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Learning to read and write the human language has been much more difficult than learning how to speak, but Mikleo is nothing if not determined—especially with Sorey at his side each step of the way. The older seraphim are patient through all of their blunders and lend an ear to each and every question, no matter how small; soon the two of them are blazing through their stockpile of books cover to cover as though they had always known how to read. Page by page, the books become worn and well-loved and the seraphim search for new ones to sate their growing curiosity. The piles in Sorey's house soon tower over them when they sit to read together, each book an adventure that lets them leave the quiet hillside of Elysia for a brief moment of time.
Some days, they became so wrapped up in their adventures that Mikleo would wake in the pale light of morning with his head on the floor and Sorey's arms wrapped loosely around him, slumbering without a care in the world. The hard wooden floor isn't so bad with Sorey serving as a makeshift blanket, and Mikleo easily drifts back to sleep at the sound of his slow, even breathing.
Eventually their adventures move outside the pages of a book as they discover more facets of the countryside. Gramps has warned them about the dangers of ruins—the decaying floors, the bottomless pits, the maze-like passages—but they'll be fine. They have the wisdom of countless books and each other to keep themselves safe.
Books don't do the ruins justice. From their first step inside, Mikleo's breath is stolen right from his lungs, the silence ringing so loud in his ears that goosebumps rise on his skin. Mikleo feels around for Sorey's hand to hold tight.
"You're not scared, are ya?" Sorey asks, flashing Mikleo a grin so bright that he has trouble looking anywhere else.
"O-of course not," Mikleo insists. "It's dangerous, so we gotta stay close."
"Don't worry, we'll be fine!"
Even so, Sorey's grip never strays from Mikleo's hand as he leads them into the vast, open chamber, their footsteps echoing for eternity in the vaulted stone ceilings. By the time their hands are forced apart to explore deeper into the ruins, Mikleo has adjusted to the new, unfamiliar setting—though he never strays more than an arm's length away from Sorey and the light of his lantern.
They take breaks to log their findings in Sorey's journal, his writing so rushed that it's hard for Mikleo to read sometimes. He slows down a little when it comes to his drawings, and Mikleo watches in awe as the graphite comes to life on the page, rendered so skillfully that Mikleo wonders if it's just a normal thing for humans.
When they finally emerge from the ruins into the blinding sunlight, Mikleo's legs wobble like jelly and their clothes are covered in dirt. But it's worth it for all the new memories they've made. Mikleo cleans them up so that it looks like they've just been on a romp through the woods and lets himself be carried back home by the hand, his laughter chasing Sorey's as the wind cards through their hair.
Growing up does not stem the flow of reading one bit; if anything, it only fuels their hunger for knowledge and learning about the outside world. The Celestial Record becomes Sorey's most beloved possession and never leaves his side, whether eating or sleeping or gallivanting around ruins. It speaks of a world where seraphim and humans coexist in peace, a world that resonates particularly well with Sorey. No wonder he's so enamored with it.
Sorey's sleeping habits remain unchanged throughout the years as well. Mikleo still finds his lights on late into the evening, and a peek inside reveals Sorey curled up by his piles of books. With a sigh, Mikleo lets himself in and snatches a blanket from Sorey's bed to drape over him. He gently pulls the Celestial Record from Sorey's hand and bookmarks his spot for tomorrow. In the meantime, Mikleo takes a seat behind Sorey and settles against his back to flip through the Record himself, soon finding himself lost in the pages until he sinks to the floor alongside Sorey.
Somehow Mikleo wakes up huddled beneath the blanket with Sorey serving as a familiar weight against his back. Whether he had crawled beneath it in his sleep or Sorey had thrown it over him, Mikleo can't say, but he's not about to complain. Mikleo watches the morning light as it leaks through the windows and slowly travels a path along the walls, wondering when his heart started pounding so loudly in his ears whenever they so much as brushed shoulders. So loud that it overpowers Sorey's quiet, familiar breathing, so erratic that he can't give in to the siren call of sleep.
There are worse fates to succumb to, Mikleo supposes, and he curls up against Sorey to try and focus on the rhythm of each breath.
The shepherd's journey provides far fewer chances to get lost in a book, but life still finds a way.
On the nights where sleep won't come, Mikleo finds an empty bed where Sorey should be tucked under the covers; he's fairly easy to track down, and as expected, his nose is buried in the pages of the Celestial Record. Always shocked to see Mikleo pulling up a chair beside him, always fixing him with a relieved smile when he realizes he's in familiar company.
"I'm amazed the cover hasn't fallen off yet," Mikleo laughs.
"Uh, well." Sorey bookmarks his page with a finger and looks over the weathered spine. "It's seen better days, that's for sure."
"Just shows how much you love it."
"Hey, you've read it at least a dozen times."
"A drop in the bucket compared to you."
A fond smile reserved only for Mikleo spreads across Sorey's face and he sets the book down on the table, sliding it over to Mikleo without once breaking eye contact. The dim lighting of the inn coats the curve of Sorey's face with warm honey-golds, and for a moment, Mikleo wonders if he had actually tumbled into a dream. Mikleo blinks away the stars in his eyes and his fingertips brush over the cover of the book, his lips pulling up at the familiar sensation. The weight of the world lifts off their shoulders for just a few hours as they get lost in memories and the sound of quiet laughter drifting between them.
Dream world or not, Mikleo wishes they could stay in this moment forever—sharing a quiet joy that built upon a lifetime of cherished memories.
Loneliness is not a foreign concept for seraphim, especially those entangled with the human world.
The years pass by in days; the landscape grows and decays in the blink of an eye. But there are always books, always remnants of the times long past, always reminders of the life Mikleo once led. The Celestial Record sees more use than ever when the void at Mikleo's side opens up, even if the information within is old and dated. But alongside the old, the new sees the light as well, with Mikleo carrying out Sorey's wishes to catalog the world as it is in the hopes that someday, the void at his side would be whole once more.
Seeing the world and growing alongside it provides Mikleo with new insights, new revelations that burn on the tip of his tongue. It's not as easy to share them with seraphim, to open his heart and mind to others, but he's learning as time marches on.
He only wishes Sorey could be at his side to watch his growth firsthand rather than discover it eons later through a mountain of journals. But then again, that may be the most Sorey-like way to uncover it.
At times, Mikleo finds himself drifting to Elysia to sit on the hillside and watch the wind ripple through the grass, quiet and peaceful like the world in his memories. He's lost track of the amount of times he's knocked on Sorey's door out of some naive hope that it would prop open from the other side.
His heart thunders in his chest the day it swings open and pauses in excruciating silence as he waits for Sorey's head to poke through the gap. When it drifts closed again his heart sinks with it, realizing that the hinges and bolt have become so worn from age that they struggle to hold the door shut any longer. With a deep breath, Mikleo pushes the door open and takes a step into his memories.
It's dark and stuffy from the years—centuries?—of vacancy, lit only by the sunlight that peeks through the windows. But everything remains undisturbed and exactly as they had left it so long go—even the piles of books remain untoppled, sleeping for all this time. It almost feels rude to disturb them. He whispers a quiet word of gratitude before he continues his journey through immortalized time.
In the dim lighting of Sorey's house, Mikleo stumbles upon a pile of feathers on one of his shelves. How they hadn't faded to dust is beyond Mikleo's comprehension, but he's grateful for the memento and reaches for one with visions of Sorey's face wreathed in golden feathers ghosting his mind. They must have been his failed attempts at earrings, or perhaps spares in case disaster befell the ones he wore. To Mikleo's relief, the feather remains in one piece as he gingerly plucks it from the pile and holds it to his heart.
Somehow, through all the years, he could still conjure up memories of one left behind in time—though the memories are far more fuzzy than Mikleo would like. And who’s to say that the passage of time couldn't sweep all of it away?
Before he loses himself to the cruel flow of time, Mikleo clips the feather onto his belt as a reminder of the days long past and the love that once fluttered in his chest like a bird taking flight.
When he returns to the front door, Mikleo sweeps his gaze over the slumbering memories one last time and soaks in the heaviness weighing down his chest, proof that he knew the significance of this moment—of saying farewell.
The warmth of the sunlight welcomes him back to the real world and he takes a step into the future waiting beyond.
The passing of time is not always cruel; it also brings more ruins to discover, more sights to behold and capture in journals. If anything, Mikleo finds his curiosity more active as the years pass by, always searching for something new to uncover. Mikleo has long grown used to the void at his side, but he still finds himself wishing he could share even one kernel of knowledge with Sorey. It's a bittersweet existence, but at least the old memories haven't been washed away in favor of new ones.
Mikleo's footsteps echo in the high ceilings of an unfamiliar ruin, but the sensations they stir are close to his heart. If he closes his eyes, Mikleo swears he can feel his hand being squeezed, swears he can hear a voice asking if he's afraid.
"Of course not," Mikleo murmurs into the vast emptiness, smiling despite himself. "I'm just excited."
The flow of water accompanies Mikleo into the ruin, through twists and turns until he emerges in a beautifully sculpted room with sunlight pouring in from the ceiling. Crystals embedded in the walls refract light into the pools of water where it glitters like precious jewels. Mikleo finds himself drawn to the column of sunlight like a moth to the flame, breaking away from it occasionally to take in the architecture left behind from ancient times. For its age, the ruin seems relatively undisturbed. He pauses in the center of the room to gaze at the ceiling where intricate reliefs are carved into the stone; the light is so piercing that he's forced to shade his eyes in order to make anything out.
Mikleo’s fist tightens with a forlorn smile and he can practically hear Sorey's voice chime in with commentary. He gently returns to earth and presses forward to the monument erected before him, finding a blue gem embedded within that gleams from the cold light. Carefully Mikleo rests his hand over the gemstone, and for a moment, only the quiet trickle of water reaches his ears.
The ground shifts beneath his feet and Mikleo feels his stomach drop.
In the blink of an eye, the floor gives away and he tumbles helplessly into the chasm that opens up, his heart in his throat from the sensation of freefalling—only to be snatched by his hand and left dangling in the endless void. He gazes into the blinding light to catch sight of his savior, but all he can make out is a shadow of a figure that's rough around the edges.
The gloved hand curled around his own speaks more volumes than words ever could. Crimson beads twinkle in the light and dispel all the weight in Mikleo's chest until it feels like he's floating rather than dangling by a precarious thread. With a smile that he feels all the way in his eyes, Mikleo carefully takes hold of the hand with his free one and lets himself be hoisted out of the pit.
Both Mikleo and his savior collapse to the ground in a breathless heap. Mikleo pillows his head on a familiar white and blue mantle, feels the body beneath him tremble with a familiar peal of laughter that has Mikleo clinging to the blue shirt beneath the cloak. Slowly, carefully, Mikleo pushes himself away to get a proper look at the other explorer.
Hazel green eyes gaze up at Mikleo beneath a layer of pale blond bangs, eyes that twinkle with a joy he hasn't come across in centuries. He spots a pair of feathers peeking out from the blond hair that pools on the stone floor and reaches out to ensure his mind isn't playing tricks on him. He carefully fans out the golden barbs with his gloved fingers and breathes a sigh of relief when they don't pass through his hand.
As he pulls back, Mikleo runs his thumb over the seraph's cheek that soon pulls up from a smile gracing his lips.
"I'm back," the seraph says. "Sorry I took so long."
"You idiot," Mikleo laughs, his heart swelling from the familiar timbre of Sorey's voice.
As Mikleo surges forward to wrap Sorey in a hug, a laugh tickles his ears, one that burns his eyes and his cheeks until he can't hold back the centuries-old floodgate any longer. Sorey holds him there as Mikleo's body is wracked by joy, by relief, by the pain and the fear of never again seeing the one he held dear. Time feels stretched out and distorted as they lie in one another's arms, neither of them wanting to move lest it all be an illusion that would shatter at the single twitch of a muscle.
Eventually, Sorey gives Mikleo's back a gentle pat and Mikleo finally retreats from the crook of his neck.
"Welcome back," Mikleo says, his voice stuffy and raw from the onslaught of emotions. "How did you know where to find me?'
Sorey pushes himself into a sit and Mikleo follows suit, though his hand lingers around Sorey's waist, still trying to convince himself that Sorey isn't a specter brought about by years of yearning.
"I figured I'd come across you if I explored enough ruins," Sorey explains.
"And what if we never ran into each other?" Mikleo sighs.
"Well, we did! And that's what matters!"
Mikleo stifles a laugh behind his hand, but it soon bursts forth from and he throws his head back to let the mirth overcome him until his chest is sore from laughing. Somewhere along the way, Sorey had joined him and he flashes Mikleo a blinding smile when their joy is finally spent. Not even a nap spanning hundreds of years could dampen Sorey's spirits. Before they spend the better part of eternity in the ruins, Mikleo finally gets to his feet and holds out a hand for Sorey. The grip is firm and real and Mikleo tugs him up, surprised to find them standing at an even height. Sorey's face brightens impossibly more at the revelation and he skims a hand over the top of their heads.
"Hey, look at that!" Sorey says. "You grew a little while I was asleep, huh?"
"Just a little?" Mikleo chuckles.
"Your hair did, too." Sorey tries poking his head around Mikleo's shoulder to get a better look. Hesitantly, Mikleo turns to let him marvel at the locks cascading down his back. "It's beautiful."
Of all the things to say, Sorey had to pick the one that leaves Mikleo speechless. Mikleo swallows a lump in his throat and turns to gaze at Sorey, at the beautiful blond hair that glimmers like gold in the light.
"So are you." Mikleo brushes Sorey's bangs aside to anoint his forehead with a kiss, lingering to let the sensation soak into his skin. When he pulls away, Sorey's cheeks have taken on a rosy glow, but the smile hasn't left his face. Mikleo feels heat bloom in his own cheeks and he tears himself away before it has a chance to spread any further. "Let's go. You have a lot of reading to catch up on."
"I can't wait," Sorey laughs, slipping his hand into Mikleo's own where their fingers entwine like they had always meant to fit together.
Side by side, they take their first step into the new world.