“What are you looking for?” asked Aldebaran, obviously intrigued by the behavior of Mu, and slightly un-at-ease to find himself in the book silo of the Order of Ermengardis. He looked around him: as far as his eyes could meet, on stages and stages, there were only racks filled with books. Most of them were very old: the dust floating in the atmosphere was here to testify it. Aldebaran felt his nose stinging and sneezed.

“Bless you!” retorted Mu, without giving even a look to him.

“Thanks!” answered Aldebaran, a little surprised his words came in English. He sat down on a table.

“Okay, let’s see what we have here...” said Mu in loud voice, while inspecting a book shelf.

“Mu, what are we here for, exactly?” asked the giant, definitively not at ease to be there...

Mu turned around, and answered learnedly:

“Finding information about our enemy is as important as training, Aldebaran”.

“Sorry, but I think that we really need training, even more than learning who our enemy is... I recollect that they hit very hard... Very strongly...”

Mu, slightly irritated, was going to repeat his preceding sentence when his hand brushed against an oval and frozen form. Under his touch, he guessed the palm of a hand, then five small fingers. “The hand of a child… On the rack!” he thought with horror. He moved back, pushing a cry, and ran up against the table behind him. His heart was strongly beating when he became motionless. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” asked Aldebaran, a little concerned with Mu’s behavior.

“On the rack... The hand of a child!” stammered Mu. Aldebaran approached the furniture and looked at the rays one by one.

“There is nothing...”
”But it was so real!”

“It’s all this dust! Who knows what’s inside! Come on, let’s leave this place!” Aldebaran was going to catch Mu by the shoulder when applauses made him start.

“Very beautiful scene, worthy of "Blair Witch project" or the "Exorcist"!” said Shaka, switching of his camera.

“That’s not fun at all! It looked so real! “retorted Mu, slightly upset. 

“I was not laughing at you…. It was perhaps a hallucination... Who knows, with all this dust! “

“Yes, exactly!” triumphed Aldebaran.

“By the way, what are you doing here?” asked Mu.

The face of Shaka became even more serious.

“In fact, I was looking after you...”

“For what? Oh, sorry, stupid question! You seek models for your photographs?” scoffed　Mu.

“No, it’s about Camus... He’s getting downer and downer every day. I think somebody has to speak with him and find out what’s going wrong with him…”

“Camus?”

“Yes, I’ve just tried to have a talk with him, but it’s like speaking with an iron door... Then I thought that if one of you tried... Mu, you, for example... Perhaps one of you would be able to draw him from the depression and the morbid thoughts he is sinking into...”

Mu nodded:

“I think that it would be better if it was a close relative who talks with him... Apart from Milo, of course.”

“Apart from Milo, well, sure...” sighed Shaka.

The hot-springs were in the park of the Headquarters. The northern wing of the Bishamonten Pavilion gave on a bridge, which spanned a wild river. It was necessary to walk a small stone way, then to climb a more vertical one, enlightened by Japanese lanterns. The pool of the source was after a second bridge, in a building similar to a temple, built at the edge of the river. Arrived there, Camus just sank into the hot water. The contrast between the outside temperature and the water seemed painful during a few seconds, then he felt with delight heat invading his body and relax his muscles. Aphrodite was right: it was a true cure of youth and relaxation. At the exception of the bath towel, that Camus had to tighten around his size and to prevent from floating in water, to avoid unveiling some intimate part of his body.

He thought again about Aphrodite: he had knocked to his door one hour ago, to discuss with him. It had taken some time to Aphrodite to open his door, unveiling a puffy face and eyes half-closed by sleep. Of course, Camus had asked him what was going wrong, but Aphrodite had just answered that he was tired and needed some more sleep. He had indicated the hot-springs, and then had closed his door, coming back to whatever mysterious activity. Camus sat more comfortably in the water, coming up to his shoulders, and sighed. He would have liked to help Aphrodite, but felt totally unable to do so. He was himself too much stuck in the limbo of his memories to help somebody else. Any minute, any second unless he felt he was about to fall in a bottomless hole, but couldn’t say who or what he could hang up、or if even he should hang up something. Falling or standing out?

A lapping brought back him to reality, and announced that somebody was coming to his direction. Then a silhouette emerged in the fog created by the hot vapor, close to the statue of a Japanese god that was lording in the center of the pool.

“Camus?” called the voice of Shura.

“Ah! It’s you Shura!” answered Camus, suddenly readjusting his floating towel.

“May I join you?”

“Yes, please!”

Shura sat down close to Camus, taking care not to let escape his towel, too. The two men kept silent during a few moments, looking straight in front of them.

“Camus, May I ask you a question?”

“Yes, Shura, what do you want to know?”

“When we were in Onimura, did you have strange visions...?”
Camus looked at Shura, surprised. He had never spoken with anyone about his visions. How could Shura know it?

“Why are you asking me this?”
Shura cleared his throat, obviously not at ease with the explanations he was to give.

“Actually, I had visions... of my parents... And in one of them, I was even talking with my father... I don’t know how I should consider that...”

“Me also, I had the same type of vision at the end of this terrible adventure...”

“Do you think that it means something precise…? Or have a hidden meaning?”

“I don’t know, me neither...”
A new lapping interrupted their conversation, signal that a third man had just entered the bath. A new silhouette cut out close to the statue of the god, and walked straight to Shura and Camus.

“Good evening! Can I join you?” Almost sang a familiar voice. The smiling face of Milo emerged from a cloud of vapor, as he stopped a few meters from Shura and Camus.

“Milo!?” exclaimed Camus, surprised and slightly annoyed.

“Oh! Camus… I didn’t know that you would be there... I am leaving… I don’t want to bump into your conversation, guys...” apologized Milo, slightly piqued, seeing that Camus was staring him rather icily.

“You’re not disturbing me, as I was to leave!” quipped Camus, rising out of the hot water. His move was far too quick, and the small towel tied around his size didn’t follow, staying under water. Camus found himself in his birthday suite.

Shura laughed heartily, followed soon by Milo. Camus didn’t find the situation fun at all, and felt his body boiling of rage. A feeling he thought he would have never been able to feel anymore.

“What are you laughing at, it’s not funny!” he thundered against his two companions of bath, hilarious.

And with an enrage movement, he picked up the cursed towel and adjust it again around his size, before moving away, frankly irritated. He unfortunately stumbled on a stone, slightly inserted in the water, and which was not visible because of the vapor. Shura set out again in a burst of laughter, while Milo came to Camus, a little anxious.

“That’s ok?” You didn’t harm you too much?

“What!? You’re asking me if I am okay?!” Camus answered, almost madly. “So I am going to tell you... No, I am not ok! ... Everything is not alright!”

Milo and Shura kept silent. They had never listened to Camus with such a voice, where the accents of anger rolled like thunder claps in a too dark sky.

“How do you want me to be ok? After what you have done to me!”　Camus howled while turning to Milo.” I believed you were my brother, my best friend... And you were not even able to recognize it during the last battle!” Milo kept silent, staring at the surface of water.

“Hey! Look at me when I speak to you... You didn’t hesitate to call me “a traitor”, and to strike me with your scarlet needle!”

This time, Milo looked at him, and said, his voice hiding badly his emotion:

“And you, did you care striking me with Athena Exclamation?”

Camus struck the water with his right fist, and howled:

“And you, you attacked me too! If you had trusted me, we would have never had to fight against each other!”

“Saga, Shura and you had just assassinated Shaka, and you expected me to trust you!” quipped Milo, almost mocking.

Shura had remained motionless, but was ready to intervene in the case the conversation would turn to a real battle.

“You do really understand nothing!” shouted Camus.

“But what should I understand? Tell me!” asked Milo, almost upset.

The tone of his voice put Camus out of his limits. He came straight to Milo, and clutched his throat, as to strangle him. But he was actually not putting a too great pressure on it. Not yet. Shura stood up, this time ready to help Milo.

“But what I forgive you the less, Milo, it that right after the suicide of Athena, you had transferred all your rage and anger on me… Our goddess had understood our mission, how we wanted to help her and fight Hades… But not you! You saw only one thing; killing the enemy who I was!”

Camus released the throat of Milo.

“Camus, I... “　stammered Milo.

“I was right to believe that you must trust nobody... Friends always betray you a day or another!” Camus looked at Milo, then to Shura. His glance was now sad. He turned his back to them, collected his towel, which had once again fallen into the depths of the pool, and moved away.

“I am sorry! ... Camus! I am so sorry!” The voice of Milo was serious. Emotion tightened his throat, choking almost his words. Camus stopped at the edge of the hot-spring.

“It was war; I behaved as a soldier, as the Scorpio Gold Saint had to act. With all the violence characterizing my sign... It was my duty. But remember, Camus. You were used to tell me a Saint must always act according to what rules his sign?”

Camus was still turning the back on Milo, and remained quiet. Shura had sat down on a stone, and continued to stare at the scene. He was however still in alert, woring about the new and rather violent behavior of Camus.

“Camus, I am sorry, I want to be your friend again... Your best friend, as I used to be!” Milo begged, moving slightly to Camus.

Camus then turned around: his face had become calm, and his voice, quiet again.

“I am sorry to show you my anger... Accept my apologizes, Milo… And good night!”

And turning around once again, he disappeared in the fog.

”Ambre! He’s right in front of you! Go ahead! Try to attract his attention!” whispered Thetis in her microphone. She was at the security room of the night club; on one of the screens, the pale face of the vampire has just appeared, close to the bar, not far from Ambre.

”5 by 5! I will raise his temperature... Well, it's just a way of speaking... “answered Ambre. She heard the last notes of a techno song, soon replaced by an electronic music, slightly disco...

"Baby please Baby please don' T go I got dregs to feed... 7"

”With that kind of music, that won't be hard to make him go up the wall!” chuckled Ambre.

She went up on one of the platform that held on the track, pushed two big foreigners, forcing them to go down. Then she started swaying at the sound of the music she knew so well.

"Salome... Salome Shake it shake it shake it Salome"

Ambre stared hard the young Asian male, who stared at her in return from the bar. He wore a long suit, had his black and short hairs slicked-back. He face was full with self-insurance...  ‘Surely a trader of Otemachi’8... thought Ambre. She beckoned him to approach by languorous signs of the hand.

"Shake it shake it shake it Salome... shake it shake it shake it Salome"

The young man finally decided to approach, a glass in the hand, smiling to the beautiful raid-haired woman.

“Hello Babe, can I dance with you?” he asked contemptuously.

For any answer, Ambre caught him by a hand, checking that it was frozen, like death. ‘It’s him, no doubt!’ She thought, helping him to climb on the pedestal.

"Please Baby please slow fox trot down Baby I feel sick
Don' T make me stick to my promised"

The man tied his hands around Ambre’s size, and whispered her softly:

“We could go somewhere less noisy… Where we could discuss about us…” he proposed seductively, putting a glance in the direction of the shelter leading to the private rooms.

"Salome... Salome Shake it shake it shake it Salome"

”Let’s go there!” Ambre exclaimed, seizing him by the tie.

"Shake it shake it shake it Salome Salome... shake it shake it shake it Salome"

They quickly went up on the second floor, in one of the open galleries surrounding the dance track.

"Salome... shake it shake it shake it Salome"

The young Japanese man attracted Ambre on a couch, slightly plunged in the half-light, and wrapped her in his arms. ‘Ok, here we are’! Ambre thought, playing now the timid young woman.

“Very beautiful, you are very beautiful!” whispered the Japanese.

His face changed suddenly into a mask of hatred and cruelty, showing up his true nature.

“Yes!” Ambre shouted, kicking with her knees the abdomen of her attacker. He moved back, as much under the surprise as under the pain, and received a new punch on the chin, which sent him directly against the guardrail.

"Baby please Baby don' T say No"

"Won' T you dance for me under the cherry tree"

The vampire shook the head, slightly knocked out, and stood quickly on his feet. Ambre leaped on him, and struck him with her right fist. The vampire blocked it with a hand, and pushed back the young woman with a kick.

"Won' T you swing down low"

Ambre stumbled against the coffee table and felt down on the couch.

"Please baby please say yes baby don' T go away You' Re spilling me And your precious coils"

The time to rise from the black leather pillars, and the vampire was already far away, running in the opposite gallery, in search of an exit to flee.

"Salome... Salome Shake it shake it shake it Salome"

Ambre slipped an eye to the western gallery, and made out the silhouette of Shina, crossing the crowd of the small living rooms.

“Ok, back-up arrives!”

"Shake it shake it shake it Salome Salome... shake it shake it shake
it Salome"

“Shina! He’s trying to escape, going northern gallery, we have to catch him before!” Ambre howled, rushing in the gallery.

The other customers of the night club deviated from her way, some of them thrown almost into a panic since they had seen Ambre fighting a few seconds earlier.

"Salome... shake it shake it shake it Salome"

”Oh Yes, it’s going to shake, and strongly!” whispered Ambre between her teeth.

"Salome... shake it shake it shake it Salome"

Sion was waiting in the corridor, leaning against the door of the office of James. He had crossed his arms on his chest, and kept his eyes closed, his head slightly tilted towards the ground. He looked like a feline ready to leap on his prey. James stopped some steps away from him, obviously surprised to find him there.

“Sion! What does worth me the honor of your visit...? Or I would rather say, of the siege of my office?”

Sion threw him a heinous glare.

“How have you managed to become the Great Master of this Order, Knight James Gladstone?”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand...”

Sion stood, and took a step ahead in the direction of James.

“I will always remember the night when I met you, Eleny of Essex and you, James Gladstone... And of the innocent victim you killed... Monsters that you were... And that you still are...

Sion tightened his fists and took another step ahead.

“So, I’m waiting for the answer! By which miracle your crimes have been forgotten? How you could become the Great Masters of the Order of Ermengardis!?”

James sighed.

“That happened a few days after the night you were talking about...”

May 1742, England, Castle of Wivern

Eleny and James killed the four guards who were on duty at the western door, without any mercy. Then they slid inside the court of the castle, heading right towards the building where were the private apartments. The idea to dig their hooks in the neck of the lords of this castle, and drinking their noble blood poked their appetite. They quickly arrived at the main gate of the apartments, whose door was kept by two guards.

“Halt!”

“Calm down, my friend... We are guests of the Lord of Wivern...! Please advise him that Lady Eleny of Essex, and the Knight James Gladstone, have arrived from London!” answered James with self-assurance.
”We do not have any order concerning you...” replied the chief of the guards, slightly impressed.

Eleny approached him, a timid smile lightening her lips.

“Won’t you let us enter? I am so tired of this long trip...”

The chief of the guards hesitated, but anxious of the paleness of Eleny, yielded a gesture of hospitality and said:

“Please, Lady of Essex and Knight Gladstone, please come in...”

The so much awaited words had just been pronounced! They were free to enter the residence of the livings! Eleny and James looked at themselves, a satisfied smile on the lips. Then they cut the throat of the guards, and entered the noble apartments. After a few minute, James and Eleny arrived finally at the room of the lord of the manor. A door, richly decorated with strange weapons that they didn’t know, protected the access. They broke the latch and came in silently. They were immediately caught by the distressing atmosphere that reigned there.

”I think we should leave this place!” whispered Eleny, stopping abruptly. James took her arm:

“Don’t fear anything; it’s only a human who’s sleeping here...”

He pushed her in front of him end encouraged her to look on the direction of the bed, where a shape was resting.

“Have you seen this?” Eleny indicated a shade drawn up not far away from the bed. James approached and could not repress a cry of exclamation. It was a kind of armor, vaguely reproducing the shapes of a mythical animal. But which one? James didn’t remember it at all...

“James! We really should leave!” Eleny insisted, moving slightly back.

James brushed his fingers against the surface of the armor. Its touch was strange: a mixture between stone, iron, and marble. He believed to hear whispers around him and withdrew his hand, as if it was to burn.

“You’re right Eleny, let’s leave this place!” he said while turning around.

Eleny was not on sight anymore...

”Eleny?” he called.

James felt a worrying presence... A noise of crumpling sheets made him turn the head towards the bed. He saw the body of Eleny, resting on the silk cover.

“Eleny...?”

James carried his hand to his sword, but realized that it was missing... He heard laughter behind him, just before an iron grip seized his throat as he turned around to face who he already felt as an enemy.

“Welcome to this castle, Knight Gladstone...”

James seized the wrist of his attacker, trying to loosen the pressure on his neck.

“Who are you?”

“Odovacar of Wyvern, Lord of this castle, and certainly your torturer, vampire!”

James tried to make out the features of his opponent: he saw blond and short hairs, drawn up on the head, a hatchet face, planted on a muscular neck. And glowing eyes, which caught his glance, before he felt a terrible pain in his chest. Odovacar had knocked the sword that he had just withdrawn from his belt. James howled of pain.

“Interesting! Then, you, vampires, can suffer?”

“We can suffer! But what we do better is to make the other suffer!”

James tightened his fist, and punched Odovacar with all his strength. The lord was pushed back by the punch, and carried his hand to his painful belly. James tore off the iron from his shoulder, and leaped on Odovacar, digging his hooks in his neck. He felt like he was grabbed in a dark swirl, bringing him into the deepest darkness of the Kingdom of the dead. Against him, Odovacar struggled more and more slightly. James tightened his pressure, and kept sucking the vital fluid of his opponent. He was suddenly overcome by strange visions: a temple... A man, sited on a throne, topped by a platform decorated with morbid scenes... Odovacar, kneeling in front of the man, paying his respects... James couldn’t see more of those his visions and violently pushed back Odovacar, who felt on the ground, unconscious.

The vampire made all his efforts not to fell on his knees, and slip himself into unconsciousness. He went to the bed, took Eleny in his arms, and then jumped by the window in the court of the castle. He managed to walk a few miles, before he collapsed in some fields, Eleny still unconscious within his arms.

When he reopened the eyes, he was in a barouche, heading to London. Eleny was by his sides, trying to draw him from his delirium. The barouche was arriving in the surroundings of London when a strange light shone inside. Just as a voice, coming from nowhere, spoke:

“Vampires, here’s your punishment for the attack against one of my Specters...!”

Strange lights spout out luminous ball and touched first Eleny. She rolled against the bench, howling in pain, holding her head between her two hands. James tried to reach her, but was touched by the same light. A flood of images came to his mind. A torrent of voices whispered to his hears. His victims, all the people he had killed since he became a vampire, were coming to claim their revenge.

”And you think I gonna believe you?! Don’t tell me you were suddenly caught by remorse!” Scoffed Sion.

“God Hades, because it was him, and not another one, returned us our souls, as a kind of punishment...”

“How come having a soul is a punishment?”

“Yes, it is… Because when we got our soul back, all the pallet of human feelings returned also to us; remorse, compassion, love... All these feelings we were deprived since after our transformation, were a whole part of us again... And just overcame us.”

Sion blinked eyes, a bit at loss with what to say.

“And then, what had happened to you after?”

James crossed his arms on his chest, and rested against the wall. His glance was lost in the vacuum.

“Arrived to London, we were, Eleny and me, completely unable to move, and were carried to a hospital. The legists understood that we were not human like the other ones... They contacted the squadron of London, which picked us the following night. They hesitated to put an end to our suffering and our existence, then decided to
bring us to the headquarters of the Order. Maybe our strange disease and the crazy story I was telling through my delirium pushed them to take this decision...

At the Headquarters, we have been studied, observed and studied again by specialists of the Order of Ermengardis, during weeks and weeks. Their verdict was that we were the first vampires with a soul, and thus, we had to be kept alive, at the Headquarter. They said that we could be useful later... The Great Council ratified this proposal, and ordered that we would learn the “principles of Ermengardis”, and made them ours, by our free will or not. This education, or rather rehabilitation, took more than one century. Eleny and I remained locked up until 1850, in one of the pavilion of the headquarters in London, our days being spent on the reading of the chronicles of Ermengardis, and meditation on our future place in the world. Our jailers were brutal and without mercy- I don’t find any other words to describe them, and the way they punished us for the least fault. But we ended up finding the light... When we recovered freedom, we had become two perfect subjects of the Order of Ermengardis, eager to serve justice and to fight malefic forces. After many hesitations, the Great Council, and the Great Master, decided to let us join the squadron of London... We showed Eleny and me as much zeal to destroy vampires and werewolves as the other members of the squadron. Except that we were not human, and had the strength of young vampires. 20 years later, I was named Head of the London squadron...

At the end of the nineteenth century, the Great Master of the Order, Sir William Morchwood, called me on his deathbed, and asked me to succeed him. He wanted to designate a Great Master whose life longevity would make it possible to ensure the permanence of the Order over centuries and centuries. I accepted, however I was persuaded that the Great Council would refuse this candidature. But against my expectations, the majority of the twelve Great Counselors ratified my nomination unanimously. Thus, in 1895, Eleny and I reached the highest distinction of the Order...

But believe me, Sion; my conviction in Ermengardis didn’t come from my fears of being beaten by my jailers, or from the lassitude of my prison. It came from my heart, my soul... I wanted to help human beings. I wanted to be, finally. And it’s how I finally find the strength to be.”

”I didn’t know... I’m sorry...” apologized Sion, coming closer to the Great Master.

”I hope that you have understood we are on the same side, you and me… And that that you are very welcome to join Ermengardis, and help us… But, will you trust me? “

Sion shook the head, but unable to give a clear answer, just stated:

“I can try”.