot and seemed to be wearing some make-up.

“Don’t worry, it’s not an uncommon mistake, but Pisces Aphrodite is actually a man. Great that you didn’t treat him like a woman in front of his face. He would have probably been a bit offended.”

“But she, I mean he, is so feminine.”

“I told you Gold Saints are a bit weird, but they’re powerful. Once you get used to them, they’re all right. Are you ready to meet the next one?”

“Which one is the next?”

“Should be Aquarius Camus, but since he’s in Siberia, it’s Capricorn Shura.”

When you meet some people, you just know that you are not going to like them. To Cyadoria, Shura was just so. The arrogant air of the Capricorn Saint, or the Goat Saint as she preferred to call him, made her uncomfortable. His dismissive attitude to them set her teeth on edge. She never felt so relieved when she pulled Azar out of that temple.

“I guess you didn’t like him?”

“No.”

“Never mind. You can’t like everybody. The Sagittarius temple is empty. So is the Libra one. You’ve already met Milo the Scorpio, or Scorpion Saint. We’ll take a shortcut there. Therefore we’ll go and see Virgo Shaka next.” Her eyes lit up at the name Virgo Shaka. She will soon solve one mystery in her mind.

Azar was definitely a fast walker. By the time they reached the Virgo temple, she was running after him, panting more than a little. The temple of the Virgin Saint was impressively built as all temples she had seen so far were. She liked these buildings, but heartily wished that there were not so many steep stairs in front of each one. At least she was only going down them, but the thought of the return journey made her sick. Azar seemed to be very used to hundreds of these stony steps, but she was definitely not.

As they finally reached the entrance to the temple, Azar stopped politely. She did so too, glad at the chance of a rest. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but she felt a great presence sweep over her mind. There was no time to work out what it was for Azar was already pulling on her arm, motioning her to enter.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight she saw. Someone, her mind managed to identify him as Virgo Shaka, was floating peacefully in mid-air. He was seated in the lotus position with his eyes lightly closed and palms pressed softly together. His blond hair dropped down the sides of his pale face with amazing length that fully justified the reason of him owning a brush. Millions of candles lit up the room, hiding the approaching dusk. He looked very like a living Buddha in her eyes.

Then, Azar whispered in her ear, “Virgo Shaka, the man closest to god.”

“Wow.”

“Impressed?”

“Of course. It’s not everyday that you get to meet someone like a god.”

“True. I must admit that when I first saw him I nearly fainted.”

“That extreme?” A little pause shrouded over them.

“Yes. I’d like to call it a transident …whatever experience.”

“You mean transcendental?”

“That’s it.” Another pause.

“Who’s next?”

“The proud Lion, Leo Aiolia.”

“Sit down, both of you. Make yourselves comfortable.”

She expelled a breath of relief. Some rest after travelling down steep stairs was urgently needed. This golden-haired Gold Saint seemed to be unusually friendly after her meeting with the distant Virgo Shaka. Azar was already happily talking to Aiolia. This was not how he spoke to the Pope, the Capricorn or Pisces Saint, like a servant to his master. Nor was it the formal way he talked to Virgo Shaka, like a mere mortal to a great god. She had seen him talk thus to other servants and Scorpio Milo at times. They were chatting casually like a pair of old friends.

“Poor you. Did it hurt?”

“Of course it did,” protested Azar. “Milo didn’t even ask me properly before he slit my wrist.” He rubbed his wrists protectively.

Cyadoria shook herself from her thoughtful silence. “Sorry about that again, Azar. And thank you for giving blood again.”

Aiolia raised an eyebrow. “I see. He’s been going on about that for ages. That is something Azar would do. You’ll never get him to stop mentioning it until some other unfortunate soul had a need for his blood.”

“Hey,” Azar hit the Gold Saint quite hard, as far as she could judge, on the shoulder. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m totally neutral. Just commenting.” Aiolia rubbed his shoulder and cocked his head innocently to the left.

Azar took in a deep breath as if getting ready for a long talk, but then expelled his breath as he changed his mind. Instead, he shook his head hopelessly.

“Unthankful,” he muttered with an evil look at Cyadoria.

“I’m not. I’ll repay you when I can.”

“Ignore him for a while and he will stop sulking,” Aiolia turned to speak to her. “How are you finding Sanctuary, by the way?”

“It’s a strange place. The people here are a bit unusual.”

“Ah,” he smiled, “either you’re putting it very delicately or you haven’t met Deathmask yet.”

To Aiolia’s expectation, Azar stopped his sulking.

“She hasn’t met him yet. Do you think we should go now, when there’s still some light, or leave him ‘til last?” His face was ashen. Somehow, he looked like he would much rather die than meet this Deathmask person. Her curiosity level shot up.

“Who else have you got to take her to?” Aiolia asked sympathetically.

“Since Mu’s in Tibet, there’s only Deathmask and Aldebaran.”

“Must she meet him?”

“Yes. The Pope ordered me to show her to all the present Gold Saints. I’m not going to go against the Pope.”

“No you’re not. Then ask her if she’s prepared yet. If not, take her to him last.”

Azar was definitely slowing his steps towards the Cancer temple. After he had persuaded her to visit the Taurus Saint first and taken her through a secret underground pathway to evade the Cancer Temple, they had no choice but to go to see Deathmask. However, he was still trying to delay the inevitable.

She must admit Aldebaran was a nice person. He was perhaps one of the most normal in Sanctuary. The only oddity about him was his enormous physical size. That was suiting for an Ox Saint though.

Now they were moving at snails pace up the dull grey steps. Azar had also fallen completely silent. He was bracing himself for the Cancer Saint. She did not know why and, being half a Cancer herself, she could not see how another Cancer could be so frightening. Then, Azar completely stopped as they reached the looming temple.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I could try and explain to the Pope that we didn’t have time today and take you there tomorrow.”

“But we’re already here. Why don’t we go in?”

“Your choice.”

This is the first temple where he was walking behind her. She had a strange impression that he might be using her as a shield. The feeling of unease increased up the stairs. She looked back to check that he was still there, only to see him trembling visibly. Steeling herself, she resolutely walked up the remaining stairs at a slow and steady speed. This preserved energy so she could always run down them quickly if anything went wrong. At the top of the stairs, she felt every single muscle in her body tense in a natural fight-or-flight reflex developed from years on the perilous streets. Nevertheless, she went in only to be greeted by thousands of screaming voices and a sinister laughter. When she chanced a glimpse behind her shoulders, Azar was nowhere to be seen. Instead, hurried footsteps running downward could be heard. She considered taking the same route herself, but her curiosity urged her against it. She had already got so far. Why turn back now? As her eyes adjusted to the dim light in this temple, the wall decorations gave her a very good reason for doing so. Thousands of screwed faces stared at her with absolute horror. She finally understood the meaning of Deathmask. His name certainly well deserved. The masks were the ones who produced the screaming. Soon, she faced the producer of that laughter.

He held himself proudly like other Gold Saints. His face could be called handsome if not for a sinister smile that chilled her blood. However, unlike Aiolia, he was not dressed in normal clothes. The golden light produced by his armour was blinding.

“Who is the one who dares to disturb my Cancer House?” The question awkwardly hanged in the air for a while.

“I come with no harmful intent,” her mind scrolled quickly over all the things she could say and which was the best possibility. “I am new to Sanctuary and the Pope thought that I should come and greet everyone.”

“And why should I believe you? You could be an enemy of Sanctuary.” That cruel smile widened. “In that case, it would be best to deal with you now.”

So that option did not work. She had to keep him talking.

“Deal with me? How?”

“How would you like to join my little collection?” He swiped his arm in the general direction of his walls. She was forced to look at those screeching masks again and averted her eyes quickly. She was definitely feeling sick. Just keep talking, she told herself.

“Are you saying that you want to kill me?” This meeting was not going well.

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. The light around him intensified. The screaming grew louder.

“Well,” she rummaged in her mind for something else to say. “Do I get to chose how, or are you just going to pick a random death for me?”

He seemed to be slightly amused by that. This was probably a good sign, but it was hard to tell. She was usually good at judging how to deal with people, but she had never met anyone vaguely similar to Deathmask.

He was still running away from the Cancer temple. Fear took over his mind, squeezing out any room for rational judgements. Suddenly, he remembered why he went there in the first place. He turned around but she was not there. She must have lagged behind when they ran away. He decided to wait for her. The Pope would be annoyed with him if he left her behind.

In a while, she would catch up.

He waited. And waited.

But she did not come.

Instead, there was a flare of Cosmo from the Cancer temple. It was easy to identify it as the Cosmo of a Gold Saint. A horrible thought occurred to him. He started running again, but this time towards the temple.

She winced again at the horrific details that Deathmask was providing for her hypothetical death, which would no longer be hypothetical if she did not think of a way to get out of this mess. He seemed to be happy to describe her cruel and painful death though. Running was not an option. These Sanctuary people had supernatural powers. If Azar, a servant, could run that fast, then a Saint could certainly easily outrun her. She had to stay and play along.

“What have we got here,” a familiar voice interrupted Deathmask. An amazing feeling of relief swamped over her. “Cyadoria, where’s Azar?”

“He … disappeared when we were approaching here.”

“I see,” then Mirabel turned to Deathmask, “Please don’t frighten her anymore. She’s not an enemy, really. The Pope saved her life. I don’t think he will be very pleased if you killed her.”

Deathmask did not flinch at that remark. His glow did dim, though.

“I was warning her. Anyway, even if I did kill her, I don’t think the Pope would be too exasperated. A Gold Saint, especially one who totally supports him, is much more important to him than a little girl.”

“Whatever you say. Here’s your dinner.” She set down two plates in her hands. “Hope you’ll be in a better mood when you’ve filled your stomach. And you, Cyadoria, are coming with me.”

She thankfully followed Mirabel down the stairs, where they saw Azar running up desperately.

“Oh, thank Athena you’re fine,” he said with relief when he saw her.

“Actually, thank me,” replied Mirabel. Then she said accusingly, “Where were you, Azar? Deathmask confronted her, for goodness sake. He has never seen her before, so how do you suppose that she can persuade him she really does belong here? And how is she supposed to defend herself? She doesn’t even know what Cosmo is. When I went in, he was talking about peeling off her skin.”

“Sorry, I sort of….”

“Chicken out? Too scared? I have to bring food to him three times a day, and you can’t even bring yourself to go to him once?”

“Sorry.”

“A piece of advice to you. If you want to go and see Deathmask, go after he’s eaten. Of course I don’t have the choice, but you do. Hunger puts him in a bad mood. Not that he’s much more pleasant, but he at least wouldn’t try to kill everyone who goes to see him.”

Alone in his temple, Deathmask swallowed down the last chunk of chicken with a mouthful of celery. Sanctuary food was not delicious, but at least it calmed the growling in his stomach. He tossed the dirty plates on his table and sank into a comfortable chair, licking his lips satisfyingly. That new girl was definitely very frightened of him by now. A smile crept up the corners of his lips as he remembered her pale face. She would definitely never come to disturb him again. He had again managed to keep his temple quiet. This was just how he liked it.