Archive of Our Own

Sandalphon was no stranger to grief, or its many forms. He mostly knew anger; irritable demeanor was common with him. Irritation often aimed at surroundings, Sandalphon soon making it a habit to simply isolate. Sneak away from everyone-everything that irritated and exhausted him-and be by himself. Though, occasionally, some would voice concern, the captain allowed it. Orion, too, knew how grief worked. It was still far too soon for wounds to have mended, still tender from when they opened.

“He seems fine ta me?” Vyrn’s words seem ignorant, but he shows patience, hands moving slowly, explaining, ‘when you lose someone that means the world to you, you hurt in a lot of different ways.’

Orion glances up at Sandalphon as he sits, perched up on a beam above the deck the rest of the crew is confined to. “Dontcha think,” Vyrn speaks again, worry lacing his words, “he shouldn’t be left alone if he’s sad? I wouldn’t want ta be alone.”

The captain shakes his head, eyes watching as Sandalphon shifts, gaze still held forward, a leg dangling absently. ‘Everyone deals with sadness in their own way. Give him time. He knows what he needs best.’

The little dragon leaves it at that, flying off to join Lyria for an appley treat. Orion’s gaze is still held on Sandalphon. A shift, and crimson is meeting with the captain’s own darker toned eyes. They look at one another for a moment, silent understanding. His hands move, comforting silence continued, and he leaves the primarch be.

‘I’m here. We’re all here.’

Recovery is a slow, sometimes painful process. Most days, Sandalphon keeps to himself, avoiding everyone as much as possible. He started, however, forcing himself upon company. It was a gradual thing he decided to do. And, most of the time, no one really commented on it, and just allowed it to happen. Sandalphon would join and leave on his own accord. The time spent with others slowly lengthened; awkward shuffle, he would sit in broody silence for a few moments, before deciding it was too draining and leaving. He allowed the comfort of other presences to come slowly, making himself stay a little longer each time.

The sun hadn’t risen yet, Orion doing his usual rounds on the Grandcypher as the ship steadily held its course to the next island, the sun threatening to break over the horizon any moment now. He makes his way to the ship’s kitchen, going to make his coffee. Sandalphon always beats him there, having brewed himself a cup and left long before Orion shows up. The only evidence that leads Orion to believe this is the fact Sandalphon leaves everything out and cleaned for Orion’s use; brewer on the counter, perfect amount of beans left aside, and Orion’s mug, a gift Vyrn and Lyria had hand-painted for him, left out on the counter.

He is surprised to smell the scent of brewed coffee, stronger than the usual lingering scent, wafting down the hall as the approaches the kitchen. He thinks, for a moment, that perhaps it’s Rackham and Noa. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he ran into the two exchanging words over a cup of coffee (or tea, in Noa’s case). It was always a nice morning when the two joined him- they made good company.

“Morning, Captain.”

Sandalphon doesn’t turn away from the brewer, voice low as he greets Orion. He seems to steel himself, taking a moment before he peers over his shoulder. “I’m almost finished and then the brewer is all yours… though, I made too much, so perhaps we could share? I ran out of my beans, so I used some of yours anyway…”

Orion could see right through his tense lie. They just restocked all coffee beans at the last island- Orion personally brought Sandalphon’s preferred beans back to the ship for him. But he simply smiles and nods, signing slowly. ‘I would love a cup. Thanks.’

He waits, leaning against the table casually. The silence is comfortable, as it always is, yet there’s a bit of an edge of exhaustion. Sandalphon turns to Orion, handing him his mug. Before Orion takes it, however, his hands move, speaking. ‘Would you like to join me at the front of the ship? The sun should be up soon, and it’s a clear day.’

And so, he finds himself in the company of his captain longer than expected, sitting atop crates and looking out over the sky. Wind gently blows against them, tussling hair, and the sky begins to awaken. That comforting silence Sandalphon often seeked settled upon them once more, the two sipping coffee in the peaceful glow of morning. The sun felt nice on his face, and Sandalphon lowers the mug and closes his eyes, allowing himself to relax, soak in the sun’s rays.

Sandalphon couldn’t understand what kind of joy Orion could possibly find in spending quiet minutes with the primarch. He never had anything interested to talk about, if he had anything to say at all. They were not without their similarities, of course, which Sandalphon reluctantly admits. Where others were cheerful, loud, preferring to be among the company of others, Sandalphon and Orion - with few others in the patchwork crew the captain called “home” - preferred silence, solitude, and the calm of a clear night.

Even so, even Jamil and Ayer sought company. Silence and solitude could only be taken in bursts, some longer than others, but it is never something that should be a permanent dwelling. Orion knows, and he is patient. He sees how Sandalphon is learning this slowly. Sees how, even in company, he still needs silence. He understands, and he won’t push.

That’s why, when he finally speaks, he clears his throat. A warning, gentle, allowing Sandalphon a moment before silence is broken by a voice, ragged and low, not often heard.

“You’re doing good so far.”

Sandalphon feigns ignorance, mouth against the rim of his mug, taking a breath. “I’m just doing my part. Nothing more.”

But, of course, the smile Orion gives him tells all. They both know what he really means, and Sandalphon might be swelling with some inch of pride deep down, but he’d never let anyone see. Of course not. He’d never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him actually happy over receiving praise. Especially not over something trivial like this.

Crimson scans over the horizon, and they continue to sit in silence. Slowly, life on the Grandcypher begins to stir, and when it becomes too much, air being stifled simply by existing in the same space as others, Sandalphon begins to make his retreat. Orion takes his mug as he leaves, letting him go.

Recovery is a slow process. It’s not a pleasant thing to go through; something that is far from easy. Though the road ahead will be rocky for him, Orion isn’t necessarily worried for Sandalphon. He’s already made strides on his own, and though the walk may lead him to stumble, he continues forward regardless. He will get better.

Orion takes one final sip of his coffee, lips playing in a smile as he heard Lyria’s cheerful voice call to him from the main deck of the ship.

Sandalphon found himself in unlikely company often. Of course, Lyria still stuck to him, happily chattering away with Vyrn and Orion. They liked to drag Sandalphon along with them when they went shopping on the islands they visited.

But then, without realizing it, he’d begun to branch out.

Orion sometimes had others accompany him. Jamil, the ever-watchful assassin, wanting to accompany his self-proclaimed master should trouble arise. Ayer tended to tag along as well whenever Jamil did. The two were an unlikely pair, but had somehow found comfort in one another in the quiet early mornings. Though it was awkward, conversation would be made while Orion was busy browsing shops, the three simply lagging behind.

Occasionally, Rosetta would poke into Orion’s business, showing up in the market with Katalina, Lyria, and Io in tow. Orion would join in with their group, Sandalphon coming along, and everyone spoke. It was light, easy conversation, and he didn’t feel overwhelmed. He didn’t think anything of it until he was the one initiating conversations.

Altair ran into the pair when he was out doing his own supply run. Sandalphon greeted him and smoothly transitioned into a conversation, something simple, asking what Altair was looking for. Orion stood by and watched, though pretending not to notice as he idly looked through the crowd of the market, trying to locate the shop they were looking for. Sandalphon pointed out the shop he and orion had passed earlier seemed to be what the tactician was looking for, and he went on his way.

There were times, however, when Sandalphon found it wise to stray from Orion’s side and meander on his own. Sandalphon would sidestep, telling the captain and whatever other company currently accompanied him that he was going to explore the town on his own, and Orion would wave him on his way.

He was never quite ready to return to the airship whenever he left a group. Feet would simply carry him, pulling him along. Wandering through twists and turns, dancing around people in the crowd. Though, it always exhausted him, he couldn’t bring himself to return to the quiet of the ship just yet. Running into Seruel and Naoise, the three conversed, though words were few, and the three parted ways soon after.

The remainder of the day was spent like that, walking around, looking in various shops, running into various people. The sun had begun to set by the time Orion, Lyria, and Vyrn had found him. Sandalphon noted that the previous company was nowhere to be seen, probably having already returned to the ship, Orion staying behind in favor of searching for the supreme primarch. Though he shakes his head, he walks back with them, smile threatening his features, but he keeps it suppressed through with a sigh.

This was a comfort Sandalphon began to seek out. His time for grieving wasn’t over, far from it, but it was manageable, he found, with the other crewmates. Those that were permanent members that constantly traveled with the Grandcypher, and those that came and went alike, had somehow been able to start making dents in the walls Sandalphon preferred to stay behind. They settled back into the ship, the hushed voices of chatter along the deck and below keeping low late into the night. People dispersed, retiring, and Sandalphon decided that tonight, instead of staying up and allowing thoughts to torment him, he would rest.

Passing by Orion, the captain smiled at him, reaching out to stop him for a moment. Sandalphon looked to him, eyes watching carefully, waiting for hands to move and speak for him. Instead, mouth opens, Orion seeming to be thinking over his words a moment before shaking his head, smiling at Sandalphon once again. “Sleep well.”

Voice was always spoken lowly, but it was warm and inviting; gentle. Orion hardly ever talked aloud, rarely finding comfort to be able to do so. Vyrn or Lyria tend to do the talking for him, literally when someone couldn’t understand what Orion’s hand motions meant. Sandalphon allowed himself to relax, returning the gentle expression. “You too, Orion.”

Sandalphon could feel his blood run cold, shooting through his body like ice, upon the introduction of a new crewmate. No one noticed the supreme primarch step onto the deck, early in the morning, fresh mug of coffee in his hand. It became a simple pleasure that Orion showed him, sitting on deck and watching the sun climb over the horizon, a beautiful serenity. However, such a thing seemed to crumble. Mug slips from his hand in the momentary shock, shattering on the deck, coffee splashing onto his legs, burning through his tights, and he jumps. All pairs of eyes focus on him, and he feels a strong urge to run.

Lyria is at his side in an instant, asking if he’s okay, checking over his legs. Vyrn tells Lyria to mind the glass and coffee on the deck, rushing off to get a cloth. Orion looks at Sandalphon, face pale; understanding. He didn’t think, before bringing the stranger back on the ship. Didn’t realize, until Sandalphon reacted.

Orion had forgotten that Sandalphon hadn’t met this man yet, despite some of the other crew members being familiar with him already.

The stranger, with short, soft white hair. With a soft, gentle face, pale skin, and dull blue eyes. A strong looking figure, who didn’t show much emotion save for the slight raise of brows, which then creased with worry. He stepped forward, looking to help, and Sandalphon took a step back, hands white-knuckled at his sides.

And then, something in him reverted.

He didn’t think, didn’t allow himself to stay there. Brown wings carried him up and away from the deck, over the town. Faintly, he hears Lyria call to him, drowned out by Orion’s own shout. But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t know where he’s going, flying past the town, and the one after, and the one after that, far onto the island, but he refuses to stop. He only touches down when he feels his stomach lurch, Sandalphon bending over to retch, his stomach having nothing but bile to dispense onto the ground.

The day was spent, on Sandalphon’s end, aimlessly wandering with unsteady legs and a numb mind. Everything he’d done up to this point all changed and disappeared in an instant, because a stranger had an appearance of the one he lost.

All because a stranger looked like Lucifer.

Thoughts fight one another ceaselessly, thinking it was rude for leaving everyone to clean his mess; thinking they were in the wrong for not warning him; thinking it was rude for not having gotten the man’s name; thinking it was rude that he even dared step foot on his ship, wearing that face as though it were his own.

But it’s not his ship. It’s Orion’s, and Orion could invite anyone he wanted to.

He spent the entire day walking back. By the time he returned to the town in which the Grandcypher was docked, it was nightfall. There was a restless air to the town, and he turned a corner just to run into Io and Rosetta. Relief washed over their faces, Io running over to Sandalphon and grabbing his hand. Her and Rosetta both fret over him a moment, commenting that he looked ragged, asking where he’s been, all while pulling him back towards the ship.

Knowing him, Orion was probably pulling his hair out with worry. The moment they stepped onto the deck, Lyria and Vyrn bound up to him, shouting his name in unison out of a mixture of relief and worry. Lyria continued on where Io and Rosetta left off, asking the same questions, unable to give any answers. It was when Orion appeared that Sandalphon seemed to begin to feel once more, the numbing veil over him being lifted.

The captain came from below deck, scrambling towards the group. Of course, Sandalphon couldn’t ignore the figure that followed after, though not in as big as a rush as the other. Orion’s hands were clumsy, unable to speak, his comfort gone under anxiety, but Sandalphon could make it out easy enough. He shook his head before bowing it slightly. “I am the one that should be apologizing. I ran off, was gone all day, and I didn’t explain anything before doing so.”

Rarely, would one find Sandalphon to be so meek. Slowly, everyone cleared away, the captain bidding them to do so, giving Sandalphon his space as they depart from the island. Orion’s apologies come, unending, as Sandalphon’s gaze wanders. Hands, frantic in their movement, pause as he traces where Sandalphon is looking, sight falling upon the stranger that’s standing back, away from the two. The slightest hint of worry is etched into his features; he shifts, preparing to leave, when a voice sounds over the wind of the night. “Sandalphon.”

The white-haired male looks at the other, eyes widening slightly. Sandalphon clears his throat, pushing down the sick feeling building up in his throat, and repeats himself with more clarity. “My name is Sandalphon.”

The words sink in, words of acceptance, and the man relaxes, offering some semblance of a smile. “Lucio.”

Lucio… the name dances around his mind, playing on his tongue, but he doesn’t speak it. Not yet.

“You must be quite the character to have been picked up by our Captain. Welcome to the crew. It certainly is a lively one.”

It was a curt dismissal, stating Sandalphon had nothing further to say and was retiring for the night. Lucio opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but Orion shushed him before he could, the supreme primarch walking past the two, heading to his quarters.

It’s a cold, dreamless night. He doesn’t wake early to make coffee. When he does wake, he spares little time for greetings, flying up one of the ship’s masts and sitting himself on one of the horizontal posts. Those that are friendly with him attempt communication, try to coax him down to talk. Try to bring him breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But he doesn’t budge, doesn’t even acknowledge them beside a blank stare and a shake of his head before gaze is set forward again.

He remains up there until sunset, after most have gone to bed. Even Orion, who appears to be the last to sleep and the first to rise, whenever he does sleep, has disappeared before Sandalphon comes down.

This repeats for a few days, Sandalphon hardly ever speaking to anyone, hardly eating much. Whatever he does eat tends to come back up over the side of the ship, where he thinks no one can see. But someone always does, never speaking up about it, never letting the supreme primarch know he’d been seen. He sends others away if they approach, a silent guardian, that disappears before Sandalphon can notice.

He hears footsteps approach as he touches back down onto the deck of the ship one night, Sandalphon cursing himself, not having been paying attention, thinking everyone had retreated for the night. Even Orion, whose sleeping habits are far from healthy, had retired earlier in the night, before most of the other crewmates. He turns, waiting for the inevitable greeting, eyes narrowed; stance giving way to exhaustion.

Lucio simply smiles at him, handing him a cup. “You were absent during all the meals today… there are still leftovers from dinner. Would you like some? I can prepare everything for you.”

An answer isn’t directly given. Sandalphon, as much as he hates admitting it, is starving. As though Lucio could tell what he was going to reply with, he leads the other down towards the kitchen; Sandalphon sits at a table in the mess hall while Lucio works on fixing up leftovers. He absently bringing the cup in his hands to his lips, nearly spitting the drink out, forcing it down his throat.

It’s coffee, that much can be told from just the scent. However, it is bitter, extremely so, and even Sandalphon’s tastes can just barely handle it. But, it leaves nostalgia on his tongue, and he finds himself drinking it regardless of bitter taste. He can only assume it’s decaffeinated, hoping Lucio has the sense to not give him something that would keep him awake this late into the night.

Soon enough, drink is finished, and Lucio brings out leftovers. It’s some kind of meat dish Vane had prepared, though Lucio doesn’t remember the name of it. Sandalphon doesn’t care much for what it’s called, however; he’s eaten Vane’s cooking on plenty of occasions, this alone telling him it’s good. Vane could make bread taste like the most saviory thing to exist and no one would question it. He just knew what he was doing in the kitchen.

Sandalphon ate in silence, grateful that Lucio wasn’t trying to start any conversations with him.

The other had mingled well with the crew members, despite not having been here long. Though most saw him as eccentric, someone with a few screws loose, they would be lying if they didn’t say they were drawn to him. In his observations, he often noticed Lucio speaking with various people, the conversations always lasting. Sandalphon wasn’t envious at all; he had good relations with those in the crew, and it’s not like he had a reason to envy Lucio’s apparent ease with fitting in.

As he finished eating what he could (a slight twinge of guilt settles in his stomach at the amount of food left on his plate when he’s finished), Lucio placed another cup in front of him, taking the plate and previously emptied cup to clean them. He takes hold of the cup, bringing it close to his face and taking a contemplative sniff. It smells… pleasant. An odd comfort; Sandalphon found his body relaxing in waves as he simply let the smell linger. Taking a sip, the drink tasted a bit sweet, but not unpleasant; a contrast to the beverage Lucio had prepared him before. His stomach, already on the verge of upset from how much he ate, calms, feeling like he can manage to keep everything down.

“I was going to prepare valerian tea for you, but I didn’t want to risk upsetting your stomach or giving you a headache, so I made chamomile instead… I hope it’s to your liking.”

Lucio’s voice breaks the silence, though Sandalphon doesn’t find himself startled like he normally would be. Perhaps it’s the effects of the tea, he guesses. He takes another sip, eyes closed, before placing the cup back down on the table, fingers absently rubbing against the outside. “It’s not bad. I’m not much of a tea fan, but I could get used to this.”

A smile is placed on the taller’s lips, Lucio taking a seat across from Sandalphon, his own cup of tea in his hands. The smell coming from his cup, however, is far more bitter. He had taken the time to prepare two different cups of tea, one that he felt would help Sandalphon keep his food down and assist with sleep; the other, his own, possibly just to enjoy some flavor.

Sandalphon can’t help but feel as though Lucio was treating him delicately, as though the other were walking on eggshells. But, at the same time, it’s not just that. Sure, he can tell Lucio is trying to be a comforting presence, giving the false pretense that Sandalphon can rely on him even though they only met for the first time a few short days ago. He almost wants to cave in, to simply let himself fall into a comfort that has the vague sense of familiarity, but this isn’t the garden. This comfort isn’t from someone he could trust with his mind and its overwhelming heaviness so easily.

This isn’t Lucifer.

Fingers brush against his own, and he jumps back to the moment, hands pulling away as though he were burned. Lucio’s own hand draws back, confused expression on his face, head tilting ever so slightly. “You told me you were done and that I could take your cup?”

Did he? Sandalphon couldn’t even remember.

Lucio leans in again, picking up the cup with an unneeded amount of grace, and he heads back into the kitchen. However, he stops himself, looking over his shoulder. “It is late. You should rest. When we dock at Valtz Duchy in a few days, Orion plans on breaking us up into groups to take on jobs on the island. He’s been forewarned by Seiro that there is a bit of a pest problem the locals need help with.”

Crimson stares a moment, as though lost in thought once more, before he nods. “Thanks.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I know you haven’t been eating much, and it’s important to keep up your strength.”

There’s someone else to his statement, kept unsaid, that they both hear. Sandalphon flushes, standing from the table with his head held low, averting eye contact as he retreats. That Lucio would see something so shameful, moments of weakness in his stress, infuriates him. Though, he can’t tell if he’s more angry or mortified, hence his quickened pace to his resting quarters.

Despite the earlier embarrassment, he finds himself quick to sleep, no dreams to torment him.

“Sandalphon, the clothes won’t dry if you hang them up overlapping like that. You need to space them out.”

“Where are they overlapping? I placed them all evenly apart!”

“No, no, over there. There are some shorts clipped to the back of that shirt.”

“What? I didn’t see those there- they must have already been stuck to the shirt.”

Orion watches the two as they bicker over laundry, taking down dry clothes and replacing them with wet ones. Laundry duty had been entrusted to Sandalphon, Lucio taking it upon himself to help after he scrubbed the deck.

Things began to seem okay again with the supreme primarch; somehow, Lucio slowly began coaxing him down from his perch atop the ship deck, bringing him down for meals. Sandalphon went back to preparing his morning coffee, sitting out on the deck. Orion slowly started to join him, when he woke early enough. If not him, it was Noa.

Sandalphon found the primal beast to be comforting. He was soft spoken, never really spoke all too much, and he listened. That was probably the biggest thing that led to Sandalphon trusting him so quickly.

Soon enough, perch was abandoned completely, and Sandalphon’s routine returned to how it was earlier; walks on islands, accompanying Orion and others, doing chores, running errands. It’s no exaggeration to say everyone was relieved; even those that weren’t too close or familiar with Sandalphon, those that had joined in with the crew while he was in the middle of dealing with grief for the second time, were glad to see him joining them for meals. Small banter. Companionship in place of the isolation Sandalphon found himself falling into time and time again. They would wait for him.

Orion smiles as he sees Sandalphon become flustered over Lucio finding more clothes clipped to one another, hands scrambling to grab the articles of clothing from the taller, who just smiles, threatening a laugh.

He turns away to return to his own task, stepping off the airship onto Albion soil, going to meet with Lyria, Vyrn, and Katalina in town for an errand run. Sandalphon throws a wet shirt at Lucio’s head, shouting about how infuriating he is. Lucio actually breaks into a laugh, then.

There’s the sound of a low, reluctant laughter that echoes his.

“You idiot! Why did you stand to my left- you knew the monster was attacking! I could have blocked!”

Sandalphon’s voice, in an angered, frantic panic, resounds over the chatter of wildlife. Monster corpses lay scattered on the ground, the supreme primarch crouched down on the ground in front of Lucio, who had been brought to his knees, wound deep on his side. Blood seeped out from between fingers, Lucio attempting to stop the flow.

He hears something tear, looking up to see Sandalphon tear a piece of white cloth from the garment around his waist, swatting his hands away pressing it more forcefully onto the wound. Lucio hisses, head tilting back, sweat on his brow even as he tries to smile. It just angers Sandalphon more. “What’s so amusing about this situation?” He presses more, Lucio tensing. He shakes his head, shaking hand trying to move Sandalphon’s away so he can continue to press himself.

Light eyes watch as Sandalphon tear another piece of cloth from his clothes, longer, winding it around another wound up Lucio’s leg, tying it tightly. Though it’s far less serious than the one on his abdomen, he’d rather cover it. Lucio speaks up, “don’t dirty your hands like this- I’m fine. We should return to the town and report to Orion.”

Watching him stand is painful, Sandalphon swallowing down any outward expression of worry. He’s unsteady on his feet, clearly limping  in pain, yet he brushes away any help from Sandalphon. Then he stumbles, feet staggering, and the only thing keeping him off the ground is Sandalphon’s arms around him, supporting him. “If you can’t walk, don’t force yourself!” Here-”

Sandalphon doesn’t let him argue as he guides Lucio onto his back. The taller’s arms wind around his shoulders, not daring to grasp too tightly. Sandalphon’s fingers dig into Lucio’s thighs as he stands, hiking him up further on his back, and then they’re walking. It’s a slow pace, and Sandalphon’s own body aches, but he keeps pressing on. Neither realized how long they’d been gone, or how late it had gotten; Orion had told everyone to meet up at the Knickknack Shack before sundown to turn in their missions and reports, yet the sky had started becoming dark, the last fading light of day being snuffed out. With the night came quiet, with the calming sound of wildlife song. He could see lights in the distance, the village coming back into view. Lucio’s head thumps against Sandalphon’s shoulder, resting there.

“You holding up okay?”

His voice is kept low, not wanting to disturb the night, but lack of an answer makes a heavy, sinking feeling settle in his stomach.

“Lucio, how is your wound?”

Head turns, looking over his shoulder. Lucio’s grip had become weak, Sandalphon not noticing beforehand, and the movement caused his arms to unwind, dangling limply over his shoulders. Feet stumble, pace slacking for a moment, before Sandalphon breaks into a run.

There is a sudden awareness regarding the person he is holding. The wet spot on his back that soaked through his clothes. The slippery warmth that’s threatening Sandalphon’s hold on Lucio’s thigh. The strong, foul scent that lifted around them, without a doubt alerting nearby monsters to easy prey. His eyes are still open, but the light within seems dull, unaware of surroundings; just barely willing himself to hold onto consciousness.

Lungs burn, out of breath, stench from the blood settled in the back of his throat. He’s yelling for Orion-anyone-the moment he breaks into the town; sure enough, the captain was about to set out with a smaller group to search for them, immediately yelling out different orders.

A draph-Vaseraga, Sandalphon thinks is his name, another new member to the group-lifts Lucio off of Sandalphon’s back. Orion’s back is to him, telling the draph to bring Lucio to the Knickknack Shack; Shao is there. He turns as he hears something hit the ground, finding Sandalphon collapsed on the ground, chest heaving, yet not necessarily breathing. Orion was at his side, sending the others in his group away, following back to the Knickknack Shack. Orders were given, no one was to come find Orion or Sandalphon; tell Lyria and Vyrn that both of them are fine.

Sandalphon is wheezing out breaths, gasping, and Orion is quietly speaking to him. Eyes squeeze shut, but all he can see is a horrible memory that he never wanted to recall this vividly. He can feel the weight of a head in his arms. He sees a body, wound on its side, fatal.

Orion is shoved away, and Sandalphon vomits onto the ground in front of him. It’s nothing but bile, dry heaving following after. Arms wind around himself, the cramping in his stomach lessening after the relief, and he tunes in to hear Orion speaking, once again at his side. He can breathe easier, until fatigue catches up to him, adrenaline gone, and he slumps against Orion.

He vaguely recalls being lifted.

Lucio awakens a day later, on his feet again like nothing happened. He walks out onto the deck of the Grandcypher, ship still docked at Auguste, searching. Rackham is shouting orders to others, the ship preparing to leave. Lyria, who was doing an inventory check with Katalina, spots Lucio and rushes over to him.

“Lucio! You should be laying down! Orion said not to let you walk around!”

He simply smiles, waving a hand. “I’m fine, there’s no need to worry about me. Where is Sandalphon? He was injured as well, was he not? I didn’t see him in the infirmary.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, instead opting to shift on her feed, hands grabbing the hem of her dress.

Lucio isn’t sure if it’s from the injuries he’d had, but he feels an ache settle deep in him.

“Sandalphon decided to take a temporary leave from the crew. He’s going to be staying on the island and helping Siero, taking on jobs...” Her voice trails off, but as she looks up at Lucio’s face, she becomes frantic once again. “B-but it’s only temporary! He said he would come back after some time! And we could always call on him if we need him, but only in emergencies!”

Lucio didn’t really know what kind of expression he was making, but Lyria was trying to comfort him, regardless.

He turns on his heel, feet carrying him, pulling him to leave the ship, but he stops as he comes face-to-face with Orion. The expression on his face reads grim a moment before he scowls.

“Captain-”

“You should be in bed.” His voice is stern.

“What about-”

“You’re still recovering.” He’s not leaving room for argument. He knows what Lucio is trying to say.

This wasn’t his decision, either.

Lucio opens his mouth to protest again, but his voice is cut off by the sound of the Grandcypher’s engines coming to life. The ship lurches, and they’re departing. He pushes past Orion, who continues looking forward, as he scrambles to the edge of the ship. Hands take hold of the railing, hair is thrashed around as he scans over the port.

Standing beside a small harvin, Siero, who is waving in farewell, is Sandalphon.

Lucio could just barely make out the furrow of his brows. The blank stare, fingers digging into arms as they lay crossed over his chest. Their gazes meet, holding for a moment, before Sandalphon turns away, walking from the port, back towards the Knickknack Shack, Lucio assumes.

He stays there long after the island is out of view, nothing but a small spec in the sky, as they continue on their path towards Golonzo.

Eventually, Orion approaches, standing beside him, looking out.

They are silent.

“Did he know I was okay?”

Orion nods.

“Did he make the decision to leave?”

Orion nods once again.

“When is he coming back?”

Orion stills, but Lucio knew that was going to be the response.

Their conversation leaves off there, Lucio returning to his room to rest, as he was instructed earlier. He passes by Sandalphon’s room, lingering at the door a moment. There’s a pull, causing him to reach for the handle. It turns, door unlocked, and Lucio finds himself standing in the room, door closed behind him, leaving surroundings dark. He pulls curtains back from the small window in the room, sunlight pouring in.

The room itself was in disarray, things scattered all over. The chair to the small desk in the room had been knocked over onto its side, tossed across the room. Books were haphazardly opened and displaced all over the room, on the floor, hanging off of shelves, on his bed. The bed itself wasn’t made, sheets half dragged off the bed, pillow torn open, scattering cotton all over. Lucio has only ever seen the room in a clean condition, Sandalphon being one of the tidier crew members.

This is not his place. He knows that, if Sandalphon were here, he’d chase him out immediately. He feels a twinge of guilt as he steps further in, grabbing the displaced chair, and sets it right, pushing it back under the desk. Fingers are delicate with belongings, picking up books, checking for damaged pages, before returning them to the shelves they belong on. He doesn’t know how they were previously organized, simply putting them away alphabetically by title.

He then turns to the bed, stripping the sheets for laundry. Pillow will have to be tossed out, replaced with another- Lucio has spares in his room. He can just take one.

He steps back into the hall as Noa is passing, offering to take the sheets from him for washing. Lucio thanks him before heading further down the hall, finally stepping into his room.

Pillow is picked up, prolonging his rest further to go bring it to Sandalphon’s room.

A storm jar has caught up with the airship, Rackham doing everything in his power to keep the ship steady and out of the thick of it, Noa at his side telling him how the Grandcypher is holding up. Lightning streaks across the sky, dangerously close to the ship. Last time they were caught in one they were blessed with luck, Tiamat showing up to get them out of the pinch situation. However, no such luck was with them.

Of course, the Grandcypher can be pushed so far, even with Noa there. It only makes things worse when Otherworld Harpies show up. There’s only so much anyone can do from the deck, especially against foes as strong as these that excel in the sky.

Orion asks Lyria if she can summon a primal- call for any kind of help, but she struggles, unable to locate a being that can help.

Lightning strikes the side of the ship, causing it to cant to the side. Orion shouts, telling those above deck to hold on to something while the ship rights itself. They just barely hear Rackham shout Noa’s name over the sound of the storm, Orion looking over to see the primal stumbling, fighting with a harpy that got in close when no one was paying attention, trying to protect Rackham, only to be knocked over the side of the ship.

Before he can react, however, Lucio does. He releases the railing he was holding on to, letting the tilting of the ship carry him over the side. He reaches out for Noa, grabbing hold of his arm. Noa clings back, as though his life depends on it, closing his eyes as a bright light envelops the two.

As soon as the ship is righted, Orion rushes over to the side where Noa and Lucio went overboard. Before he reaches it, however, a gust of wind rushes up the side, trailing behind a light that lands on the deck. As the light dulls, six white wings are revealed, unraveling to reveal Lucio, who had set Noa down on the deck of the ship.

Turning his head to look at the otherworld threat, Lucio places the hand on the hilt of his sword and leaps off the deck, heading into the storm.

“Orion!” Lyria shouts to him over the winds, coming out from below deck. “I feel something coming! It’s distant, but it’s definitely a primal!”

Orion nods at her before turning his attention back to the sky. Lightning flashes and the spark of a blade hitting against armor from the beasts is the only way Orion can keep up with the fighting. He can see it’s a three against one fight. The fourth harpy found its way to the ship, Noa fighting it alongside Rosetta and Eugene. Io had been given orders to stay below deck, and she did, taking Lyria and Vyrn with her.

He can only hope the primal beast coming to help is actually coming to help and isn’t being attracted by the malicious intention surrounding the otherworldly beasts. Lucio has his hands full as it is.

There is a loud screech, followed by metal grinding against metal, and Lucio emerges from dark pillars of clouds, a harpy digging its claws into his back, restricting his wings’ movement. The other two dive towards him, tearing into him. His swords are knocked out of his hands, flipping through the air, one stabbing into the ship, the other bouncing off, falling into the abyss below.

In a last ditch effort to shake them, Lucio extends out his hand above him, an orb of light swirling violently in his palm before he shouts. The words are lost to Orion’s ears, drowned out by the wind, but the storm becomes disrupted, pillars of light shooting out, becoming too bright to look at. Everyone has to turn away, doing so instinctively, as the sound of the storm becomes violent sounds of inhuman screeching, agonized.

Soon, the light subsides, leaving nothing but lightning and the familiar dark of the storm. The three harpies fall, dropping to the bottom of the sky, defeated. Orion watches them, hopeful feeling in his chest, until another flash of light from above, brief and weak, catches his eye. He feels nothing but dread as he sees the wings behind Lucio vanish, the prop wings adorning his costume torn to shreds, falling away from his body as he begins a headfirst descent.

“Lucio!”

Orion’s voice rings out, the captain standing at the side of the ship, holding his arm out. Lucio’s limbs feel heavy, his body twisting and turning in the air without control. An arm is held out, but he knows it’s too far. Despite the hope, Orion leaning over the side of the ship as far as he could, Lucio is still too far out of reach. The last harpy that the crew was dealing with, that Orion had forgotten about, attacked him, pulling his attention back to the fight.

Sandalphon’s wings carried him as fast as they could, heading towards the pull that called to him; a desperate plea for help, one of familiarity. Normal airships wouldn’t have been able to cross this distance, Sandalphon’s brown wings still too slow. To call upon the primarch’s power for such a meager reason would have gotten him scowled at were the other archangels here.

But they’re not, and Sandalphon is desperate to reach the call in time.

In the distance, he sees beams of light, striking a familiar chord in his heart, and a voice is carried on the wind. Sudden turbulence kicks up, throwing Sandalphon off his balance, but he presses on.

The Grandcypher comes into view, and with it the battle on the deck. Orion had been backed against a mast, holding a beast away at arm’s length with his sword. Sandalphon dives, sword held out, and he pierces right through the unaware beast. It writhes on the ground violently, in pain, as Sandalphon’s sword presses more, twisting, and finally he pulls, yanking the sword through the otherworld beast.

Before he can get a word in, questioning, Orion shoves past him to the side of the ship, looking overboard. Sandalphon’s blood runs cold.

“Lucio- Lucio fell-”

Sandalphon dives over the side before he can say more.

How long had he been falling for? How did he not see him when he was approaching the ship? Was he the cause of the light he saw?

Questions are pushed back as he frantically falls, searching, searching, searching.

Praying.

“Lucio!”

He doubts he can be heard over the wind, yet he calls out anyway, desperation seeping into his voice. He can’t hear over the thundering of his heart in his ears, but faintly, ever so faintly, there is a flicker of a light to his left, and he course corrects, wings frantically beating as he blindly flies through storm clouds.

Sandalphon crashes into Lucio’s body, arms wrapping around him, and he stops their descent. Lucio’s body is limp in his arms, Sandalphon pressing his face into one of his shoulders as wings beat, keeping them suspended there. He clings, shakes, pressing down the familiar feelings of dread that memories are digging up. Sandalphon remains frozen until a hand ghosts over his side, touching in what is supposed to be a comforting manner. Sandalphon pulls his head back to see Lucio’s face.

Covered in blood and grime, hair matted and stained, eyes twinkle with the faintest hint of a smile. Sandalphon’s heart eases.

He begins flying back up to the ship, which had drifted from where they fell, though out of the storm. The winds were warm, the sky a calm blue, with white, fluffy clouds. Lucio’s head was nestled safely against Sandalphon’s neck, where the primarch cradled it as he flew.

There isn’t an immediate rush to get back to the ship, not wanting to disturb Lucio, cause him any further pain. Despite the injuries scattered across Lucio’s body and the very apparent lack of energy, Sandalphon feels oddly calm.

“... You called my name.”

Sandalphon keeps his gaze upward towards the ship. Faintly, he hears Lyria shouting, and soon enough she comes into view, pointing down at him and Lucio, Orion and others at her side.

“How else was I supposed to find you before you fell out of the sky?”

Sandalphon is aware of how he would regard Lucio. He never said he name, at least when speaking directly to the taller. Rather, he would simply point, or call out a curt ‘you’. Thinking about it, it was a ridiculous thing he did; childish, some might even call it. He can’t keep holding on to pain forever, after all.

“Thank you.”

Neither know why Lucio is thanking him, but the words are said, and it settles over the both of them warmly. A deeper meaning could be found, but Sandalphon doesn’t feel like thinking.

Why chase down a feeling and put a name to it when it’s only just being discovered in a new light?

It feels odd, not having any sort of job while on the island. No beasts to slay, no errands to run, and no chores to do. Orion had one order for everyone, and it was to just relax and enjoy themselves for the next few days.

After all, the Auguste Isles were perfect for that sort of thing.

Sandalphon, dressed casually in light pants that are rolled up at the calf, a plain white t-shirt tucked into pants, and shoes a simple black heel that’s tied at the ankle. He feels severely underdressed, not used to not having to wear armor at every given moment. A braided leather bracelet is on his wrist, and sunglasses rest atop his head.

Currently sitting out of the sun, hidden away in the shade of an open bar with a straw roof. Perfect for a beach setting, it settled in almost naturally. His eyes roamed as he leaned on the table in front of him, arms crossed loosely. He saw Lyria, Vyrn, and Orion on the beach. Joining them were the dragon knights-Seigfried, Vane, Lancelot, and Percival; Katalina, who was watching after Lyria with Vira at her side; Ayer and Jamil, who stood some way away in the shade of trees, talking.

Of course, there were others scattered about as well- even though that hadn’t been with the crew at the moment seemed to gather here by chance, enjoying a vacation of their own while the time allowed it.

It was like a big family gathering, and Orion was ecstatic.

He tears his gaze away as Siegfried approaches Orion, instead opting to watch Lyria make a sandcastle with Vyrn, Vane, Lancelot, and a few others. He spots Ilsa and Korwa setting up a net and makeshift court, soon to scout for teams to join in on a game of volleyball, no doubt. Maybe Sandalphon will partake…

“You look like you’re thinking far too much for someone that should be relaxing.”

Head turns, seeing a familiar figure standing over him. Dressed in white, low-rise shoes, dark pants that stop just over his ankles, and a light blue shirt with white stripes, Lucio looks like he’s adjusting to his order of relaxation quite easily. Sandalphon gestures to the chair on the opposite end of the table he’s sitting on, an unspoken permission. “Less thinking, more just observing.”

Lucio takes the offered seat, though he’s standing once more and vanishing into the crowd shortly after. Sandalphon’s eyes go back to combing the beach, chin resting on his palm. He returns shortly, two drinks in hand, one of which he sets down in front of Sandalphon. The cup was short and rounded, crafted delicately from glass with swirls carved into the design. The drink contained inside was a familiar, light brown, with dark brown swirls coating the inside of the glass. On top was whipped cream and nuts coated in more chocolate and caramel syrup. A white and blue swirled straw stuck out from the drink. Possibly the most extravagant and extra iced-coffee Sandalphon had seen, yet he’s curious enough to feel a slight twinge of amusement.

Sandalphon can’t help but notice Lucio’s own drink was far more mild; the same glass, yet in it was only lemonade, with a piece of lemon pierced by the lip of the cup, along with a small, pink umbrella.

Taking the straw between his lips, he gives an experimental taste. The look of approval must have been written clearly on his face, because Lucio huffs out a laugh, bringing his own cup to his lips.

There is a brush of an ankle against Sandalphon’s own, and he presses back, eyes wandering over the beach once again.

He doesn’t notice Lucio staring. Doesn’t see the way he leans in, elbow on the table, knuckles pressed against his cheek. Staring in admiration, taking in the scene of Sandalphon with a rare, calm atmosphere. Though, he disrupts it, speaking up. “There’s supposed to be a firework festival tonight. Orion and Siegfried are going to be taking the younger skyfarers, though I’m sure others are going as well.”

Sandalphon dips his finger into some of the whipped cream on his drink, bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. “He mentioned it earlier. I didn’t really plan on going with everyone.”

Once again, something unspoken is understood by Lucio, and a smile plays on his lips. “Well, if you were planning on watching by yourself, maybe you wouldn’t mind if I accompanied you?”

An immediate answer isn’t given, Sandalphon simply picking a nut off the top and putting it into his mouth, chewing in a contemplative manner, before swirling the drink around with his straw. “I’m not against it. That aside, have you tried this drink yourself? It’s not bad- here.”

He slides it across the table to Lucio, who accepts it. He closes his eyes as he takes a sip, smile playing on his lips, humming in approval. Sandalphon averts his gaze, once again, to the beach as Lucio tries the drink.

His eyes catch Lancelot and Vane sneaking away, Vane pulling Lancelot by the hand. Rackham and Noa have been off on their own in the ocean, Rackham showing Noa how to swim. Trying to, at least. He heard a tune begin to play, soft and light, and turned to see Elta in the shade of some trees, playing and attracting a crowd.

Lyria catches him looking and waves. He waves back.

They spend the rest of the day mostly sitting and chatting, though it’s also spent in town, walking around and seeing what the shops have to offer. Sandalphon pulled Lucio to a stand, looking over a selection of accessories. Lucio leaves with a new bracelet on his wrist, braided like Sandalphon’s, though sporting a small tassel accompanied by a small, carved wooden pendant with a simple wing design. Lucio thanks him for the gift, and Sandalphon brushes it off, saying it’s in return for the drink Lucio got him earlier.

As night fell, the crew members and familiar skyfarers gathered on the beach and at the edge of town. Most traveled in big groups, all joining together, but some stayed broken off in smaller pairs. Sandalphon’s heels were in hand as he stepped onto the sand. Lucio’s own shoes were put aside somewhere safe, unconcerned for the possibility of them being lost.

The part of the beach they walked along was far off from the crowds, only handfuls of people deciding to take a back-row seat for the fireworks show, staying far from the main area of festivities. Lancelot and Vane had been whispering about this place, still a good view for the show, yet more secluded and not many go there.

Among the onlookers, Sandalphon could pick out a few familiar faces.

Seruel and Naoise were huddled together on a blanket on the sand, not really paying attention to much other than one another. Jamil and Ayer, once again, staying side by side, having climbed up onto a low, curved palm tree and using it as a makeshift seat as the two leaned on one another. Sandalphon didn’t necessarily see Drang and Sturm, but he heard Drang yelling the draph’s name from somewhere further down the beach, Sturm probably poking into the erune’s side with her sword. Ilsa and Korwa are seen for the second time that night, the two talking about something in hushed whispers and close proximity.

They walked in silence, listening only to the wind, the ocean, and the faint whispers of conversation. The sounds from the main event area are faint, music resounding over cheers and talking. Sandalphon strays from Lucio’s side, heading to the shoreline, feet lapped at by the waves. Lucio silently joins him, and the two look out over the ocean towards the small island where the fireworks are being set up. Sandalphon thinks he sees a dark figure rowing on a small boat towards the island, but it’s too dark to tell.

The silence is comfortable. But Sandalphon isn’t seeking that kind of comfort. Right now, as emotions settle and mind races, he seeks a different solace. One that he never thought he could have again.

“... When we first met,” he starts, prompting Lucio to look over at him, “I didn’t like you. You infuriated me, with how you acted. How you “wore“ Lucifer’s face.” Hands don’t raise, but Lucio can see the air quotes regardless. “I especially hated how, despite us not being close, you still watched out for me. When I didn’t eat, you made me something. When I’d sat in silence for too long, you always forced your way to me, talking with me even if I didn’t respond.”

Sandalphon always tried to turn a blind eye to Lucio’s help. Even with chores, when Lucio would finish his early, instead of taking time to himself he always found his way to Sandalphon. Even if it was something as small as sweeping the deck, Lucio would show up, broom in hand, and help on a different end, but never too far from Sandalphon.

Crimson gaze never looks anywhere but forward, but he can still see the smile on Lucio’s features. The taller turns his head away, looking forward once again. “I see.”

Silence envelops them once more, but Sandalphon isn’t done. Yet, he doesn’t know what else to say, leaving it on an awkward note. He opens his mouth, leaving it hanging open, but unable to speak.

“This ‘Lucifer’ is a lucky man, to have someone like you loyal to him.”

Caught off guard, the supreme primarch turns his head, eyes meeting with Lucio’s own. Yet, there’s no malicious intention in his words, only a soft fondness, lips curved up in the faintest of smile. Sandalphon’s eyes are wide, brows furrowed, before his eyes are downcast, looking at the space between them.

“... I think I was the lucky one, having been able to be with him for the time he was here. But I took it for granted, and now I’m picking up the pieces he left.” He snorts, looking back out over the ocean. “There’s a lot. They’re getting heavier and heavier with each passing day.”

Now it’s Lucio’s turn to be surprised- of course, he knows. He knows all about Lucifer, who exactly he is, what became of him. He knew who Sandalphon was long before they were introduced. But he doesn’t know the extent of the relationship the two shared. He doesn’t know the pain and grief Sandalphon is going through, and he might never know.

But he finds himself wanting to understand.

“You’re not Lucifer.”

A statement, confirmation, as though Sandalphon were putting to rest old demons, as well as any suspicions Lucio had.

But he never had any.

Before the conversation can continue, a streak of light followed by a shrill noise shoots into the air, before flashing into brilliant color spanning across the stars. Sandalphon stares in wonder, like a child, and Lucio watches as the colors dance across his face, the lights and shapes making his eyes dance. He finally pulls his gaze away, watching the light show.

Subtly, he shuffles closer to Sandalphon, their shoulders almost brushing. The smaller doesn’t do anything to move away, simply allowing the moment to happen. The back of hands brush, Lucio leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Let me help you hold the pieces.”

Voice just barely heard over the sound of fireworks, Lucio pulls back, smiling at Sandalphon as he looks up at Lucio, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, searching for any sign of lies. Of teasing. A reason to build his walls up, and continue to guard himself further.

But he only finds warmth. Sincerity. He can’t put a wall up in front of Lucio, even if he wanted it.

Mouth closes into a thin line, teeth digging into bottom lip as he looks away. Lucio, perhaps, was too bold in saying such a thing. He understands this, yet held the slightest bit of hope. As he turns to shift away, standing where he was before, fingers brush against his own, a pinkie curling around his own. Such a feeble thing could easily be brushed away, yet it anchored Lucio there. Weight shifts again, planting the taller there.

“I… wouldn’t mind that.”

Lucio decides to push it a bit further, fingers shifting, palm sliding against palm, as hands hold to one another. The action flusters Sandalphon further, but he still makes no move to pull away. No disdain, only a push to accept and grow used to this.

But Lucio won’t rush him. They can take it slowly.

As the last of the fireworks die down and the beach is enveloped in darkness again, the two make their way back to where Lucio’s shoes were left, hands still clasped together. They break apart so they both can put their shoes back on, Sandalphon’s heels making him appear taller, yet still shorter than Lucio.

A sudden fanfare down the road catches their attention.

Leave it to Elta to gather attention, along with other musicians. Road was blocked by performers, dancers leaving little room for walking, yet no one seemed to mind. There were kids clumsily jumping along, friends laughing over the other stumbling, lovers held close, and even some elders joining in. It was a sight, with familiar faces scattered about. Sandalphon wants to question who jumped in first when he sees Orion and Siegfried in the dancing crowd, but he doesn’t have the time as he’s knocked from the back, suddenly thrown into the crowd of dancers and tugged along by whoever grabbed his wrist.

He isn’t familiar with the dance, of course, so he’s clumsy. His feet move, unsure, and those around him lead him. Lyria pulls him over to her, simply spinning in a circle with him. Io joins in, leaving Sandalphon to join his next partner, Vane, who grabs hold of him and actually forces Sandalphon’s body to move in an overly energetic manner. He’s saved as Lancelot stumbles over, Vane deciding dancing with him is more fun. He still hears the laughter as he trips forward, caught by Rosetta, who lifts him back to his feet all while twirling him, and then sending him on his way.

Sandalphon bumps into a chest, arms winding around him, and suddenly he’s thrown into another dance. The laughter coming from above is comforting and light. He takes a moment to take hold of Lucio’s hands, uprighting himself, only to be forced into moving again. The way Lucio smiles at him is brilliant, almost blinding, and Sandalphon can’t help but return it, eyes light.

His laughter resounds over the music, both him and Lucio dancing; Lucio elegant, Sandalphon just a clumsy mess of missteps and stumbling. Yet he never falls, sure hands keeping him upright, leading the way. Lucio holds him close, twirls him, dips him, and Sandalphon just can’t stop laughing and smiling. Like everything he’s kept suppressed, all the bad that had overtaken his life, overstayed its welcome, was washed away by Lucio’s light. As though his hands take away all the bad, leaving only warmth.

They break from the crowd, breathless and light, Sandalphon holding tightly to Lucio’s hand. They both stumble, Sandalphon’s back hitting against a tree, Lucio bracing his arms on either side of his head. They breath, laugh, Lucio’s forehead gently knocking against Sandalphon’s own. Sandalphon looks up, their noses brushing, his eyes curved in a smile.

Sandalphon reaches up, and lips meet, though it is brief, a gentle declaration. Wordless, as it will be for a while, but they both understand.

Grief had many forms. It took patience for it to settle and disperse. It comes back when you least expect it to, and it overstays its welcome. It was always just something that would be part of you, never going away. You learn to live with it.

With Lucio by his side, Sandalphon feels it is manageable.