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There was a clatter in one of the small shacks that severed as housing for the Saints.  Ptolemy grumbled and picked up the bowl he had dropped, echoing the growing of his stomach.  He eyed the meager assortment of food he had left and sighed.    He was hungry now but unless he wanted to try the old bread that was starting to look moldy, he was out of luck.

Maybe he should have gone shopping earlier.  He had some free time then, maybe he should have used it.  Now it was either miss lunch and starve or go beg food off of someone else.

“Starving isn’t a fitting end for a Saint,” he muttered to himself and went to look for someone who be willing to share.  Asterion wasn’t at home but that was hardly a surprise.  He was probably down supervising trainees.   Testing the new trainees before they were handed off to someone who would train them for a Cloth was one of Asterion’s duties and he was good at.   But that left him with little time to just hang around doing nothing.

Moses also wasn’t home.  He could be anywhere since he didn’t have any official duties in Sanctuary.  Aside from the patrols around the perimeter that the Pope had the all Saints run, there were only a few Saints who were given specific duties.   Right now Moses was probably off training somewhere.   His stomach growled again and Ptolemy seriously considered sneaking into Asterion’s kitchen.  The Hound Saint always had extra and should be willing to share.    But he had done that once before and Asterion had gotten mad at him.  He had felt guilty about doing  things like that anyway, so he decided against the idea.     Instead he decided to go bug Asterion himself.   Maybe the Hound Saint would be willing to share whatever he had for lunch with him.

The training ground for the new trainees were at the edge of Sanctuary.   This was the children brought in would be trained for a year or two as the learned Greek  and the basic physical strength to become Saints.    Then the ones that showed promise would be handed over to more permanent Masters.   Asterion was a good at getting results and that was why he had been posted there.

The shouts and occasional cries of childish voices greeted him as he made his way over to the training ground.   Not all of the noise as in Greek either, since half of the children here couldn’t even speak if fluently yet.   As he neared he noticed Asterion moving among the trainees, correcting a punch or kick there, shifting the stance of another.    He wasn’t being as rough as he could be with them, but Asterion knew he was being far from gently.  Coddling the trainees would only mean death.    At least his friend took a break, stepping away from the trainees.

“They look good,” Ptolemy said conversationally as he went to join his friend.

“Not really,”  Asterion answered, surveying the group.  “They just sent in a batch of new recruits.  I’ve got the older ones working with them for now, but later on I’ll have to pair them against one another to later on.  Then you’ll see that they really aren’t that great yet.  Now…” the Hound Saint turned his gaze on his friend.  “What do you want?”

“Nothing really,” Ptolemy answered as he tried to work out a way to get to the topic of food.  “I was just curious what you were doing.  Moses isn’t home either, so I thought he might be down here with you…”

Asterion leveled a searching glare at the other Saint, then sighed and turned back to the trainees.  “No,” he said firmly.

“What…?” Ptolemy asked slightly confused.

“No, I’m not giving you anything.  It’s your own fault if you were too lazy to take care of things.”  Asterion said as he watched the children.  “You’re a Saint, Ptolemy, you can take care of yourself.”

“But you’re my friend! Aren’t friends suppose to support each other?”

“Not when said friend is leeching off of them. Again.   This isn’t the first time you’ve done this Ptolemy!”  Asterion turned and look at him. “I’m tired to covering for you.  Go get your own food!”

“I’m starving here Asterion!  Just give me something until I can go into town!”  Ptolemy pleaded.  His stomach growled and he gave Asterion a glance, hoping the Hound Saint would be sympathetic to him.  Asterion just shook his head.

“You’re a Saint, you won’t starve just because you  skip a meal.  If you had planned ahead then you wouldn’t be going through this, would you?  Moses and I both told you what would happened if you kept putting off shopping,”   Asterion said firmly.  “I’m not bailing you out again.”

“Come on Asterion, just one more time?”

“No,”  Asterion said once more, then turned to glare at him.  “Would you stop acing like you’re suffering?  You’re a Saint.  A walk into town, even on an empty stomach, should be easy for you.   If it’s not than I think we’ll be looking for someone else to wear the Stagitta Cloth.”

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should have to.  Can’t you give me a snack or something?”

“No Ptolemy,”  Asterion snapped in  a very final tone of voice.  Ptolemy waited for a few more minuets but when Asterion showed all the signs of being absorbed in his students again, Ptolemy left.   He would try to find Moses, then if that didn’t work he would go to town.  It was unfair though.

“Apparently your Saint didn’t think much of you,” Sappho intoned with a small, false smile.   Sara smiled…and again reminded herself that she could not snap at, insult, or start fights with customers of her Aunts shop while she was helping out.   Not that she had any problems with those rules normally, they had been created with her brother and her cousins in mind, but she was very well aware Sappho knew of those rules and that was why she was here now.  “I mean, know one has even seen him since he left on that date with you.”

“He’s a Saint, I’m sure he has better things to do then visit our little village,”  Sara responded neutrally.  She would have loved to do to distract herself from the Sappho’s chatter, but the other girl hadn’t made a move to buy anything.  She had only fluttered around examining things and throwing out occasional barbs.  Sara was sure this was some sort of revenge.   The day after her walk with Ptolemy she had a least half a dozen people stopping her to ask what had happened.   It had been bigger news than Sappho’s bragging that she had flirted with Milo.   Even the news that the Scorpio Saint had told her she was beautiful a few days ago hadn’t made much of impact, or at least not as much of impact as the taller girl had wanted.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.   Lord Milo and some of the other Saints are here much more often,” Sappho said in an airy manner.   “I suppose there must be a reason he doesn’t want to come down here.  I wonder if you did something?”

“Lord Ptolemy seemed happy with my company.  I don’t see how that could be the problem,”  she replied as pleasantly as she could, hoping Sappho would hurry up.

“Maybe that was the problem.   You must not have been that interesting if he forgot about you.   That must be the reason he hasn’t come around recently. What do you suppose that could be?”

Sara forced a smile on her face and wondered if the old adage ‘your face will stick that away’ applied to situations like this as well .  “Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s better this way.  It’s not like any Saint would really be interested in a simple village girl.”

“There are plenty of Saints who have been interested in village girls!”  Sappho snapped defensively.  “My own family has the blood of Saints in, so I know it’s entirely possible!”

“Possible, but I don’t think it’s likely.  After all, Sanctuary has already taken all the girls in the village that could possible interest a Saint,”  Sara said, still smiling.  Sappho bristled.

“There are plenty of girls who are interesting to a Saint!”  The taller girl snapped then suddenly lifted her head.  “Just because you failed to hold the interest of whatever Saint it was that took pity on you doesn’t mean the rest of us are also incapable of being charming.”

“Really?  Because I could have sworn you were spending an awful lot of time being charming to Lord Milo but he still doesn’t seem to notice…”  Sappho started to swell with indignation.

“Sara!” Her Aunt’s sharp bark made her jump and look guilty at the older woman who was coming out of the back of the shop.  Sappho looked smug.   Her Aunt shoved a broom into her hand.  “I need you to sweep the porch outside,”   the older woman ordered than added in an undertone, “Stop letting her get a raise out of you!  You’re old enough to know better!”   Her aunt gave her a shove and Sara headed outside.  She heard a snicker from Sappho, but her aunt asking the other girl if she could help her drowned out anything else she might have said.

Outside, Sara brushed angrily at the wooden boards of the porch right outside the shop.   She knew all she was doing was flinging dust everywhere but she didn’t care.   Sappho was so annoying!  Did stupid things like who was more important really matter to her?  It wasn’t like she had been trying  to out do her or anything!    She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she didn’t even notice someone coming up to the store.

“Hey, it’s you!”  Someone said in surprise.  She looked up startled to find Lord Ptolemy standing in front of at the edge of the porch.  “Umm…Sara, right?”   All she could do was nod dumbly before she glanced at the doorway and noticed that Sappho was still inside.

“It’s nice to see you again Lord Ptolemy!”  She said much louder than she needed too.

“Umm…nice to see you too..”  Lord Ptolemy said looking a bit startled.  “So this is where you live?”

“No, this is just my Aunts store. I help out here sometimes,”  she explained to him, feeling a rush of satisfaction when she noticed Sappho peering out of the store looking a little annoyed.  “So what brings you here, Lord Ptolemy?”

“Just some shopping again,” he said and held up the empty bag he was carrying.   “I need some…”  a loud growl interrupted him.   Sara stared and he blushed at the sound.

“Lord Ptolemy…was that your stomach?”  She could help but giggle a bit, which caused him to blush harder.

“I’ve just been too busy too make a trip here lately!”  He said a bit defensively.   She knew it was rather rude to be giggling at a Saint but he looked so embarrassed it wasn’t hard forget that he was a Lord Saint right now.

“Have you had anything at all to eat today?”  She had to ask him.  It was hard to think of a Saint being as being so disorganized.

“I had breakfast,”  Ptolemy muttered, “….I just haven’t had lunch yet…”

“And Sara was just about to go on her own lunch break,”  Sara hadn’t even known her Aunt was behind her until she spoke.   The unexpected voice caused her to jump and she looked back at her Aunt startled.

“I was…?” She said, a little confused.  Normally her Aunt didn’t let her take a break until later in the day.

“Of course you were, did you loose track of time?”  Her Aunt said in her kindest tone of voice.   “Go get your lunch from the kitchen and you can share it.  It would be fair to leave a Lord Saint to starve!”

“You don’t have to…” Lord Ptolemy said, but he didn’t really sound like he was trying to stop them and had perked up when she mentioned sharing.

“Oh its our pleasure…you wait here, she’ll be right out.”  Sara found herself being pushed into the store and toward the kitchen, passing by a shocked looking Sappho.

“But I don’t have anything here…” Sara hissed.  Normally she just went back home to eat lunch once her Aunt decided she could take a break.

“There are sandwiches in the kitchen…bring them out to him,”  Her aunt hissed at her.   “He’s a Saint!  He remembered you, now make him think you’re at least somewhat interesting!

“How am I suppose to do  that?”

“Think of something!”  Her Aunt gave her a last shove through the door that lead into the house that was attached to the shop.   Sara turned to glare at the older woman, but she had already walked away.  Grumbling  a bit she headed into the kitchen.  It was true that she couldn’t just leave Lord Ptolemy standing around out there although she had no clue what would make her interesting to him.   Her Aunt had just left the sandwiches on a plate on the counter.  She grabbed it and headed back out to the front of the shop.

Sappho was outside when she reached there, standing on the porch and smiling at Lord Ptolemy.    “So I’m sure my mother would be happy to make something….” the taller girl was saying as she walked out.  Sara nearly growled.   How dare she!  She just couldn’t let anyone else have the spotlight, could she?   Luckily for her, her Aunt had been watching the whole thing from the doorway.  She couldn’t actually stop Sappho from speaking with him, but when she saw her coming back, the older woman had a reason to intervene.

“That’s a very kind offer but Sara is already back and it wouldn’t do to make the Lord Saint wait anymore, now would it Sappho?”  Her Aunt said.   As she walked forward Lord Ptolemy seemed to perk up and actually smiled at her.

“Those look good!”  He said, looking very happy.  Sara flushed, a bit embarrassed.

“I didn’t…,”  she started to say  but her Aunt elbowed her slightly.

“Why don’t you find the Lord Saint somewhere comfortable to eat?”

“What about the kitchen?”  Her Aunt elbowed her a little again.

“I’ll need to remake lunch.  And it will be easier to keep little miss nosey occupied if she doesn’t know where you are!”  The older woman hissed at her, smiled at Lord Ptolemy and as she gave her a shove toward him.  She stumbled slightly but managed to keep the tray straight.  She gave her Aunt a last glare before going to join Lord Ptolemy, who was looking slightly confused.

“Umm…if you’ll come with me Lord Ptolemy..”  She said, thinking as fast as she could.    There were benches around the fountain in the square…it would mean being in the center of attention for a while but she could deal with that.   Better than remaining under Sappho’s jealous eye.

One they reached the fountain she stopped by one of the benches.  “…Have a seat Lord Ptolemy,” she said.    He did, giving her a rather intent look as she sat down and placed the  plate between them.  She was blushing until she realized it wasn’t really her he was watching,  it was the plate.  “Help yourself…” he had grabbed one before she had even finished speaking.   She stared, then giggled and took a sandwich for herself.      They ate in silence for a while, although she was only nibbling.   He didn’t seem to noticed that the people who passed by were at least pausing to give them a second look.    It wasn’t everyday you saw a Saint eating with someone from the village and they were always looking for something interesting to talk about.

There was the familiar silence for a while, but at least it wasn’t as awkward this time.   Still, she felt she had to say something to him.

“I looked for your constellation,” she muttered as he ate.  Lord Ptolemy looked over at her and gave her a slightly confused look.  “Last time I saw you, I said I would look it up,”  she said quickly, wondering if he had forgotten and feeling foolish.  He looked thoughtful for a second.

“You really did that?”  He looked at and actually smiled,  “Did you find it?”

“…No,” she admitted, embarrassed.  “I think I was looking in the wrong direction.   I was having trouble finding most of the constellations though!”  She added hastily when she saw his smile drop a little.  “It’s kind of confusing trying to see pictures in all the stars.”   She wondered if that was a good thing to stay to a Saint, who depended on the stars to protect them.

“It is kind of confusing at first, but you get the hang of it after a while,”  Lord Ptolemy said.   “I had a little bit of trouble seeing them at first.  After a while they’ll become easier to see,”  then he gave her smile again.  “You’ll get it soon.”

“I’m sure I will..” She trailed off as she took a bite of her sandwich.  They ate in silence for a while longer then she spoke up.  “Um..Lord Ptolemy?”

“Hmm..?”  He paused in reaching for another sandwich.

“Your name…I found it in the book of constellations.   The man who named the constellations was called Ptolemy.   Are you named after him?”    She looked over at him in curiously and he looked pleased.

“Yes, I am!”  He picked up another sandwich.   “I always thought the name Ptolemy sounded nice, and even today people remembered him.   Since I want my name to be remembered too, I decided to call myself Ptolemy when I became a Saint.”

“You choose your own name?” Sara said in surprise.   Ptolemy nodded, taking a bite and swallowing before answering.

“Yeah.  Most Saints choose to take a new name when they earn their Cloths,”  he explained.   “My Master once told me it was a tradition started to show that you’re a different person than you were before you started training as a Saint.”

“That’s interesting..” Sara took a bite of her sandwich, watching Lord Ptolemy.  “So all Saints have different names than the ones they had before?”

“Most of us do,” Lord Ptolemy said.  “But it’s not required so a few times a Saint decides that the name they were given was fine so they keep it.”

“So you didn’t like your birth name?” she couldn’t help asking.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it…but it didn’t seem right anymore.  I wasn’t the child who had started training to be a Saint, so I picked a name that I thought fit me better,”

“Ptolemy does suit you,”  Sara agreed, thinking that it really did fit him in an odd way.   Saints weren’t normal, so it made sense that they would choose names that were different from most people.

“Thanks!” Ptolemy looked pleased when she said that, “Um….Sara’s a really nice name too.”

“Thank you…” she had never really thought about her name before.  It wasn’t really memorable in anyway, and if anything it was boring.   Hearing someone say it was nice felt good, even though she was sure Lord Ptolemy was only saying it to be polite.   “That’s really nice of you to say.”

“Uh, you’re welcome. Umm…these are really good,”  he waved at the plate, which was now almost empty.

“Thank you,” she said, although she felt uncomfortable taking credit for her Aunt’s work.  But if she came clean she had a sneaking suspicion that her Aunt would be mad at her if she did admit that.  The merest chance that a  Saint found her interesting was to good to pass up for her family.   It was something they could brag about to everyone else.  Really, she didn’t mind that much.  Ptolemy was nice in his own way and he was certainly a lot better looking than the rest of the village boys…. “It must be nice to be able to choose your own name though.”

“I guess it is,” Lord Ptoemly said as he took a bite.  “I never really thought about it before.”

“You haven’t?”   That was something of a surprise to her.  “But you get to choose your own name, isn’t that kind of exciting?”

“I guess?” Lord Ptolemy looked over at her. “I was more excited about actually earning my cloth then the name thing.”

“Oh. I guess that would make sense..”  she nibbled at her sandwich.  “What was it like, becoming a Saint?”   Lord Ptolemy lit up at that.

“It was the proudest day of my life!  After everything, the training the fights, all of it, I finally got to prove that I was worthy of wearing the Sagitta Cloth!  I was finally a Saint and I will never forget the feeling of finally being able to kneel in front of the Pope and declare myself a Saint,”  he was speaking so excitedly and was almost beaming.    She tried to imagine ever being able to be that close to the Pope and what it must be like.

It didn’t’ work.  She didn’t even know what the Pope looked like.  Actually seeing such a powerful figure was beyond her.

“That’s amazing..” she said, not really sure if she was talking about Saints or being able to see the Lord Pope everyday.   There were only a few people in the village who had been granted that privilege and the majority of those were his over servants.

“It is.  I earned the rank of one of the strongest warriors in the world, worthy to stand by Athena herself!”  Lord Ptolemy looked very pleased with himself and she had to smile a little.

“So I should be honored to be able to eat lunch with a Saint?”  She said slightly teasingly.  He looked at her in surprise then smiled back.

“Well it as an honor to…um…have lunch with..a pretty girl?”  He grinned nervously at her.   When he did that he didn’t look like a Saint at all.   He was just another boy like that, although one that served the goddess.   The change, and his words made her gigigle and his grin gained a little more confidence.
“Thanks for  the meal, I was starving.”

It was only when he gestured at the plate that she realized it was empty and she hadn’t even noticed.  That had been enough to feed her Aunts entire family there.  She couldn’t imagine how he had eaten all of that so quickly.  “It was nothing, I hoped you liked it.”

“I already said it was really good, didn’t I?”  He actually smiled, handing the plate back to her, “you didn’t have to keep me company, if you didn’t want to.”

“But I did want to,” she  said, smiling.  It was true, kind of.   He had been  interesting when she had last meet him and even though she hadn’t been sure she wanted to sit through another awkward conversation with him, but she had enjoyed herself in the end.

“Really?”  he looked happy about it as they stood up.  She took the plate from him when he picked it up and held it out to her, then nodded shyly.   They stood that way for a few awkward moments before Lord Ptolemy sighed.  “I guess I should buy something.   I can’t keep stealing food from you.”

“It’s not stealing, it was a gift,” she said smiling.

“Still…, I  came down here to shop anyway,”  he didn’t look very  enthusiastic about it.

“Do you want…company?”  She wasn’t sure that she wanted to go shopping with him, food shopping was boring and she didn’t like him that much, but her Aunt would probably be mad if she didn’t at least offer.   Lord Ptolemy paused.

“You would do that?”   he said, then smiled.   “I don’t want you to get in trouble again though.  You’re Aunt is probably expecting you back.”

“I did promise I would be helping her the rest of today,”  she admitted.  That was the truth. She had skipped out once earlier in the week to go to the market with her friends and had felt so guilty that she had said she would work all day today to make up for it.   Although she had kind of been regretting promising  that earlier, now she was glad it gave her an excuse to bow out gracefully.

“Then you should go back,” he said, smiling slightly.  “Otherwise your family might start thinking that I’m a bad influence on you.”

“They wouldn’t ever think that,”  she assured him, deciding not to add that they would all be thrilled she was spending time with a Saint, as long as she didn’t neglect her duty that much.

“Still it would be rude to make you stay with me,” he grinned a little. “I hope you parents weren’t too hard on you last time.”

“They weren’t don’t worry.  Thank you for being so understanding about me having to run off like that,”  she smiled.   Lord Ptolemy smiled back.

“It was nothing.  You just wanted to help your family…I can understand.  It must be nice…”  he trailed off a bit.

“What must be nice?”  she asked curiously.  Something flash across his face.  Loneliness?  Sadness?  Regret?  She couldn’t tell before it was gone again and he gave her a rather strained smile.

“Nice to have a family,”  was all he said.  She froze, not sure what to say to that and not sure she wanted to know what he meant.  She just nodded instead.

“It is,” was all she managed to say.  It was the only thing she could think, what else where you suppose to say to something like that?  “I suppose I should be getting back then,”  she took a step backwards.

“Let me walk you back,”  he said and she nodded again, not being able to deny that.  Thankfully it didn’t take them that long to reach the entrance to her aunts shop.  She stopped in the doorway, then turned to think him.  “Thanks again for keeping me company like that,”  he said first.

“I already said it was nothing,” she answered, catching sight of her Aunt peeking out of the doorway out of the corner of her eye.  “I hope I didn’t bore you or anything.”

“You didn’t,” Lord Ptolemy grinned then he shuffled kind of nervously. “I guess I had better get going,”

“…Have a good day?” she said, unsure just what she was suppose to say now.

“…I will,” he answered as he looked at her.  “If I come around her again…will you be here?”  he asked suddenly.

“Or at least somewhere near here,” she answered without thinking.  “I mean…my Aunt will know where to find me at least.”

“I’ll remember that,” Lord Ptolemy said.   She nodded, wondering what he meant by that as she  watched him walk way.

**********
The day,  Ptolemy decided, hadn’t been to bad really.   Aside from Asterion being unfair, things had actually been good.  Sara had given him a free lunch, and hadn’t been boring or squeal the way some of the other girls where when he talked to her.

Afterwards, when he had been shopping, he had managed to get more than he needed.   The villagers insisted on either giving him things or giving him special discounts because he was a Saint.  The seemed to do that to all Saints so he was used it.  What he wasn’t used to was them suddenly asking him questions about how he was doing, his day, and always coming back to his lunch with Sara.  He wondered how so many people had found out about it so quickly.   It wasn’t like they had been hiding it or anything, but it seemed weird that everyone would be so interested.    He knew that always made a big deal out of any Saint, but he hadn’t realized it was that bad.

He hoped he hadn’t damaged her reputation or got her in trouble with her boyfriend.   They hadn’t done anything but if Rodario was anything like Sanctuary, the gossips were probably already twisting and confusing things to make things more interesting.

Come to think of it, the village really wasn’t that different from Sanctuary.  The moment something different or interesting happened, everyone seemed to want to know about it and made a big deal out of everything.    He shrugged it off as he reached his hut and put everything away, heading out to the training grounds when he was done.

There wasn’t much else to do in the Sanctuary, so most of it’s inhabitants would be found down watching or participating in the fights.   A usual crowd was gathered by the time he made it down.  Several of the trainees and guards called respectful greetings as he reached the main arena.  Other Saints just nodded and turned back to the various fights scattered across the are arena floor.

Most of these were little more than practice bouts between trainees or guards.  Ptolemy stopped to watch a fight between two of the more skilled trainees.   They looked familiar and he tried to place them as he judged their skill.   One of them might become a Saint someday, and it would be worth it to know something about his comrades in arms.  He thought the more skilled one might be one of Cancer Deathmask’s students, but he couldn’t be sure.     Trainees weren’t people he normally dealt with unless it was clear they had an actually chance of earning a Cloth.   There were too many trainees that failed each day for most to bother learning much about them.

The two in this match appeared to be at least worthy of consideration.  He could feel a spark of cosmo from them both, and that was something that not ever trainee had.    Ptolemy crossed his arms, trying to remember the names of the trainees and he thought he almost had once when he caught sight of a familiar face that was also watching the fight..   Immediately the fight faded from his mind and he tensed in anger.

Algol.   He hadn’t known the Perseus Saint was back yet from his mission yet.   There was that annoyingly superior smirk on his face that indicated his mission had been another success.  Fingernails dug into his arms but he ignored the pain.  He didn’t see why everyone seemed to think Algol was a better Saint.  Given the smallest chance he could prove he was just as good as the other Saint was.   But over and over again the Pope choose to pass over him for Algol of all people.  His attack might take a while longer than most other Saints to work but given enough time his arrows were suppose to even be able to take down a god.      Why couldn’t the Pope just give him a chance?     That was all he needed….

Ptolemy was so absorbed in this thoughts that he didn’t even  notice when the fight ended and one of the trainees was lead off in congratulation by his fellows.   As the crowd thinned, Algol looked away from the fight.  Their eyes meet and he smirked.   For a moment they just stayed that way, then Algol walked over to him.

“What are you looking at?”  the Perseus Saint said, that arrogant voice of his making Ptolemy tense even more.

“So you’re back,”  Ptolemy said snapped.

“I am,” Algol said agreeably,  “I finished my mission earlier than expected.  The Pope was impressed.”

“Good for you,” Ptolemy said sharply, turning to walk away.  Then Algol spoke up again.

“Of course, it was simple mission.   Even someone like you might have been able to pull it off…eventually,”  he said.   Ptolemy froze and then whirled around to face him.

“What makes you think you’re so much better than me?  Given the chance I could outdo you every time!” He snapped at the other Saint.

Algol smirked, crossing his arms.  “But you’re never going to get that chance, are you?  No one is going to want to risk something saving your target while those twelve hours go by , not when  there’s a choice to have them dead the moment they lay eyes on me.”

“Nothing but Lady Athena’s power can destroy the golden arrow of Stagitta!” he half-shouted back.  “A Saint isn’t just his cloth anyway, and without yours I’m more than a match for you!”

Algol laughed. “Do you really believe that?  Listen to yourself!”

“Without your cloth I can take you easily!” Ptolemy growled.   Algol tossed his hair.

“Care to prove it?”

“I will!”  Ptolemy shifted back in to an attack stance as Algol did the same.   There was no need to find a clear area.  Once everyone around them realized it was two Saints about to fight, they cleared the area on their own.  People were already shouting encouragement and yelling bets back and forth to each other as the two combatants started to circle each other.

Ptolemy charged, throwing a punch at the Perseus Saint, but Algol dodged, grabbed his arm and flipped him.  Ptolemy hit the ground hard, put rolled away quickly, barely ganing his feet in time to block a punch from Algol.  He retaliated with a kick, forcing the other Silver Saint back long enough for him to catch his breath.    They exchanged a few more blows, forcing each other across the arena.     Ptolemy realized he was in trouble when he slipped, his guard dropping for a split second.

Algol wasn’t one to let an opportunity like that go to waste.   The kick sent Ptolemy flying and he slammed into the wall of the practice ground, feeling the wall crack and give way.  He stumbled out of the wreckage to find Algol already running towards him.  There wasn’t time for him to dodge,  but there was still one trick he had left.    He gathered his cosmo and waited until Algol was close enough, then thrust his fist out.    The charging Perseus Saint skidded to a stop as he realized a multitude of small golden arrows were heading in his direction.

Algol managed to dodge most of them, but there were just too many for even a Saint to get away from.  He flinched, bracing for the impact of one hitting him but none came and he watched in desbeilf as the arrow passed through him.

“Illusion!?” He shouted in surprise right before Ptolemy’s knee slammed into his gut.  That opening was all the Stagitta Saint had needed.

Ptolemy gave the dazed Algol a vicious uppercut, sending him flying.  When he hit the ground again, the Stagitta Saint was waiting.   As the other Saint tried to gain his feet, Ptolemy planted a foot on his chest, forcing him back to the ground.   “Well?” he asked.

Algol glared at him. “You said we wouldn’t be using cosmo!” he growled.

“I never said anything about using Cosmo, only that I was a match for you without our cloths,” Ptolemy smirked a little himself, “and I guess I was right.”    He took his foot off the Perseus Saint.

“One win doesn’t mean you’re the better Saint,” Algol said as sat up.  “It only means you got lucky once.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Ptolemy called over his shoulder as he walked away, trying not to show that he wasn’t sure he could take Alogl if the Perseus Saint tried anything.

********
Up in the stands, from where they had been watching most of the fight, Asterion sighed and nudged Moses.

“Come on, lets go make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” the hound Saint said, nodding toward were  Ptolemy was exiting the arena.    Moses nodded.

“He took a few good hits there, and he’s probably worse off than he realizes.”  Moses was half way down the stairs before he realized that Asterion wasn’t behind him.  He glanced back to find the other Saint, frowning slightly as he watched some of Algol friends tend to him.

“Asterion! You coming? ” Moses yelled impatiently.   Asterion started, threw one last look at the Peresu Saint, then headed down the steps.  “What were doing?” Moses asked when he caught up.   Asterion looked thoughtful.

“Don’t you think that it seems like a lot of Saint are being sent out on missions lately?”  The Hound Saint asked.   Moses frowned, slightly confused.

“Aren’t Saints always being sent out on missions?” He said.

“Yeah, but it seems like it’s been more obvious lately…” Asterion trailed off, Moses sighed and slapped him on the back.

“Don’t go looking for trouble when there isn’t any.  You’re just over thinking things again!”

“Maybe I am…” Asterion said aloud, although he looked unconvinced as they headed down to find Ptolemy.

Description
There was a clatter in one of the small shacks that severed as housing for the Saints.  Ptolemy grumbled and picked up the bowl he had dropped, echoing the growing of his stomach.  He eyed the meager assortment of food he had left and sighed.    He was hungry now but unless he wanted to try the old bread that was starting to look moldy, he was out of luck.

Maybe he should have gone shopping earlier.  He had some free time then, maybe he should have used it.  Now it was either miss lunch and starve or go beg food off of someone else.

“Starving isn’t a fitting end for a Saint,” he muttered to himself and went to look for someone who be willing to share.  Asterion wasn’t at home but that was hardly a surprise.  He was probably down supervising trainees.   Testing the new trainees before they were handed off to someone who would train them for a Cloth was one of Asterion’s duties and he was good at.   But that left him with little time to just hang around doing nothing.

Moses also wasn’t home.  He could be anywhere since he didn’t have any official duties in Sanctuary.  Aside from the patrols around the perimeter that the Pope had the all Saints run, there were only a few Saints who were given specific duties.   Right now Moses was probably off training somewhere.   His stomach growled again and Ptolemy seriously considered sneaking into Asterion’s kitchen.  The Hound Saint always had extra and should be willing to share.    But he had done that once before and Asterion had gotten mad at him.  He had felt guilty about doing  things like that anyway, so he decided against the idea.     Instead he decided to go bug Asterion himself.   Maybe the Hound Saint would be willing to share whatever he had for lunch with him.

The training ground for the new trainees were at the edge of Sanctuary.   This was the children brought in would be trained for a year or two as the learned Greek  and the basic physical strength to become Saints.    Then the ones that showed promise would be handed over to more permanent Masters.   Asterion was a good at getting results and that was why he had been posted there.

The shouts and occasional cries of childish voices greeted him as he made his way over to the training ground.   Not all of the noise as in Greek either, since half of the children here couldn’t even speak if fluently yet.   As he neared he noticed Asterion moving among the trainees, correcting a punch or kick there, shifting the stance of another.    He wasn’t being as rough as he could be with them, but Asterion knew he was being far from gently.  Coddling the trainees would only mean death.    At least his friend took a break, stepping away from the trainees.

“They look good,” Ptolemy said conversationally as he went to join his friend.

“Not really,”  Asterion answered, surveying the group.  “They just sent in a batch of new recruits.  I’ve got the older ones working with them for now, but later on I’ll have to pair them against one another to later on.  Then you’ll see that they really aren’t that great yet.  Now…” the Hound Saint turned his gaze on his friend.  “What do you want?”

“Nothing really,” Ptolemy answered as he tried to work out a way to get to the topic of food.  “I was just curious what you were doing.  Moses isn’t home either, so I thought he might be down here with you…”

Asterion leveled a searching glare at the other Saint, then sighed and turned back to the trainees.  “No,” he said firmly.

“What…?” Ptolemy asked slightly confused.

“No, I’m not giving you anything.  It’s your own fault if you were too lazy to take care of things.”  Asterion said as he watched the children.  “You’re a Saint, Ptolemy, you can take care of yourself.”

“But you’re my friend! Aren’t friends suppose to support each other?”

“Not when said friend is leeching off of them. Again.   This isn’t the first time you’ve done this Ptolemy!”  Asterion turned and look at him. “I’m tired to covering for you.  Go get your own food!”

“I’m starving here Asterion!  Just give me something until I can go into town!”  Ptolemy pleaded.  His stomach growled and he gave Asterion a glance, hoping the Hound Saint would be sympathetic to him.  Asterion just shook his head.

“You’re a Saint, you won’t starve just because you  skip a meal.  If you had planned ahead then you wouldn’t be going through this, would you?  Moses and I both told you what would happened if you kept putting off shopping,”   Asterion said firmly.  “I’m not bailing you out again.”

“Come on Asterion, just one more time?”

“No,”  Asterion said once more, then turned to glare at him.  “Would you stop acing like you’re suffering?  You’re a Saint.  A walk into town, even on an empty stomach, should be easy for you.   If it’s not than I think we’ll be looking for someone else to wear the Stagitta Cloth.”

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should have to.  Can’t you give me a snack or something?”

“No Ptolemy,”  Asterion snapped in  a very final tone of voice.  Ptolemy waited for a few more minuets but when Asterion showed all the signs of being absorbed in his students again, Ptolemy left.   He would try to find Moses, then if that didn’t work he would go to town.  It was unfair though.

“Apparently your Saint didn’t think much of you,” Sappho intoned with a small, false smile.   Sara smiled…and again reminded herself that she could not snap at, insult, or start fights with customers of her Aunts shop while she was helping out.   Not that she had any problems with those rules normally, they had been created with her brother and her cousins in mind, but she was very well aware Sappho knew of those rules and that was why she was here now.  “I mean, know one has even seen him since he left on that date with you.”

“He’s a Saint, I’m sure he has better things to do then visit our little village,”  Sara responded neutrally.  She would have loved to do to distract herself from the Sappho’s chatter, but the other girl hadn’t made a move to buy anything.  She had only fluttered around examining things and throwing out occasional barbs.  Sara was sure this was some sort of revenge.   The day after her walk with Ptolemy she had a least half a dozen people stopping her to ask what had happened.   It had been bigger news than Sappho’s bragging that she had flirted with Milo.   Even the news that the Scorpio Saint had told her she was beautiful a few days ago hadn’t made much of impact, or at least not as much of impact as the taller girl had wanted.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.   Lord Milo and some of the other Saints are here much more often,” Sappho said in an airy manner.   “I suppose there must be a reason he doesn’t want to come down here.  I wonder if you did something?”

“Lord Ptolemy seemed happy with my company.  I don’t see how that could be the problem,”  she replied as pleasantly as she could, hoping Sappho would hurry up.

“Maybe that was the problem.   You must not have been that interesting if he forgot about you.   That must be the reason he hasn’t come around recently. What do you suppose that could be?”

Sara forced a smile on her face and wondered if the old adage ‘your face will stick that away’ applied to situations like this as well .  “Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s better this way.  It’s not like any Saint would really be interested in a simple village girl.”

“There are plenty of Saints who have been interested in village girls!”  Sappho snapped defensively.  “My own family has the blood of Saints in, so I know it’s entirely possible!”

“Possible, but I don’t think it’s likely.  After all, Sanctuary has already taken all the girls in the village that could possible interest a Saint,”  Sara said, still smiling.  Sappho bristled.

“There are plenty of girls who are interesting to a Saint!”  The taller girl snapped then suddenly lifted her head.  “Just because you failed to hold the interest of whatever Saint it was that took pity on you doesn’t mean the rest of us are also incapable of being charming.”

“Really?  Because I could have sworn you were spending an awful lot of time being charming to Lord Milo but he still doesn’t seem to notice…”  Sappho started to swell with indignation.

“Sara!” Her Aunt’s sharp bark made her jump and look guilty at the older woman who was coming out of the back of the shop.  Sappho looked smug.   Her Aunt shoved a broom into her hand.  “I need you to sweep the porch outside,”   the older woman ordered than added in an undertone, “Stop letting her get a raise out of you!  You’re old enough to know better!”   Her aunt gave her a shove and Sara headed outside.  She heard a snicker from Sappho, but her aunt asking the other girl if she could help her drowned out anything else she might have said.

Outside, Sara brushed angrily at the wooden boards of the porch right outside the shop.   She knew all she was doing was flinging dust everywhere but she didn’t care.   Sappho was so annoying!  Did stupid things like who was more important really matter to her?  It wasn’t like she had been trying  to out do her or anything!    She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she didn’t even notice someone coming up to the store.

“Hey, it’s you!”  Someone said in surprise.  She looked up startled to find Lord Ptolemy standing in front of at the edge of the porch.  “Umm…Sara, right?”   All she could do was nod dumbly before she glanced at the doorway and noticed that Sappho was still inside.

“It’s nice to see you again Lord Ptolemy!”  She said much louder than she needed too.

“Umm…nice to see you too..”  Lord Ptolemy said looking a bit startled.  “So this is where you live?”

“No, this is just my Aunts store. I help out here sometimes,”  she explained to him, feeling a rush of satisfaction when she noticed Sappho peering out of the store looking a little annoyed.  “So what brings you here, Lord Ptolemy?”

“Just some shopping again,” he said and held up the empty bag he was carrying.   “I need some…”  a loud growl interrupted him.   Sara stared and he blushed at the sound.

“Lord Ptolemy…was that your stomach?”  She could help but giggle a bit, which caused him to blush harder.

“I’ve just been too busy too make a trip here lately!”  He said a bit defensively.   She knew it was rather rude to be giggling at a Saint but he looked so embarrassed it wasn’t hard forget that he was a Lord Saint right now.

“Have you had anything at all to eat today?”  She had to ask him.  It was hard to think of a Saint being as being so disorganized.

“I had breakfast,”  Ptolemy muttered, “….I just haven’t had lunch yet…”

“And Sara was just about to go on her own lunch break,”  Sara hadn’t even known her Aunt was behind her until she spoke.   The unexpected voice caused her to jump and she looked back at her Aunt startled.

“I was…?” She said, a little confused.  Normally her Aunt didn’t let her take a break until later in the day.

“Of course you were, did you loose track of time?”  Her Aunt said in her kindest tone of voice.   “Go get your lunch from the kitchen and you can share it.  It would be fair to leave a Lord Saint to starve!”

“You don’t have to…” Lord Ptolemy said, but he didn’t really sound like he was trying to stop them and had perked up when she mentioned sharing.

“Oh its our pleasure…you wait here, she’ll be right out.”  Sara found herself being pushed into the store and toward the kitchen, passing by a shocked looking Sappho.

“But I don’t have anything here…” Sara hissed.  Normally she just went back home to eat lunch once her Aunt decided she could take a break.

“There are sandwiches in the kitchen…bring them out to him,”  Her aunt hissed at her.   “He’s a Saint!  He remembered you, now make him think you’re at least somewhat interesting!

“How am I suppose to do  that?”

“Think of something!”  Her Aunt gave her a last shove through the door that lead into the house that was attached to the shop.   Sara turned to glare at the older woman, but she had already walked away.  Grumbling  a bit she headed into the kitchen.  It was true that she couldn’t just leave Lord Ptolemy standing around out there although she had no clue what would make her interesting to him.   Her Aunt had just left the sandwiches on a plate on the counter.  She grabbed it and headed back out to the front of the shop.

Sappho was outside when she reached there, standing on the porch and smiling at Lord Ptolemy.    “So I’m sure my mother would be happy to make something….” the taller girl was saying as she walked out.  Sara nearly growled.   How dare she!  She just couldn’t let anyone else have the spotlight, could she?   Luckily for her, her Aunt had been watching the whole thing from the doorway.  She couldn’t actually stop Sappho from speaking with him, but when she saw her coming back, the older woman had a reason to intervene.

“That’s a very kind offer but Sara is already back and it wouldn’t do to make the Lord Saint wait anymore, now would it Sappho?”  Her Aunt said.   As she walked forward Lord Ptolemy seemed to perk up and actually smiled at her.

“Those look good!”  He said, looking very happy.  Sara flushed, a bit embarrassed.

“I didn’t…,”  she started to say  but her Aunt elbowed her slightly.

“Why don’t you find the Lord Saint somewhere comfortable to eat?”

“What about the kitchen?”  Her Aunt elbowed her a little again.

“I’ll need to remake lunch.  And it will be easier to keep little miss nosey occupied if she doesn’t know where you are!”  The older woman hissed at her, smiled at Lord Ptolemy and as she gave her a shove toward him.  She stumbled slightly but managed to keep the tray straight.  She gave her Aunt a last glare before going to join Lord Ptolemy, who was looking slightly confused.

“Umm…if you’ll come with me Lord Ptolemy..”  She said, thinking as fast as she could.    There were benches around the fountain in the square…it would mean being in the center of attention for a while but she could deal with that.   Better than remaining under Sappho’s jealous eye.

One they reached the fountain she stopped by one of the benches.  “…Have a seat Lord Ptolemy,” she said.    He did, giving her a rather intent look as she sat down and placed the  plate between them.  She was blushing until she realized it wasn’t really her he was watching,  it was the plate.  “Help yourself…” he had grabbed one before she had even finished speaking.   She stared, then giggled and took a sandwich for herself.      They ate in silence for a while, although she was only nibbling.   He didn’t seem to noticed that the people who passed by were at least pausing to give them a second look.    It wasn’t everyday you saw a Saint eating with someone from the village and they were always looking for something interesting to talk about.

There was the familiar silence for a while, but at least it wasn’t as awkward this time.   Still, she felt she had to say something to him.

“I looked for your constellation,” she muttered as he ate.  Lord Ptolemy looked over at her and gave her a slightly confused look.  “Last time I saw you, I said I would look it up,”  she said quickly, wondering if he had forgotten and feeling foolish.  He looked thoughtful for a second.

“You really did that?”  He looked at and actually smiled,  “Did you find it?”

“…No,” she admitted, embarrassed.  “I think I was looking in the wrong direction.   I was having trouble finding most of the constellations though!”  She added hastily when she saw his smile drop a little.  “It’s kind of confusing trying to see pictures in all the stars.”   She wondered if that was a good thing to stay to a Saint, who depended on the stars to protect them.

“It is kind of confusing at first, but you get the hang of it after a while,”  Lord Ptolemy said.   “I had a little bit of trouble seeing them at first.  After a while they’ll become easier to see,”  then he gave her smile again.  “You’ll get it soon.”

“I’m sure I will..” She trailed off as she took a bite of her sandwich.  They ate in silence for a while longer then she spoke up.  “Um..Lord Ptolemy?”

“Hmm..?”  He paused in reaching for another sandwich.

“Your name…I found it in the book of constellations.   The man who named the constellations was called Ptolemy.   Are you named after him?”    She looked over at him in curiously and he looked pleased.

“Yes, I am!”  He picked up another sandwich.   “I always thought the name Ptolemy sounded nice, and even today people remembered him.   Since I want my name to be remembered too, I decided to call myself Ptolemy when I became a Saint.”

“You choose your own name?” Sara said in surprise.   Ptolemy nodded, taking a bite and swallowing before answering.

“Yeah.  Most Saints choose to take a new name when they earn their Cloths,”  he explained.   “My Master once told me it was a tradition started to show that you’re a different person than you were before you started training as a Saint.”

“That’s interesting..” Sara took a bite of her sandwich, watching Lord Ptolemy.  “So all Saints have different names than the ones they had before?”

“Most of us do,” Lord Ptolemy said.  “But it’s not required so a few times a Saint decides that the name they were given was fine so they keep it.”

“So you didn’t like your birth name?” she couldn’t help asking.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it…but it didn’t seem right anymore.  I wasn’t the child who had started training to be a Saint, so I picked a name that I thought fit me better,”

“Ptolemy does suit you,”  Sara agreed, thinking that it really did fit him in an odd way.   Saints weren’t normal, so it made sense that they would choose names that were different from most people.

“Thanks!” Ptolemy looked pleased when she said that, “Um….Sara’s a really nice name too.”

“Thank you…” she had never really thought about her name before.  It wasn’t really memorable in anyway, and if anything it was boring.   Hearing someone say it was nice felt good, even though she was sure Lord Ptolemy was only saying it to be polite.   “That’s really nice of you to say.”

“Uh, you’re welcome. Umm…these are really good,”  he waved at the plate, which was now almost empty.

“Thank you,” she said, although she felt uncomfortable taking credit for her Aunt’s work.  But if she came clean she had a sneaking suspicion that her Aunt would be mad at her if she did admit that.  The merest chance that a  Saint found her interesting was to good to pass up for her family.   It was something they could brag about to everyone else.  Really, she didn’t mind that much.  Ptolemy was nice in his own way and he was certainly a lot better looking than the rest of the village boys…. “It must be nice to be able to choose your own name though.”

“I guess it is,” Lord Ptoemly said as he took a bite.  “I never really thought about it before.”

“You haven’t?”   That was something of a surprise to her.  “But you get to choose your own name, isn’t that kind of exciting?”

“I guess?” Lord Ptolemy looked over at her. “I was more excited about actually earning my cloth then the name thing.”

“Oh. I guess that would make sense..”  she nibbled at her sandwich.  “What was it like, becoming a Saint?”   Lord Ptolemy lit up at that.

“It was the proudest day of my life!  After everything, the training the fights, all of it, I finally got to prove that I was worthy of wearing the Sagitta Cloth!  I was finally a Saint and I will never forget the feeling of finally being able to kneel in front of the Pope and declare myself a Saint,”  he was speaking so excitedly and was almost beaming.    She tried to imagine ever being able to be that close to the Pope and what it must be like.

It didn’t’ work.  She didn’t even know what the Pope looked like.  Actually seeing such a powerful figure was beyond her.

“That’s amazing..” she said, not really sure if she was talking about Saints or being able to see the Lord Pope everyday.   There were only a few people in the village who had been granted that privilege and the majority of those were his over servants.

“It is.  I earned the rank of one of the strongest warriors in the world, worthy to stand by Athena herself!”  Lord Ptolemy looked very pleased with himself and she had to smile a little.

“So I should be honored to be able to eat lunch with a Saint?”  She said slightly teasingly.  He looked at her in surprise then smiled back.

“Well it as an honor to…um…have lunch with..a pretty girl?”  He grinned nervously at her.   When he did that he didn’t look like a Saint at all.   He was just another boy like that, although one that served the goddess.   The change, and his words made her gigigle and his grin gained a little more confidence.
“Thanks for  the meal, I was starving.”

It was only when he gestured at the plate that she realized it was empty and she hadn’t even noticed.  That had been enough to feed her Aunts entire family there.  She couldn’t imagine how he had eaten all of that so quickly.  “It was nothing, I hoped you liked it.”

“I already said it was really good, didn’t I?”  He actually smiled, handing the plate back to her, “you didn’t have to keep me company, if you didn’t want to.”

“But I did want to,” she  said, smiling.  It was true, kind of.   He had been  interesting when she had last meet him and even though she hadn’t been sure she wanted to sit through another awkward conversation with him, but she had enjoyed herself in the end.

“Really?”  he looked happy about it as they stood up.  She took the plate from him when he picked it up and held it out to her, then nodded shyly.   They stood that way for a few awkward moments before Lord Ptolemy sighed.  “I guess I should buy something.   I can’t keep stealing food from you.”

“It’s not stealing, it was a gift,” she said smiling.

“Still…, I  came down here to shop anyway,”  he didn’t look very  enthusiastic about it.

“Do you want…company?”  She wasn’t sure that she wanted to go shopping with him, food shopping was boring and she didn’t like him that much, but her Aunt would probably be mad if she didn’t at least offer.   Lord Ptolemy paused.

“You would do that?”   he said, then smiled.   “I don’t want you to get in trouble again though.  You’re Aunt is probably expecting you back.”

“I did promise I would be helping her the rest of today,”  she admitted.  That was the truth. She had skipped out once earlier in the week to go to the market with her friends and had felt so guilty that she had said she would work all day today to make up for it.   Although she had kind of been regretting promising  that earlier, now she was glad it gave her an excuse to bow out gracefully.

“Then you should go back,” he said, smiling slightly.  “Otherwise your family might start thinking that I’m a bad influence on you.”

“They wouldn’t ever think that,”  she assured him, deciding not to add that they would all be thrilled she was spending time with a Saint, as long as she didn’t neglect her duty that much.

“Still it would be rude to make you stay with me,” he grinned a little. “I hope you parents weren’t too hard on you last time.”

“They weren’t don’t worry.  Thank you for being so understanding about me having to run off like that,”  she smiled.   Lord Ptolemy smiled back.

“It was nothing.  You just wanted to help your family…I can understand.  It must be nice…”  he trailed off a bit.

“What must be nice?”  she asked curiously.  Something flash across his face.  Loneliness?  Sadness?  Regret?  She couldn’t tell before it was gone again and he gave her a rather strained smile.

“Nice to have a family,”  was all he said.  She froze, not sure what to say to that and not sure she wanted to know what he meant.  She just nodded instead.

“It is,” was all she managed to say.  It was the only thing she could think, what else where you suppose to say to something like that?  “I suppose I should be getting back then,”  she took a step backwards.

“Let me walk you back,”  he said and she nodded again, not being able to deny that.  Thankfully it didn’t take them that long to reach the entrance to her aunts shop.  She stopped in the doorway, then turned to think him.  “Thanks again for keeping me company like that,”  he said first.

“I already said it was nothing,” she answered, catching sight of her Aunt peeking out of the doorway out of the corner of her eye.  “I hope I didn’t bore you or anything.”

“You didn’t,” Lord Ptolemy grinned then he shuffled kind of nervously. “I guess I had better get going,”

“…Have a good day?” she said, unsure just what she was suppose to say now.

“…I will,” he answered as he looked at her.  “If I come around her again…will you be here?”  he asked suddenly.

“Or at least somewhere near here,” she answered without thinking.  “I mean…my Aunt will know where to find me at least.”

“I’ll remember that,” Lord Ptolemy said.   She nodded, wondering what he meant by that as she  watched him walk way.

**********
The day,  Ptolemy decided, hadn’t been to bad really.   Aside from Asterion being unfair, things had actually been good.  Sara had given him a free lunch, and hadn’t been boring or squeal the way some of the other girls where when he talked to her.

Afterwards, when he had been shopping, he had managed to get more than he needed.   The villagers insisted on either giving him things or giving him special discounts because he was a Saint.  The seemed to do that to all Saints so he was used it.  What he wasn’t used to was them suddenly asking him questions about how he was doing, his day, and always coming back to his lunch with Sara.  He wondered how so many people had found out about it so quickly.   It wasn’t like they had been hiding it or anything, but it seemed weird that everyone would be so interested.    He knew that always made a big deal out of any Saint, but he hadn’t realized it was that bad.

He hoped he hadn’t damaged her reputation or got her in trouble with her boyfriend.   They hadn’t done anything but if Rodario was anything like Sanctuary, the gossips were probably already twisting and confusing things to make things more interesting.

Come to think of it, the village really wasn’t that different from Sanctuary.  The moment something different or interesting happened, everyone seemed to want to know about it and made a big deal out of everything.    He shrugged it off as he reached his hut and put everything away, heading out to the training grounds when he was done.

There wasn’t much else to do in the Sanctuary, so most of it’s inhabitants would be found down watching or participating in the fights.   A usual crowd was gathered by the time he made it down.  Several of the trainees and guards called respectful greetings as he reached the main arena.  Other Saints just nodded and turned back to the various fights scattered across the are arena floor.

Most of these were little more than practice bouts between trainees or guards.  Ptolemy stopped to watch a fight between two of the more skilled trainees.   They looked familiar and he tried to place them as he judged their skill.   One of them might become a Saint someday, and it would be worth it to know something about his comrades in arms.  He thought the more skilled one might be one of Cancer Deathmask’s students, but he couldn’t be sure.     Trainees weren’t people he normally dealt with unless it was clear they had an actually chance of earning a Cloth.   There were too many trainees that failed each day for most to bother learning much about them.

The two in this match appeared to be at least worthy of consideration.  He could feel a spark of cosmo from them both, and that was something that not ever trainee had.    Ptolemy crossed his arms, trying to remember the names of the trainees and he thought he almost had once when he caught sight of a familiar face that was also watching the fight..   Immediately the fight faded from his mind and he tensed in anger.

Algol.   He hadn’t known the Perseus Saint was back yet from his mission yet.   There was that annoyingly superior smirk on his face that indicated his mission had been another success.  Fingernails dug into his arms but he ignored the pain.  He didn’t see why everyone seemed to think Algol was a better Saint.  Given the smallest chance he could prove he was just as good as the other Saint was.   But over and over again the Pope choose to pass over him for Algol of all people.  His attack might take a while longer than most other Saints to work but given enough time his arrows were suppose to even be able to take down a god.      Why couldn’t the Pope just give him a chance?     That was all he needed….

Ptolemy was so absorbed in this thoughts that he didn’t even  notice when the fight ended and one of the trainees was lead off in congratulation by his fellows.   As the crowd thinned, Algol looked away from the fight.  Their eyes meet and he smirked.   For a moment they just stayed that way, then Algol walked over to him.

“What are you looking at?”  the Perseus Saint said, that arrogant voice of his making Ptolemy tense even more.

“So you’re back,”  Ptolemy said snapped.

“I am,” Algol said agreeably,  “I finished my mission earlier than expected.  The Pope was impressed.”

“Good for you,” Ptolemy said sharply, turning to walk away.  Then Algol spoke up again.

“Of course, it was simple mission.   Even someone like you might have been able to pull it off…eventually,”  he said.   Ptolemy froze and then whirled around to face him.

“What makes you think you’re so much better than me?  Given the chance I could outdo you every time!” He snapped at the other Saint.

Algol smirked, crossing his arms.  “But you’re never going to get that chance, are you?  No one is going to want to risk something saving your target while those twelve hours go by , not when  there’s a choice to have them dead the moment they lay eyes on me.”

“Nothing but Lady Athena’s power can destroy the golden arrow of Stagitta!” he half-shouted back.  “A Saint isn’t just his cloth anyway, and without yours I’m more than a match for you!”

Algol laughed. “Do you really believe that?  Listen to yourself!”

“Without your cloth I can take you easily!” Ptolemy growled.   Algol tossed his hair.

“Care to prove it?”

“I will!”  Ptolemy shifted back in to an attack stance as Algol did the same.   There was no need to find a clear area.  Once everyone around them realized it was two Saints about to fight, they cleared the area on their own.  People were already shouting encouragement and yelling bets back and forth to each other as the two combatants started to circle each other.

Ptolemy charged, throwing a punch at the Perseus Saint, but Algol dodged, grabbed his arm and flipped him.  Ptolemy hit the ground hard, put rolled away quickly, barely ganing his feet in time to block a punch from Algol.  He retaliated with a kick, forcing the other Silver Saint back long enough for him to catch his breath.    They exchanged a few more blows, forcing each other across the arena.     Ptolemy realized he was in trouble when he slipped, his guard dropping for a split second.

Algol wasn’t one to let an opportunity like that go to waste.   The kick sent Ptolemy flying and he slammed into the wall of the practice ground, feeling the wall crack and give way.  He stumbled out of the wreckage to find Algol already running towards him.  There wasn’t time for him to dodge,  but there was still one trick he had left.    He gathered his cosmo and waited until Algol was close enough, then thrust his fist out.    The charging Perseus Saint skidded to a stop as he realized a multitude of small golden arrows were heading in his direction.

Algol managed to dodge most of them, but there were just too many for even a Saint to get away from.  He flinched, bracing for the impact of one hitting him but none came and he watched in desbeilf as the arrow passed through him.

“Illusion!?” He shouted in surprise right before Ptolemy’s knee slammed into his gut.  That opening was all the Stagitta Saint had needed.

Ptolemy gave the dazed Algol a vicious uppercut, sending him flying.  When he hit the ground again, the Stagitta Saint was waiting.   As the other Saint tried to gain his feet, Ptolemy planted a foot on his chest, forcing him back to the ground.   “Well?” he asked.

Algol glared at him. “You said we wouldn’t be using cosmo!” he growled.

“I never said anything about using Cosmo, only that I was a match for you without our cloths,” Ptolemy smirked a little himself, “and I guess I was right.”    He took his foot off the Perseus Saint.

“One win doesn’t mean you’re the better Saint,” Algol said as sat up.  “It only means you got lucky once.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Ptolemy called over his shoulder as he walked away, trying not to show that he wasn’t sure he could take Alogl if the Perseus Saint tried anything.

********
Up in the stands, from where they had been watching most of the fight, Asterion sighed and nudged Moses.

“Come on, lets go make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” the hound Saint said, nodding toward were  Ptolemy was exiting the arena.    Moses nodded.

“He took a few good hits there, and he’s probably worse off than he realizes.”  Moses was half way down the stairs before he realized that Asterion wasn’t behind him.  He glanced back to find the other Saint, frowning slightly as he watched some of Algol friends tend to him.

“Asterion! You coming? ” Moses yelled impatiently.   Asterion started, threw one last look at the Peresu Saint, then headed down the steps.  “What were doing?” Moses asked when he caught up.   Asterion looked thoughtful.

“Don’t you think that it seems like a lot of Saint are being sent out on missions lately?”  The Hound Saint asked.   Moses frowned, slightly confused.

“Aren’t Saints always being sent out on missions?” He said.

“Yeah, but it seems like it’s been more obvious lately…” Asterion trailed off, Moses sighed and slapped him on the back.

“Don’t go looking for trouble when there isn’t any.  You’re just over thinking things again!”

“Maybe I am…” Asterion said aloud, although he looked unconvinced as they headed down to find Ptolemy.