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Deep within the waters of the First, so far down that even the ever-present light that covered their skies was unable to reach it, their stood a monument. Shielded by the frigid waters and all manners of beast there was a city of gleaming spires. Stone, glass and metal stood bright and tall forming towers that the reached up into the ocean. So tall they almost seemed to pierce the waves. However, for as bright as it shone, it was no true city. A reflection, a shadow born of grief and loss.
‘The shape is correct at the very least’
But the towers were hollow, light shining inside from rooms that held no people. The squares, once full of families, children, signs of life, lay bare and cold. The stalls that once burst with mouth-watering scents and sights born from the minds of culinary masters were empty. None of the bright signage that used to comfort him.
‘The city has been faithfully recreated, but not everyone could’
Emet-Selch bore a power beyond imagine, but even he had his limits. He had made this twisted recreation of Amaurot, but was unable to portray its inhabitants. Even with his vast aether supplies, creating a living, breathing illusion of a city was a momentous task. So only areas of importance later in his life had been filled with shades. Each of them going through the motions as if it was another day and not years after their world had been brought to a shattering end. The shades were featureless, as they were wont to be, masks and robes the only thing that could be seen.
‘Oh, my dear… what have you done’
They were a paradox, crafted lovingly and simultaneously entirely by accident. A shade tugged along on the pathways of Hades’ memories. One never meant to be here, but unable to be separated from his dear’s memories. His own memories were fragmented, he knew his name was Hythlodaeus, he knew what Emet-Selch was to him and what this city was. The events leading up to now were cloudy, impressions and details revealing themselves painstakingly slowly. It felt like gauze had replaced his brain and attempting to force it just left him with a sense of vertigo, as if he was looking over the edge of the world’s tallest cliff.
The city had stood for a number of days, brought into existence out of the aether. He hadn’t caught site of Emet-Selch yet but he knew the signature of his aether anywhere, after all confluences of their powers had been responsible for the creation of many a concepts. The shades that wandered the city were slowly coming into focus, instead of repeated actions they began to follow their pathways, finding documents to sort and bureaucracy to commit to. However, he had found himself exempt. Rather than some predestined plan, he was free to wander the memories and muse on his lover’s journey.
And what a long journey it had been. The fall of their world came with much warning, still they found themselves powerless to change it. The Convocation toiled endlessly, every concept examined to the letter, every method pursued in a last attempt to save their souls. Emet had been stressed to the extreme those days, and Hythlodaeus had spent time finding his own solutions and finding ways to relax the man in equal measure.
There were days he would take the large, gilded elevator to the man’s office, pulling the papers from his hands and whisking him away for a few golden hours. Hours where they could just pretend that everything was fine, and they were students out on one of the many excursions they used to take. Whispered nothings and stolen kisses acting as a brief bandage to their souls. He would listen to his lover rant and rave, about Lahabrea, Elidibus and all the others. How foolish they were being and if they would just listen to his ideas. Hythlodaeus would offer soothing words if needed or act as a needed ear for acidic rants. Whilst it did little to stop the bigger problem, the relief on the man’s face was as valuable to him.
Hythlodaeus had longed for the halcyon days of before. Days where they could spend hours just laying together enjoyed the sun streaming through the windows or exciting dates to different corners of the world, lovingly recommended by Azem. Now, he was instead forced to feel the aether of his lover as he suffered, and what suffering it was. Every line of aether that made up the city thrummed with pain and loss. The city felt like a corpse, weeping and decomposing. If that was what his aether felt like, what must the man look like now. What expression must he be wearing as a mask, cracked and sealed over his emotions. A recreation like this was no random whim, and it would never have even been considered by the man before. How he must have agonised in loneliness to force his hand. He just wanted to reach out and hold him, draw him in and chase away the shadows that dogged at his heels. He knew that his own power was a pale mirror of Hades’, but he would fight with everything he had. It would be the only way to apologise for his part in the pain.
The night of the summoning was unfortunately one he remembers in extreme detail. The flames licking up the sides of the towers, stars falling from the skies and monstrosities born from their own powers streaking blood and sorrow across the stones. The choice had seemed exceedingly simple to him at the time. Either let this horror go on unabated, punishing all those in existence or give up himself and become a part of the solution. It wasn’t the ending he had planned for himself. He had hoped to return to the star alongside his love when both of their duties had been completed, but he resolved himself to this new course. However, the same resolve fled him almost immediately when his eyes met those beautiful gold ones. Eyes that normally gazed on him with the utmost love were twisted in sorrow and agony. Hades was not one to openly display his emotions and everyday Hythlodaeus thanked the world that he was privy to the mans’ thoughts. But now the despair present on his face was visible for the world to see. It had hurt so much to see, and he almost considered turning around and running with his lover as far as possible. Perhaps they could’ve escaped this calamity together. But it would not be fair. He instead pressed a desperate kiss to the same lips which had been quirked in a smile not one day ago. He forced every inch of his feelings into them and when they parted, he felt emptier than he ever had. Walking away from that most dearest to him he refused to even turn lest his resolve desert him once more.
To know that he was responsible in part for the pain that fed this skeleton of a city left him with a yawning pit in his stomach that consumed his every waking moment. He wanted to speak with the man, to assure him that he was comfortable in his last moments. That no matter what Hades had done, he had always loved him and what love him forever more. Perhaps what ever part of him remained in the Aetherial Sea would be able to convey this. He knew the man would never listen to a shade like him. He would see him as a travesty, an affront to the real Hythlodaeus’ memory.
So, for now he would wait. Wait for a chance to see his love again, to see the despair on his face and try and chase it away with his will. If it had even a chance of easing his pain, then he would pursue it with all his might. But for now, he would watch as the shades continued upon their lives, products of an inexhaustible grief possessed by a man that nothing but love for the world.