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Hurried steps padded against the stonework that paved the streets of Amaurot.
He was late; for the first time in as long as they had known one another he was late, and he knew would never hear the end of it.
They had met in this very same place a thousand times before, and he knew the way there by heart – knew the exact number of steps and precisely how long it took him to arrive - and by all rights today should be no different.
So why was his heart fluttering as persistently as a caged petalouda in his chest?
Indeed, why then did he find himself obsessively braiding and re-braiding his hair – hair that, as much as he wished otherwise, may not even be seen this eve – and anxiously adjusting his mask to ensure it was not so much as a hair off center before he could bring himself to leave home?
He felt himself flushing from a combination of his swift pace and the realization that he had been pushing to the back of his mind since arriving home the night prior.
Today was different – and by no small margin – for today was the first day he did not have to walk the streets of Amaurot pretending as though he were not deeply, hopelessly in love.
***
While the day before had started like any other, late in the evening when the streets were quiet, he found himself sitting with Hades in a small park outside Anyder, watching the stars as Hythlodaeus meticulously described for him the finer details of the first concept he had participated in approving that very same afternoon. After he realized how long he had been speaking with hardly so much as a pause to allow Hades to acknowledge his words, he turned to his friend and the sight of his face took his breath away.
His mouth had turned up at both corners, and he appeared completely transfixed on Hythlodaeus as he hung upon his every word. He looked happier than he had in moons, and not at all bothered by the fact that he had not so much as managed to get a word in edgewise since the moment they had arrived.
Despite this, what caught Hythlodaeus’ attention most was that Hades had removed his mask; it sat at his side, flashes of white and silver glinting as it sat half-forgotten, reflecting the glow of the full moon above them.
Never before had Hades done anything so brazen – anything so improper – as to remove his mask in public. There was no doubt they were alone, but that had never been of any consequence to Hades, who insisted on following proper etiquette to the letter, and quite often even when not strictly required.
“Hades, your mask,” Hythlodaeus stammered, his words falling clumsily from his mouth in a knot.
Hades smiled even more broadly at how flustered Hythlodaeus had become. He leaned forward and rose a single hand to gently lower his friend’s mask in turn, intense pools of molten gold flowing across Hythlodaeus’ bare face, and Hythlodaeus gasped lightly as they locked eyes.
“We are alone, are we not?” Hades inquired, as he cupped Hythlodaeus’ face in his hand, his gentle touch and radiating warmth causing him to shiver lightly, his breath quickening in his chest as Hades paused, mere ilms from Hythlodaeus’ face.
“You have no idea how truly remarkable you are, do you? Even now you describe such a grand accomplishment as though it were something that happened to you rather than something you made happen. Humble to a fault, and as always it falls to me to ensure that you know…”
Hades paused and seemed unsure as to how he should proceed. He sighed deeply, as though he were being forced to continue by some unseen force, his mouth drawn downward in a gentle frown as his eyes darted away from Hythlodaeus’ sheepishly at the last moment before he once again found the courage to speak.
“…that you know exactly how proud I am of you…and exactly how much I love you.”
Hythlodaeus stared at Hades with his mouth hanging lightly open, unable to form so much as a single word as Hades moved forward the final few ilms to press their lips together with a feather light kiss.
“Though if you would prefer that I put my mask back on I would be more than happy to oblige-“
Hythlodaeus threw his arms around Hades, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck as Hades gathered him up tightly in his arms.
“It certainly took you long enough to admit,” he complained, earning a disbelieving scoff from Hades as he chuckled lightly by way of reply.
“You stubborn fool. I love you too,” he whispered, and there they sat, together in blissful silence under the light of the moon, basking in the glow of each other’s aether, alight with the unmistakably distinct shimmer that belonged only to two souls in love.
***
Hythlodaeus shook his head to return himself to the present; for all his careful preparations, he could feel his hair coming loose under his cowl, and his mask now sat askew on his face, slipping in earnest as he increased his pace to a steady run. He passed no few number of onlookers who, despite being blurred in his periphery, he could tell were obviously gawking at such an inappropriate display.
Let them stare, he thought to himself as he felt the breeze billow up under his cowl, raising a hand to hold it down and prevent it from flying off his head entirely. While he did not mind giving them all a show, he rather supposed there was no need for such an early encore.
The sound of Hades’ voice filled his mind and he beamed, shifting into soul sight without fully meaning to, and scanning the area ahead for the color he had longed so desperately to see all day.
“I love you,” he heard Hades say again in his mind, over and over until the very sound of those selfsame words – words that he would come to hear every day that remained to him on this star – filled his soul with more joy than he had ever thought possible.
When the color he had been searching for came into focus, shimmering even more brightly than it had the day prior, he knew he had been spotted, too. He beamed at the knowledge that Hades had observed such poor etiquette no less than two times in as many days – so unlike him, he thought, but love will make fools of the best of us, he conceded.
As he reached Hades at long last, the sound of his voice – sighs and all – once again sparked such pure joy in him that he felt as though he might find himself set alight, and it was all he could do not to fall into his embrace in plain view of every soul in Amaurot.
***
“Hythlodaeus?”
A gentle voice roused him from his reverie, and he looked up at the sky, half expecting to see the gentle glow of another idyllic evening in their fair city, but instead bearing witness to the doom that rained down upon them, the sky ablaze and the air thick with ash.
“Themis,” Hythlodaeus said by way of greeting, causing the man who approached him to stop abruptly in his tracks at the sound of his name.
“Forgive me,” he replied after several moments of stunned silence, “it…has been quite some time since anyone called me by my name. I must admit, I was not expecting it.”
Hythlodaeus smiled kindly, although it did not reach his eyes.
“My friend, your duty is only a part of who you are; you have donned the mantle of the Emissary with pride and have served our people well through no small amount of hardship. In these last few moments, however, I bid you join me – not as Elidibus – but simply as you.”
Elidibus contemplated Hythlodaeus’ words and nodded, relenting with no small amount of reluctance and sitting beside him in uneasy silence as they both watched the sky and heard the sorrowful cries of their people echoing throughout Amaurot; a chorus of despair that sung its song for all to hear.
“It is almost time, I suppose,” Hythlodaeus breathed, as he turned toward Elidibus with a guilty look resting heavily on his face.
“Themis, for the sacrifice you are about to make, I fear I have no right to ask even more of you than you have already offered…and yet, I could never forgive myself if I did not.”
Hythlodaeus took a deep breath, coughing lightly as ash and smoke flowed into his lungs.
“While I know not what will happen to our souls after the summoning is complete, as Zodiark’s heart, if you remain able to do so, I would ask you to grant me but one selfish favor.”
“If it is within my power to do, my friend, you can be all but assured that I will do everything I can to see it done. Pray tell, what would you ask of me?”
Hythlodaeus’ heart seized in his chest as his eyes stung and brimmed with tears that he refused to let fall.
“His voice,” he replied simply. Elidibus tilted his head in confusion as Hythlodaeus drew in a single, shuddering breath to steel himself against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm and consume him.
He hung his head low as the tears began to stream down Hythlodaeus’ cheeks of their own volition. He scrubbed them away clumsily with the sleeve of his robe, forcing himself to speak the words that marked the divide between the life he had so joyfully lived, and the existence he would be forced to endure.
“Please,” he whispered, “don’t let me forget his voice.”