Chapter Text
The next time they meet, it's not amongst fields of golden grass, or even within the magnificent city of Castrum Kremnos.
Mydei stands across from Phainon; there's only a battlefield around them. There's a country behind the golden-haired man who was once a golden-haired boy. There's a city behind Phainon, too; it is not his city.
"You never told me you were a Kremnoan prince." Phainon says. He thinks he might be whispering, but his voice somehow manages to carry across the field anyway.
"I didn't think it was important." Mydei says. "Not in Aedes Elysiae. I could just be me, there."
"And not a prince." Phainon says. Somehow, he sounds like he's repeating someone else's words. "Not an avenger."
"No," Mydeimos huffs, making a sound that might almost be a laugh. "Just a dumb kid and his two friends." He trails off for a moment, eyes raking over Phainon's figure. Phainon feels like he's being flayed open, like someone's taken a knife and slipped it between his skin and his flesh- all his raw pieces exposed to the air.
"Is Cyrene with you?" Mydeimos asks. He looks like he might already know the answer, expression set in stone and gauntleted hands clenched into fists at his side.
"No." Phainon answers anyway. His voice cracks on the word. He opens his mouth again, hesitating on his next few words, but ultimately swallows down the painful ones. "Lady Aglaea is waiting for you."
Confusion and concern flash over Mydei's face. His expression settles into a frown, and he takes a few slow steps towards Phainon.
"Phainon…" He says slowly.
Phainon tries for a smile. "It's really nice to see you again." He says, and he means it. "But let's get your people settled first? It's been a long day for all of us, I'm sure." Mydeimos stares at Phainon for a few moments longer, but eventually, his shoulders slump, and he nods.
Phainon goes through the rest of the diplomatics as if in a haze. He'd never particularly been one for speaking, but even Aglaea takes one look at him when he returns with Mydeimos and the prince's entourage, and shoos Phainon out of the meeting room.
He ends up sitting just outside, on the edge of a planter, overlooking the Marmoreal baths. It's still early enough in the day that the baths are bustling with general populace. But as Phainon looks down at the below mingling about below, for a brief moment, he feels like a god.
Not in the powerful sort of way. In the way that makes him feel like he's floating above everything else. Far away and detached. Terribly lonely.
He must zone out, because the next time he glances up out of the window the light outside has dimmed, just enough to signify the onset of the next sleep cycle. His mouth is dry. His joints ache.
"Hey."
Phainon twists around. Mydeimos stands at the bottom of the steps leading up to him, just outside the entrance of the meeting room. Aglaea gracefully slips behind the prince. She glances in Phainon's direction, quietly tipping her head towards him, and gracefully stepping away from the scene.
"Hi." Phainon croaks. He coughs, swallows. "Sorry, we didn't get to talk properly earlier."
"It's fine." Mydeimos says stiffly. He starts ascending the stairs at the same moment Phainon rises to his feet to make his way down to the prince. The pair meet each other at the center of the steps. He's gotten so much taller than the shrimpy little kid who'd still been an entire hands-width shorter than Phainon. Mydei's packed on a lot more muscle now, and is also notably wearing a lot less fabric. If this were any other time, any other situation, perhaps Phainon would've been shameless enough to ogle.
Right now, though, bathed in dim sunlight and the reflection of the water baths below, Mydeimos just looks tired. About as tired as Phainon feels. It's not surprising; the prince has got a nation to lead, after all, and this war has been easy on no one.
"You asked about Cyrene, earlier." Phainon starts. A lump rises in his throat and for a moment he thinks he might vomit. He draws in a breath that burns on its way down as he tries to stamp out the feeling of his heart twisting in his chest. He hasn't thought about Cyrene in a long time. And Aedes Elysiae had been a very long time ago, now. It hurts to think about her, even more than it had to think about the rest of home.
"You don't have to say it." Mydeimos says quietly. "I'm sorry. She was a very good person." His gaze doesn't leave Phainon's face the entire time.
Phainon laughs wetly. The sounds comes out creaky, like an old shelf with far too many things straining its joints. He steps forward, reaching a shaky hand up towards Mydei's face. At the last minute, he reaches to the side, gently tugging on the small braid in Mydei's hair.
"It's really nice to see you again," He says. His hands are still shaking. "I'm so glad you're alive."
Mydeimos stares at him with wide eyes, devastation slowly dripping down the cracks of his princely mask.
"Aedes Elysiae?" Mydei asks quietly. Phainon just shakes his head.
Gone, he wants to say, but can't. Burnt and buried and dead. I killed them, did you know? I fought my way through their rotting corpses. Ran as the village burned behind me. Couldn't save a single precious thing. And Cyrene, who was the weaker one between them- the backline support, precious princess, she'd like to joke. It was his job to protect her. Just ashes and ashes now.
"Sorry," Phainon croaks out again. His eyes burn and he ducks his head, steadfastedly ignoring the tears that start plopping onto the stone ground at his feet.
He feels more than sees Mydei when the prince finally rises to the same step as him. Slowly, Phainon is pulled into a hug. Phainon snorts, but doesn't protest, wrapping his own arms around Mydei's shoulders.
"I'm so happy you're alive." Phainon chokes out. He buries his face into Mydei's neck. Mydei wraps his arms around Phainon.
"I'm happy you're alive too." Mydei returns.