Chapter Text
Manigoldo had just greeted Sage good-bye for now, with the usual reminder of that his master was the Pope and that he was too old to act like a child carelessly running off after a scolding for something.
“Hope that it will be a new mission for me soon so I can get away for a few days. The old man looks like he may need a small break from whatever headache I may cause him, but I am getting better to not do it deliberately nowadays!”
The young Cancer Saint knew that many wondered how the Pope had chosen him of all people to become his eventual successor as the fourth Gold Saint, but that was not something Manigoldo planned to ever tell. Sage was a father for him, despite how their relationship may look like for others.
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“Albafica!” he called in a louder voice so the younger Pisces Saint could hear him from wherever the other was, “I am passing though.”
But when Manigoldo was half-way through the Pisces Temple, he did feel that something was odd. Would not Albafica be seen in the distance on the hill, watering some of the non-poisonous roses at this time, or something such? He did have a less known talent for gardening, and would grow many herbs for food here so the stressed-out maids did not have to chase after their fellow maids in the Temples for help if they ran out of something to season the food.
“Albafica?”
Manigoldo paused in surprise when he saw something near the door out to the rose gardens. Was that the spirit of the Pisces Gold Cloth, flipping around in the air like a real fish out of water in distress? And where was Albafica if it acted like this? The Cloths of the Saints serving Athena could not speak in human voices, but they could still communicate in some way in that they had earned some form of self over the many Holy Wars thanks to all the humans wearing the Cloths and if one of the Cloths were acting like how the Pieces Gold Cloth did now, it meant that the bearer needed help.
“Damn! He better not be ill from the poisonous blood!”
Using his Cosmo as a shield to protect himself against the poisonous roses and their troublesome scent, Manigoldo began to search for his fellow Gold Saint. One major worry with Albafica was that he lived alone, partly in fear that he would accidently poison someone with his blood if he got injured by a mission, and out of guilt for that whole story with how his master, Pisces Rugonis, died.
“Albafica! Oi, Principessa Rosa! ” Manigoldo called, using a old nickname on Albafica which, hailing from their first meeting when he had mistaken the younger boy for a girl, had earned him a rather long chase around the training area as the younger boy tried to turn him into a human hedgehog with some non-poisonous roses in revenge for being called that. Especially when Rugonis had informed Albafica that Manigoldo had called him "Rose Princess" in Italian.
“Albafica?!”
The other Gold Saint lay prone among the roses, a dropped watering can next to his hand revealing that Albafica indeed had tried to do his usual everyday chores when he collapsed all suddenly, and when Manigoldo carefully turned him over, the reason why Albafica had collapsed was revealed: His face was flushing red with fever and he coughed hard.
“Damn, you better not have caught pneumonia on your last mission up in Norway! I know that you try to stay away from others, but some illnesses can still be caught in the air around strangers!”
Now was not the time for Albafica to be alone. He needed someone to help care for him until he had recovered from his illness, and Manigoldo knew that the treatment needed to start right away before Albafica became even more ill.
“Oi, Cancer, can you pass on the old man that I will be in the Pisces Temple for a while? Pisces cares for Albafica, but he needs a fellow human in this situation.”
Getting whacked on his head with the back fin of the understandable upset Pisces Gold Cloth before the Cancer Gold Cloth, in a manner that oddly reminded him a lot of Sage, dragged it along in one claw up to the Pope's Chamber was worth the comment. Sage had once said that some Cloths became almost like non-human parents if their future Saints spent nearly their whole lives in the Sanctuary, so that clearly was true for Albafica and the Pisces Gold Cloth.
“Come on, bello, you need to get laid down in your bed.”
Picking up Albafica so he carried the younger Saint in his arms like a small child, Manigoldo hurried back to the Pisces Temple.