June watched Shun leave to start his vigil, barely listening to Milo standing beside her.

"An interesting greeting your.. associate gave, what is its origin..?"

She turned her attention to him. They had left Reda, Spica and the others behind as they walked to the huts. Both could hear the whispers behind them but chose to ignore them.

"Albior taught us all that are links in a great chain, united in defence of Athena, each added link gives strength to all, a weak link can break the whole chain. "

"Elegantly phrased, I have heard similar sentiments from other Saints, but few so succinctly."

"Albior was always like that. Do Gold Saints not see their duty in that light?"

"Our position is rather more.. isolated.. than that of Bronze or Silver Saints. Few Gold Saints would fight side by side. The release of power would be quite capable of sundering the world."

There was something about the matter of fact way he said it that chilled June, particularly in light of what she knew she had to do.

She straightened and faced him, taking a deep breath before reciting the formal words.

"Milo Gold Scorpio Saint, listen to my words. A weak link in the chain is unacceptable and must be tempered in fire. I would be remiss in my duties as a pupil of the Cepehus Saint if I did not do this. I June, Bronze Chameleon Saint, challenge you to single combat."

"No sneak attack this time, Milo, this will be straightforward one to one combat at dawn, and let justice prevail."

Milo's face was hard as stone, "I wondered when this might happen, and I regret it deeply. I ask you to reconsider your position, I have never been defeated in combat. You may retract without loss of honour, to you or your Master."

"My thanks for the offer, but that is unacceptable. We will meet at the training grounds at sunrise. It is just to the west of here."

Milo didn't even pause, but June took a little consolation in the fact he didn't sound happy about the situation.

"As you wish. Do you require a second in this duel? I am sure Shun would oblige if you asked him."

"I require no second, I deliberately waited until Shun was not present. My fight is with you and you alone and I do not wish him to become involved in this."

"And if I fight and kill you, do you not think he will become involved?"

"You make assumptions Milo, I might win our battle."

"Perhaps, and perhaps the sun will not rise tomorrow, but I would not wager on that outcome. I am a Gold Saint and you are but a Bronze."

"Didn't you say something similar to Hyoga?"

"Though he did not actually defeat me, that was a rather special case; Athena's Chosen are on a totally different power curve to any previous Saint. Believe me when I say that no one is more surprised by their puissance than the Gold Saints. We find it.. intriguing."

"All the same, maybe I am on that curve too. Maybe this is a part of the development of all the Bronze Saints in this era."

"Perhaps it is as you say, it will be interesting to see."

June found it hard to believe that within moments of accepting a challenge  they were engaged in a discussion on the physics of cosmo manipulation. The Scorpio Saint was strange that way, combat and death was such a part of his life he didn't waste excess energy on it.

"Until then, we will prepare. Sybil will show you to the quarters prepared for you, and take you to challenge ground in the morning." She gestured and one of the other students, who had been waiting nearby, came forward and led Milo away.

+ + + +

June unpacked her few belongings in what remained of her old quarters. She had been fortunate, only two of the walls had been destroyed and the roof was nearly intact.

As she removed the few Clothes and trinkets she taken with her she came across the gift Shun had given her; a brown, wide-brimmed hat.

Seiya had dragged Hyoga and Shun to the movies one night in an attempt to cheer themselves up (Shiryu having left to get his and Seiya's Cloths repaired). It turned out to be a Japanese dub of "Raiders of the Lost Ark". They'd enjoyed it, but Hyoga and Seiya were puzzled by Shun's uncontrollable fits of giggles during Indiana Jones' whip-wielding scenes. He'd explained about June, and what she'd have thought of his rather amateurish technique.

He had rented the video to show her after the Sanctuary Battle, and had given her an Indiana Jones-style hat afterwards as a sign that he didn't hold her actions against her. She accepted with good grace and didn't even mind, at first, when he kept calling her Indiana June, even though it made her inwardly wince each time. After three days, she had gently told him that if he ever used the term again, she would break his arms, Chains of Andromeda or no. He'd looked crestfallen for a minute, but she hadn't been able to keep a straight face, even behind her mask, Shun was so easy to tease. He had got the hint though.

She held the hat for a long time before storing it with the rest of her possessions. She had a lot to do to prepare for the morning. With that thought in mind she left the shack that had been her home for over six years, possibly for the last time.

+ + + +

She stood in the middle of a natural arena in one of the island's few sheltered spots. Though the sky was dark, there were torches around the edges. Not that she really needed them, one of the advantages of being the Chameleon Saint was her exceptional eyesight. It had always been good, but now, both in terms of clarity and sensitivity it was superb. Though she lacked the independent eyes of her namesake, she had an angle of vision well over 180 degrees, making it almost impossible to sneak up on her.

Knowing that sleep would be pointless attempt, she moved through her focusing exercises. These were a series of kata that Albior had shown her soon after her arrival on the Island, elegant movements that kept her muscle control finely tuned. And as she relaxed, moving through the graceful steps, she let her mind slip back to Albior and her arrival on the Isle of Andromeda...

She had never understood why her father had sent her away after her mother had died. She wanted to be near him so much, but she could see the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at her. She knew he loved her, but that he had loved her mother more. It was a sobering realisation for a seven year old that her father blamed her for surviving the car crash that had killed his wife.

She took to making herself as inconspicuous as possible, fading into the background so she wouldn't upset him. She became very good at it.

Even at school she was always the one at the back of the crowd, the last picked for games, the quiet one no one felt too comfortable around, yet she was not really shy or retiring, just.. uninterested. She also got something of a reputation the day that she saw two larger boys picking on a much younger kid. Without saying a word she had simply walked up to them and punched one in the face, breaking his nose, and knocking the other clean off his feet with a sweeping side-kick to his stomach. After that, and still silent, she had simply walked away.

Back at home she knew that her father's business had not been going well. Once a large Japanese export firm with branches all around the world (She herself had been born on a trip to Ethiopia her mother had made, against her husband's wishes), his neglect of it after her mother's death had led to a significant slump in business, and he was deeply in debt.

Then one night a man had called round, a distinguished looking elderly Japanese man with a thick white beard and wearing an expensive suit. He was accompanied by a massive man, bald and wearing a dinner suit that did nothing to disguise his thuggish nature.

The old man and her father hadn't spoken for long, but voices had been raised and she knew that she had been the topic of conversation. At the end of the shouting match, the old man and his companion had strode out, and she had seen her father slumped on the couch with his head in his hands, apparently crying.

A few days later her father had told her that she was not going back to school, but was going to stay with a friend of a friend on an island far away, where she would have exciting adventures. Automatically suspicious when any adult spoke to her like that, she had questioned him, wanting to know where it was, and exactly what she'd be doing. It wasn't until she had asked how long it was to be for, that he had become evasive about that and changed the subject. She knew then that it was likely to be a long term situation.

When she was on the boat, she had turned to wave goodbye to her father, but he had already vanished. They had never talked since that day.

She was relieved when she had finally arrived on the Island. The boat had made many stops to pick up other children her age en route, and she had soon discovered that she was NOT a good sailor. There to greet them all on the jetty was strangely dressed young man. He seemed friendly and open enough, though she thought the metal suit he wore looked a little odd, and the chains he carried around his arms looked VERY heavy. However, he wore the armour with effortless dignity, and she found herself immediately warming to him.

Albior's whole demeanour inspired trust, which was just as well as over the next few days he made several strange demands of her. The face mask was the weirdest. He explained that it was a rule that all the girls on the island had to wear full face masks ALL the time and never let any boy or man see her bare face EVER. He explained why this was, but she didn't particularly like it, it sounded awfully sexist somehow. Still, the fine mesh eyepieces didn't really inconvenience her that much, and she was determined to make a good impression on Albior.

Then he gathered all the children together and explained about Athena, and her Saints, and the awesome powers they possessed. And he explained that it was his job to help find and train new Saints and she might well be one of them. He told them that their parents agreed that Albior would look after them for the next few years and see how they developed. If they failed or decided not to try for a Cloth then they could either return home or stay with Albior as his guest and pupil for as long as they chose. Life would be hard, but it could well be very rewarding.

Knowing that going home wouldn't solve her problems, she decided to stay and learn what she could. She felt very grown up making such an important decision by herself and Albior seemed pleased with her choice.

One of the first things she did during this time was to make the acquaintance of several of the other new students. Three struck her as being memorable. Two young punks called Spica and Reda immediately got on her wrong side. They were loud swaggering bullies, and she made sure that they quickly learned to leave her alone. They were sore losers, but they knew they were losers, which was close enough for her needs.

The third was altogether different. Shun was the youngest student by far. He was very small, definitely on the puny side and seemed very withdrawn. He was obviously homesick as hell and he kept crying for his big brother and his friends. June had never seen anyone quite as lonely as this boy clearly was. Though Albior never said a word, it became obvious to her that he expected her to help deal with the situation.

She made every effort to talk to him and reassure him. Many nights she "sneaked" in to see him in his quarters "behind Albior's back" (though she KNEW he had seen her at least twice) and they talked long into the early hours of the morning. It seemed to help both of them, but she remained unconvinced Shun would ever be strong enough to last through his training. Still, there was a strength behind the huge green eyes that she glimpsed sometimes, which she wondered if Shun even knew existed. He certainly knew how to persevere.

She made a conscious decision almost straight away that the rule about the face-mask should be relaxed around Shun. If Albior wanted her to reassure a young kid like Shun then there had to be a bit of leeway allowed and there was no way she was doing it behind an immobile metal mask. She knew what the implications were of her taking it off in a boys presence, and she knew trouble discovery would cause, but she felt she had a special, albeit unofficial, dispensation from Albior in this case.

After several months of observing the children, Albior separated them into two groups. He explained to the group she was in that they seemed best suited to try for the Bronze Chameleon Cloth. He explained to them the method by which the Chameleon Cloth would allow it's bearer to find it.

"Other Saints earn their Cloths through straightforward combat, the winner takes the Cloth. Some achieve there's by a single act of focusing their cosmo-energy. My students are different, the Cloths available here require special demands for their bearer, each is different, each is unique. All I can say to you is that the Chameleon Cloth is in a cave within the central mountain of this Island, and whoever is the first to reach it will have earned the right to wear it."

June had been deeply shocked, she had expected rather more than a treasure hunt to be involved in earning a Cloth. It had even sounded quite fun, an exciting way for a girl to spend a few months, but her nature made her cautious. There had to be something Albior wasn't telling them about this.

Of course she had been right. It had taken far, far longer than a few months. Quickly realising that a team effort was NOT the best way to go about earning a single sloth, she and her fellow students split up and searched, only meeting up for the compulsory training sessions, and educational lessons that Albior insisted upon ("A true warrior need not be particularly intelligent, but a wise warrior will make sure he is" as Albior had phrased it).

She learned to mask her emotions and read those in others, even through the steel masks. She recognised that seeming to be too excited about something would be a trigger for others. Gradually she developed a mask far more complete than the one she wore on her face, and she hid behind it constantly, only allowing Shun to see her true face and, even harder for her, her true feelings.

It took her literally _years_ of methodical examination and mapping of the tunnels to work out where the only place that there could be a cave of any size was. Along with the training in marital arts and philosophies Albior had given them, she had learned other skills to help her in her search; mapping unknown territory methodically, how to scale a rock-face without equipment, how to balance on a precarious rock bridge less than an inch across, how to dislocate her limbs voluntarily so she could move through gaps smaller than she was, how to inch through tunnels barely wide enough to hold her. In short, and in retrospect, a full complement of subtle infiltration skills.

And her skill with the whip was nothing short of spectacular. For several months at the start, Albior had trained her in the use of chains as weapons, but when her basically aggressive nature became clear, he had quietly suggested that she might prefer to switch to something else, like the whip. She knew now it was because she had clearly displayed the wrong properties for a potential Andromeda Saint, but at the time it had just seemed like another of his helpful suggestions.

Though the number of students dwindled alarmingly over the years, as they either gave up in disgust, were injured, vanished or just plain died, June kept with it, knowing that she had nothing to return home for. If she could find the Cloth she would be able to do as SHE chose.

When she finally found the entrance to the cave it had nearly killed her there and then. Rocks as big as her head rained down from the roof of the tunnel as she approached the area and would have smashed her beneath them, but she reacted fast enough to use her whip to deflect them for just long enough to get out of their way.

Careful, and long distance, examination of the door led her to deduce the opening mechanism, a precise series of half concealed "keystones" to be struck in a logical sequence. Several weeks of intensive training in the necessary techniques allowed her to use her whip and marital arts to both deflect the falling rocks and strike the correct keystones with lightning speed. She was proud of her achievement, sure that the Cloth would be behind the door, of course it wasn't even that simple....

The cave was huge and filled with candles, thousands of them, covering the floor and the many ledges around the cave. From the ceiling hung dozens of long strands of a gossamer-like material that dangled almost to the floor. She could make out small bells on the ends of them.

And there, at the far end of the cave, sitting in the only pool of shadow in the whole place was a dark block-like shape that she knew had to contain what she had been hunting for years.

As soon as she had started moving across the room she felt air currents, that must have been steady for centuries, being disturbed by her very presence, causing some of the candles to gutter and blow out. With each extinguished candle, she could see the chest on it's plinth sink further into the stone plinth it lay on, and she suspected that too many candles blown out would then make the Cloth permanently inaccessible.

And then she brushed against one of the strands, causing the bell to ring faintly. Immediately there came a rumbling noise and the doors to the cave started to close again. She sensed rather than knew that if she were to be stuck in here she would be stuck for good, Cloth or no Cloth, and it took a flying leap to prevent that. She then had to scramble out of the way of yet more rocks.

Now she knew roughly what to expect, she had time to prepare a plan of action. The Chameleon Cloth clearly respected and required stealth and subtlety and so that was how she would approach this chance to win it. Her emotionless mask was harder than ever to maintain, and she lived in dread of someone else finding out about the cave and beating her to HER Cloth.

She practised for weeks, refining methods she had learned to control her every movement and motion with perfect accuracy. She asked Albior to teach her breathing techniques and he willingly showed her, without asking why.

And finally the day dawned when she knew she was ready.

She sought Shun out the night before her attempt. Her "little brother" (She'd long since come to think of him that way, he was quintessential little brother material) had grown taller over the years, of course, but hadn't filled out the way most of the students had done. He still looked far too delicate to ever be a trained fighter.

June had seen him in training many times, and he was still a mystery to her. He never, EVER struck the first blow, and usually tried talking his opponent out of fighting, even when it was clearly a hopeless cause. Though she knew full well he was probably more skilled with his chains than she was with her whip, he was loathe to use them against any living thing. And in any sort of straightforward hand to hand combat he was an utter disaster.

Still he kept on trying and even seemed to win more often than he should, allowing his opponent's own momentum and attack to defeat themselves. More than that, she found she had grown to respect his pacifism, which wasn't based on cowardice as some others, such as Spica and Reda, thought, but on a carefully thought out rationale against violence. He really believed that violence was abhorrent and should always be the last resort (redundant). She didn't agree with that personally, but their arguments had always been good-natured.

She explained her plan of action to him. As not only a friend but a candidate for the Andromeda Cloth she knew she didn't have to worry about him trying to beat her to it (sometimes the depths of her paranoia worried even herself). His first reaction had been to worry about her and try to convince her not to go, but he soon saw she was determined and instead offered suggestions as to techniques she might find useful. There were several that she hadn't actually considered and which struck her as eminently sensible. Shun had been near to tears when she left him.

And so at dawn the next day she had made her way to the cave.

The door, which had first challenged her, now seemed almost laughably easy. The tip of her whip danced across the keystones and struck the rocks falling from the roof between each strike. A graceful rolling movement dodged the remaining falling rocks as she dove into the cave, braking smoothly to prevent any air disturbance within the cave.

It was exactly as it had been when she had first entered, the candles were re-lit and did not seem to have dwindled, sustained by some power she could not understand as yet. With a deep, and VERY slow breath she set out.

Her approach to the plinth took hours, every move was cautious and exact. She crawled and slithered with painful slowness, her individual movements flowing into one long smooth, sequence. Several times she nearly cried out with pain as she lingered too close to a candle flame or had to bend her back into awkward positions for a long time. More than once an itchy nose nearly proved the death of her. She had to listen for upcoming air currents, as by the time she could feel them it would probably be too late to do anything about it.

There were unforeseen hazards too, loose rocks on the floor that might have triggered Athena alone knew what. At one point she had to scale the wall and crawl along it for several feet, clinging like a lizard to the few outcroppings from the smooth surface. The strain on her hands, feet and knees was excruciating. She was thankful she had bound her hair up, otherwise she might have set it on fire.

After what felt like at least six months she neared the plinth. She couldn't waste the concentration to study anything other than her next step, so it wasn't until she was right next to it that she realised what had been troubling her for the last five feet or so. The box on the plinth was... wrong.

She had seen Albior's Cloth chest a couple of times, and this had none of the detailed carving that his had, or the leather carrying straps. It was nothing but a plain silvery metal box with a word carved into the top of it in Greek. Albior had taught her a little, enough to work out the word meant "Behind". She moved to the back of the box, taking another twenty minutes for that alone, but the space behind the plinth was empty too.

It was with a dawning sense of dread that she slowly turned round to face the way she had come. It was so obvious it was unbelievable. There, at the top of the arched doorway of the cave's entrance was a niche, it would barely have been visible from any angle less than halfway across the floor. In the niche she could make out a metal box, lit by candles on either side of it and behind it. Just enough illumination to make clear what it was, at least from this angle.

The Cloth had been hidden in plain sight, less than four feet from where she had been before she had started this whole exercise! She hadn't suspected a thing, everything had been so geared to challenging her to get across the floor that it had been the perfect camouflage for the Chameleon Cloth. She had to stifle an almost hysterical laugh.

And so she started back across the floor, moving just as carefully. She didn't know what disturbing the candle flames would do THIS time, but had no desire to find out. Every muscle in her body ached and she longed to make a random movement, but she knew that could still be fatal.

At last she reached the entrance to the cave again. She had to climb up and around the archway, which was the last thing her throbbing back wanted, and braced herself. She reached up and with both hands seized the chest, pulling it towards her. As she did so, every candle in the cave dimmed somehow, and a violet glow spread out from the chest, filling every corner of the cave.

She did a back-flip to the floor, secure in the inner knowledge that whatever happened now, the perils of the cave were finished. The chest opened and what emerged was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. If one were honest it resembled nothing so much as a bug-eyed, long- tailed lizard cast in deep blue and silver metal, but to her it was the pinnacle of nearly five years hard work. And now it was calling to her.

She spread her arms, dropped her whip and stood tall, releasing a mental command she didn't even know she knew. The Cloth glowed brighter and flew apart, whirling through the air as parts altered slightly and folded in on themselves in strange ways she couldn't find words to describe. The Cloth snapped into place around her with a series of sharp clang-ing noises. She found herself bending and whirling instinctively to meet each part. It was a perfect fit, of course. Lastly the tail slapped itself into her hand.

As, she looked down at herself, she felt suffused with energy unlike any she had known before. She was wearing a pink body-suit that the Cloth must have somehow made out of her normal Clothing. The metal itself was light, warm and seemed to be breathing along with her. It was so flexible and so cunningly crafted that it didn't impede her movement one iota. Even the high heeled boots didn't cause her the balance problems she might have expected.

Looking at the "bug-eyed bustier" she seemed to have been given, she did wonder for a moment what a male warrior would have liked wearing the outfit, especially the high heels. She laughed out loud at the image of Spica in this Cloth. Somewhere within her a new, quiet voice was explaining that allowances would have been made, besides Saints weren't the sort of people who got laughed at, at least not more than once.

For the first time since before her mother had died she allowed herself to experience pure joy. For a few moments she allowed herself to be the young girl she was, rather than the serious student image she had hidden behind. She span on the spot, she punched the air, she actually whooped with delight.

There was a clapping from just beyond the still open doors and she spun round, happiness forgotten, her new whip lashing out almost before she could direct it.

Albior deflected the tip of the whip with his own chain. He leaned casually against the doorway before standing straight, then bowed deeply, the first and only time she would ever see him bow to anyone.

"Somehow I knew it would be you, others came close, but the fire of the cosmo burned brightest within you, no matter how you tried to hide it. Congratulations June, Bronze Chameleon Saint! You have earned your Cloth with skill and grace, and have also learnt the first lesson of the Chameleon Saint; 'Confuse those who seek you, and you have won your first victory'. May your link in the chain be strong. Defend Athena unto death."

"I thank you master, for your training and encouragement. I will do honour by you and Athena in all my actions." The words sprang into her head unbidden.

"I can ask no more, and expect no less, than that."

The formality he had forced on what should have been a joyous occasion was starting to get to her; "Master Albior, I feel so... strong.. so powerful. Like I can do anything." Effortlessly, her sore muscles suddenly not hurting in the slightest, she flicked her wrist and sent her new whip lashing out.

Unlike her early whips, which had been leather, this one was made of coiled metal and she knew it would be able to shatter rocks with its tip. With a cracking noise, the tip struck a candle flame and knocked the flame clean off the candle! She sensed she had struck just below the tip of the wick and separated it from the rest of the candle without disturbing the flame or the candles on either side. She tried again and again, and each time the tip struck with pinpoint accuracy, the whip stretching to exactly the required length each time.

Albior smiled at her. "That is a common feeling on gaining one's Cloth, I have observed. It will fade as you realise your new limitations as well as your new strengths. Now your training REALLY begins. The attack of the Chameleon is strong, but your main strength comes from your subtler powers, your defences. Come, we have much to discuss."

Proudly the Bronze Chameleon Saint accompanied the Silver Cepheus Saint outside. She couldn't wait to show Shun what she had achieved, and if she could rub Spica and Reda's noses in it a little by doing so, well so much the better.

+ + + +

Albior had spoken only the truth, the training she had received from him had been a revelation. The Cloth allowed her to mimic the powers of her namesake.

Even when not using the Cloth's real power she could render herself... not invisible certainly, but just.. less obvious. Unless you were looking for her deliberately you wouldn't notice her, and even if you did you probably wouldn't be able to recall her appearance a minute later.

Albior also taught her to interpret body language, and what he called "blind spot stalking". She had been aware that at times it was possible to get close to someone without them reacting, without triggering their peripheral vision, but normally it was an unconscious action. Now she learned how to do it deliberately, moving in such a way that her movements wouldn't register with anyone, moving within their blind spot until she was almost right on top of them.

Wearing the Cloth was a whole different story, her cosmo could render her truly invisible, which, considering what she looked like wearing the Cloth, was really saying something. She learned to practice in secret since revealing her abilities would render them less useful in combat.

But the study of cosmo and the mysterious Seventh sense occupied most of her time. She learned to sense the cosmo within herself and how to use the Cloth to create her own special defensive techniques. And needless to say, her skills with her new whip were astonishing.

She and Albior became closer than ever, now they had grown from student and teacher to fellow Saints. They spoke for hours about their respective lives and experiences. They had never become lovers, though they had discussed it, now that she was old enough to know her own mind about such things. Both felt that that would have pointlessly complicated their relationship. June, skilled at spotting concealment in others, realised that there was someone else in her sensei's life, though she respected his privacy.

She learned how to pass skills and knowledge onto others. She still felt that Albior's greatest achievement had been to teach her to teach. "A lone link is worthless, a chain has potential" he had said.

And so it had continued for several months. During that time she had also had to watch Shun nearly get himself drowned earning the Andromeda Cloth. She had been against him even trying from the start, but the strength of purpose she had always known he had surfaced and he had beaten the Trial of Andromeda.

Albior's pride in his two students was almost tangible, and he was obviously worried about Shun leaving so soon, but he claimed pressing business and the desire to see his brother again, and from long discussions over the years both June and Albior knew how pointless it was to argue THAT point with Shun.

She had not been present at their final conversation, but she would have had to have been blind not to feel the energy that was released during it's course, the fractured cliff and Albior's Cloth being damaged were also sort of give-aways. Yet she had detected no animosity between them. That had puzzled her for a while, until she worked up the courage to ask Albior himself.

"As a final gesture, the Andromeda Saint released his TRUE power for me to see." Albior's tone was quiet, but she spotted the tell-tale indications of pride in his body language.

"That cosmo energy came from SHUN?!" June had automatically assumed it was Albior's power that had ruptured his own Cloth somehow. She couldn't conceive of Shun releasing THAT much power.

Albior frowned for a moment; "Could you not tell? Of course, I have not yet shown you how to differentiate between cosmo energy signatures in others have I? You have only ever witnessed Shun's and my own, and the historic links of our Cloths make ours similar. Come and I will show you the precise method."

She had not enquired further, realising she was treading on delicate - and frankly worrying - ground, but relieved that Shun and Albior had parted amicably.

And, inevitably, she recalled the day when it had all ended. She had been taking a class along with several of the remaining students. Spica and Reda had appeared wearing the weird distorted Cloths, patterned after Shun and Albior's Cloths, that they had made for themselves. She could, at times, sense something approximating a cosmo signature from them, but it was erratic and unreliable. Albior had made it clear he wanted a quiet word with them afterwards, but still they preened themselves. June was no longer entirely sure they were sane, certainly they had taken defeat at Shun's hands badly.

And then, from nowhere, came devastation in the form of the Gold Scorpio Saint, Milo!

Albior had mentioned the Gold Saints to her, and explained how they outranked him as he outranked her, but there was nothing that could prepare her for witnessing one in action.

His powers had been breathtaking. He had laid waste to the landscape with a glittering golden firestorm, rocks had shattered at his mere passage. Trees had been blown about like matches. His voice had boomed like thunder.

"Albior, I am sent by the Kyoko to execute a traitor."

"Who might you seek here? Our loyalty is unquestioned."

"The Kyoko has named you traitor to Athena and outcast from her ranks. Sentence will be carried out immediately."

Albior had looked nonplussed "I am loyal to Athena now as I have always been. The Kyoko must be mistaken or mad."

"I am not here to argue, I only obey orders."

"And that will be your downfall." Albior's voice dropped towards a whisper, "June, stay back, guard the others as best you can. When this is finished, seek out Shun and make sure he knows what happened. There must be something wrong with the Kyoko, I have had suspicions, but this is the first proof."

What followed was branded into her memory for all time. Albior had never fought better, and it seemed for some time that he was holding his own. Even Milo seemed surprised at the puissance of the Silver Saint. Albior's chains whirled and struck over and over but Milo was moving so fast he left multiple images behind himself and Albior struck at illusions most of the time.

Then, for no reason she could work out at the time, Albior weakened, for only a second perhaps but that was all the time Milo needed. He struck home with a lance of pure golden light that pierced Albior's chest. Albior's cosmo faded from her perceptions as he fell to earth. He did not move again.

Milo didn't even waste time checking the body, he simply vanished via whatever strange means he had used to arrive.

June ran to her mentor but it was clear there was nothing that could be done, he lay broken and still. Strangely, there was a rose beside his body. Strange because June could not remember ever seeing a rose-bush anywhere on the island, and Milo didn't seem to be the type who would go in for such theatrics.

As the other students gathered around their master, she saw tears in several eyes, and felt them in her own. Spica and Reda's expressions were unreadable, but even now they worried June, this pair were capable of anything.

His last words echoed in her ears, and when she finally trusted her voice enough to speak it was to swear a vow.

"I lost Albior today because of the Kyoko, I will stop from Shun from taking the same risks, even if I have to break both his legs to do so".

Giving the other students instructions on what to do with the body, she stood and walked away, and didn't look back.

+ + + +

She brought herself back to the present reluctantly. A small crowd of students who had heard the rumours and wanted to see her in action, for the last time if nothing else, had gathered.

Ignoring them, she moved into a whip attack procedure that she had worked out for herself. The whip spun and struck the vital points on one of the timeworn statues around the arena; Head, throat, chest, stomach, hand, groin and knees were struck in less than two seconds.

She nodded to one of the students who recognised the sign and nodded. He threw a small stone up in the air. She shattered it into pieces with one strike, then, before the pieces could fall to earth, she reduced it to yet smaller pieces and then practically to dust. As always her whip seemed to do most of the work, but it was her skill guiding it.

She lashed out again as she flicked her wrist from side to side creating what amounted to a solid barrier that nothing could penetrate. So far, given her limited experience fighting for Athena so far, it had served her well.

Albior had sent her to deal with the Bronze Crane Saint, one of his former students who had been involved in a shady deal with Gigar, the Kyoko's dubious second in command, and she had been able to soundly defeat him before whatever he was planning had been put into action.

And now she had dared to challenge a Gold Saint. She knew that she stood little chance, or if she was honest, none at all. The gesture had to be made however. She had bided her time, knowing that Saori would have prevented her if she had known, and her oath to Athena would make the injunction binding. She was surprised that Athena hadn't been able to divine her intentions. It had been almost impossible keeping Shun in the dark too, but the Chameleon Saint was always good at concealing things.

As she saw the light of the sun start to break on the horizon, she stood, offered a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening and headed towards the beach to face her future, however short that might be. Her masks, both within and without, were intact and she would confront destiny as she had everything in her life, on HER terms.

+ - + - +

End of Part 2

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