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There’s some giggling coming from inside as Morax turns the doorknob to enter the meeting room. Almost immediately, the sound stops, but when Rukkhadevata and Makoto realise that it’s only him, they quickly make a gesture for him to close the door, their grins barely suppressed on their lips.
“Morax, come here,” Rukkhadevata beckons. There’s a box in her hand, and when Morax moves closer to glance at what’s inside, he sees beautiful hair clips made out of Kalpalata Lotuses. “What do you think?”
“They are beautiful,” Morax comments, nodding his head in wonderment. He’s not really sure what the occasion is, but he is honest when he gives his compliment.
“Thank you, I made them myself,” Rukkhadevata says, cheeks tinting a soft pink. She then looks at Makoto, her lips splitting into a wide grin. “We should go to Inazuma to see Makoto and Ei’s gift. She said it’s a stuffed toy.”
Makoto splutters, before she nudges Rukkhadevata’s arm. “Rukkha!” she exclaims. It takes only a split second for her face to turn a dark shade of crimson, and her fingers twitch with the urge to pull her white hood over her head.
Now, Morax is even more confused. Maybe this has something to do with an upcoming gathering. He missed the previous Archon Meeting due to a threat that had decided to make itself known to Liyue, so he wasn’t able to catch up with what they had discussed. He assumes that this meeting is a continuation from the previous one, judging by the gifts that he isn’t aware that he should be bringing.
“So we are having a gift exchange,” Morax says, his statement sounding more like a question.
Maybe he was wrong, because Makoto and Rukkhadevata were now looking at him with widened eyes. For some reason, the two of them share a horrified look with each other before looking at him again, and Morax fights the urge to squirm uncomfortably. The way they are looking at him is as if he had missed something important—which wasn’t entirely his fault since he missed the last meeting. He wished he had asked about the details earlier to avoid such a reaction.
“Morax... do you know what day it is today?” Rukkhadevata asks.
“...Thursday,” Morax answers, carefully.
“No, Morax. The date.”
“June 15...?” Morax says, frowning. He is certain that there is nothing particularly important on that date.
“Tomorrow is the 16th of June,” Makoto says, using a hand to cover her mouth. “Please don’t tell us you forgot.”
Morax’s brows furrow. What is on June 16—?
June 16. The middle of the month in the middle of the year.
Tomorrow is Barbatos’ birthday.
“Oh, Celestia,” Morax whispers, finally understanding the horrified looks his fellow archons were giving.
As an archon, they originally didn’t have birthdays, but after Barbatos and Makoto had mingled with humans for centuries, they decided to give each archon a birthday, just to celebrate something for fun. It’s to give them all a reason to meet up more than once a year—or outside of urgent meetings.
“Morax, did you actually forget?!” Makoto exclaims.
“I—”
The door suddenly flies open, and all three of them hold their breaths, afraid that it’s Barbatos for a split second. However, it’s only Tsaritsa, Focalors, and Murata, who seem to be deep into a conversation. They look like they are talking about gifts too, and when they notice the room’s abrupt silence, they immediately stop.
Focalors’ lips curl into a smirk, and she proceeds to cross her arms over chest. “Now, which one of you forgot that tomorrow is Barbatos’ birthday?”
“H-how did you even know?” Rukkhadevata asks, flinching. Morax wants to clamp a hand over her mouth, because there’s no need to further discuss an issue that can expose him.
“It’s the guilt. I’m smelling it,” Focalors says, eyes darting around between the three of them. Something about her gaze is intense, and it’s starting to make the three of them sweat.
Rukkhadevata and Makoto waste no time pointing at him (sorry, Morax, they’re not willing to have an interrogation with the God of Justice).
“Thank you, both of you,” Morax says, his voice solemn.
“Morax?” Murata says, her jaw dropping. “I expected it from Makoto, but definitely not from you.”
“Hey!” Makoto says, offended.
Focalors gasps, snapping her head to look at Morax. She waves a fist in the air. “Shame on you, Morax!”
“Remind me why I am being horribly criticised when archons weren’t even supposed to have birthdays,” Morax says, his face grim. (Don’t get him wrong, he has nothing against the concept of birthdays, but he thinks they are overreacting a bit just because Barbatos’ birthday had temporarily slipped from his mind.)
“Because we’re not the ones trying to flirt with Barbatos in every single meeting,” Tsaritsa answers nonchalantly, raising a quizzical brow. “If anyone is going to remember his birthday, shouldn’t it be you?”
Morax lets out a choking noise, and all of a sudden, he starts coughing. Even though he thinks it wasn’t that obvious, he supposes his attempts were... still visible if they can bring up about it.
“So this means you don’t have a gift for him,” Murata says, deciding to break the suffocating silence. “His birthday is tomorrow, and you got nothing.”
“To say ‘nothing’ is not true,” Morax says, though it’s futile saying it out loud when everyone in the room can see the lie through his teeth. Okay, yes—he may have forgotten to buy a gift for Barbatos, and rushing to buy one now means that there’s a chance that he’s not giving him the perfect gift. But he firmly believes in his capabilities to find something that Barbatos likes as soon as possible.
An idea strikes him at this very moment, and he’s sure Barbatos will love it. Based on centuries of observation, anything related to human traditions is something that the Anemo Archon is fond of.
“Not only will we give gifts like usual, but we will also hold a party,” Morax says, after a period of silence.
Tsaritsa looks surprised. “A party?”
Focalors taps a finger over her chin. “Is it the one humans love to throw so much?”
“Yes,” Morax says, and he can’t help but feel proud of his own idea. He can already envision what the party will look like; lots of balloons, confetti, music—maybe some drinks too to entertain the Anemo Archon’s love for alcohol. “With your assistance, I’m sure we can execute it.”
“Are you sure we can get it done with only a day of planning?” Rukkhadevata asks, sounding a little worried.
“Rukkha, we’ve fought all kinds of monsters and gods,” Murata says, rubbing her palms together excitedly. A spark suddenly lights up from the movement, and she instantly glares at Focalors when the archon splashes water over it. “You’ve lived for six thousand years, I’m sure planning a party is nothing. Just tell us what we need to do, and we’ll help.”
Morax gives a bow to show them his gratitude. “Thank you,” he says, and he starts thinking of a plan in his head. “I just need someone to distract Barbatos while I form a plan. We don’t want him to find—”
Wait.
“Isn’t Barbatos supposed to sleep until next month?” Morax asks. How could he have forgotten that Barbatos had to fall into slumber?
“Yes, we’re all aware,” Rukkhadevata says, though she looks unusually calm with the reminder. Everyone other than Morax doesn’t seem to be panicking—so that means he’s missing something here. “That was the reason why we’re gathered for this meeting. We wanted to tell you our plan to get Barbatos awake.”
“Do enlighten me,” Morax says, brows knitting together.
Murata takes a step forward. “Here’s how things are going to go,” she begins. “Rukkha and Tsaritsa will be fetching Barbatos from his domain. Since Rukkha can enter people’s dreams, she’s going to wake him up from there.”
“Are you sure there won’t be consequences for interrupting his slumber?” Morax asks sceptically, his lips subconsciously pulling into a frown. Despite his excitement to throw Barbatos a party, he prefers waiting and celebrating at a later date than risking the archon’s wellbeing. Barbatos is weaker than them in terms of power due to his refusal to rule his nation, and unlike Makoto, who freely joins in with the people of her nation, he normally goes under a human disguise so that his people wouldn’t know it’s him. It gives the impression that he’s absent to his people, and that weakens his power even further.
“Don’t worry, we actually asked him about it before,” Rukkhadevata reassures, pushing a strand of hair over her ear. “He said that he’ll need to compensate for the sleep that got interrupted, but there won’t be any negative effects—apart from feeling weaker than usual.”
Morax looks at the floor thoughtfully. “If there are no negative effects, then I suppose it will be alright…”
“Relax, Morax,” Murata says, slapping a hand behind his back. If he was a normal human, it would’ve sent him flying already with how energetic it was. “Rukkha knows what she’s doing, and Barbatos already slept like—what? Three months? Everything’s going to be fine.”
➳
When someone says “everything is going to be fine”, it is normal to expect the total opposite of it.
So it’s quite surprising when everything turns out to be... actually fine.
They decided to throw the party in Dihua Marsh. Morax had purposely chosen somewhere out in the open after a lot of consideration. Barbatos would normally go into his human disguise whenever he was around humans, but since he had to fall into slumber, Morax was certain that he had reverted back into his archon form. It was the reason why he chose an open place—somewhere away from mortals, and at the same time, spacious enough for Barbatos if he wanted to use his wings. He knows the Anemo Archon wouldn’t have the energy to change back into his human form, so at least he will enjoy the freedom of flying around here.
He goes through the list of food and drinks again, nodding his head when everything seems to be already on the table. Even though everything is almost complete, he still can’t help but feel slightly nervous. Whenever it comes to Barbatos, he feels the need to make sure that everything is perfect.
A hand over his shoulder leaves him startled, and he spins around to find Makoto with an apologetic smile on her face.
“All the decorations are ready,” Makoto says, using her thumb to point at the scene behind her. Focalors, Murata and Ei, who had also volunteered to help them with the party, are currently competing to see who can blow the biggest balloon. (Focalors is failing miserably though, and she seems to be very petty about it.) “We have a hundred white balloons, confetti prepared for when we show the cake, and the wine hidden properly behind the tree.”
“Thank you, Makoto,” Morax says. He finally allows himself to relax. There’s nothing else to be done but wait for Rukkhadevata and Tsaritsa—along with Barbatos’ return.
“That’s not fair!” Focalors suddenly yells, and when Morax and Makoto turn around, she’s using her forefinger to point directly into Murata’s face. “Your breath is infused with pyro, so the heat helps expand the balloon even more! I declare foul play!”
“Objection, hearsay!” Murata exclaims, one hand holding the end of the balloon to keep the air from flowing out, while the other slams onto the ground with exaggerated aggression. It’s obvious that she’s taunting the Hydro Archon with the way she’s trying her best to hold back the snort from escaping her.
Focalors gasps, looking at her in disgust as she places a hand over her chest. “That’s not even how you’re supposed to use the term, you—” she starts talking in her nation’s language, and it doesn’t take an idiot to know that she’s spitting out profanities.
Morax palms his face with his hand, while Makoto goes and tries to calm the situation. Focalors is definitely not unknown for her dramatics, and it has reached to the point where Ei decides to help her twin by just popping Murata’s balloon with electro. It quickly switches Focalors’ whiny complaints into uncontrollable, purposely-provoking laughter—and of course she has to be doing that while poking the Pyro Archon’s face.
For a second, Morax thinks Focalors might end up getting vaporised into thin air, when Makoto interrupts, “Look, they’re here!”
Morax has never turned around so quickly before, and the first thing that hits him is relief to see that Barbatos is conscious and well, approaching them while Tsaritsa and Rukkhadevata support him from each side. His eyes are currently covered with a blindfold, but Morax can tell that he’s barely containing his excitement with the way his wings are twitching rapidly behind him.
He doesn’t realise that he’s exhaling a shaky breath. (The Anemo Archon has always been so captivating with his ethereal beauty.)
All of a sudden, he feels the ground shake, and everyone shifts into an offensive stance when they see an Abyss Mage cackling from a distance, bringing an army of monsters with it.
➳
Rukkhadevata and Tsaritsa freeze when they see the horde of monsters attacking the other archons, and they give each other a look before flicking their gaze to Barbatos.
Barbatos had looked really excited when they told him there was a gathering of the Seven. It had been slightly hard for them to get him blindfolded at first, but with a great twist of Rukkhadevata’s words—which turned into riddles—they somehow managed to convince him to put it on. Thankfully, keeping his birthday as a surprise was easier, because when he fell into slumber, he had lost track of time, so he was unaware that today was his birthday.
Unfortunately, he must’ve heard the commotion, because there’s a frown on his face now, followed by the furrowing of his brows behind the cloth over his face. “Is everything okay?”
Rukkhadevata opens her mouth, and knowing how she tends to be truthful when it’s about something serious, she almost tells him—but Tsaritsa immediately interferes, shaking her head as a sign to play it cool. “Oh, no—everything’s fine. There’s a bit of a—ah, conflict between Focalors and Murata again. You know them.”
“Is it serious?” Barbatos asks worriedly. At this very moment, he hears lightning crackling in the air and the earth shaking. “Um, was that Morax and Makoto—?”
“No, no. It’s not serious at all,” Tsaritsa says, placing a hand over his shoulder to reassure him. “Rukkhadevata, why don’t you stay here with Barbatos while I help stop Focalors and Murata’s bickering? We don’t want him to deal with all of that while he’s still very much tired.”
“It’s alright, I’m not really—”
“Oh, yes—yes, of course,” Rukkhadevata says, making a quick gesture with her head. Tsaritsa wastes no time to rush into battle, and Rukkhadevata carefully brings Barbatos to a nearby stone bench. “The fights between those two are always out of hand... haha. I hope Tsaritsa can stop them.”
“...Yeah,” Barbatos says, giving her an uncertain smile. He adjusts himself on the bench, folding his wings. “I mean, I don’t really mind seeing them fight. They’re always arguing over the smallest of things.”
“True,” Rukkhadevata says, watching the battle in front of her with apprehension. Why are there so many monsters just as they were about to bring Barbatos to the party? “Hey, Barbatos, can you do me a favour?”
“Hm?” Barbatos lifts his head up to the direction of her voice.
“Can you stay here for a few minutes?” she asks, already standing up from the seat. “It’ll be really quick. I think it’s a little serious, but you should just stay here since you still need your rest.”
Barbatos frowns. “Rukkha, I’m actually fine—”
“I promise I’ll be back!” Rukkhadevata yells, dashing into the battlefield when she sees the monsters heading over to where the food is. “Whatever you do, promise me you won’t take the blindfold off, Barbatos!”
“I—” Barbatos has a feeling that Rukkhadevata has already left him, because he feels nothing but the oddly quiet wind. His shoulders droop with mild dejection. “I promise…”
He remains seated on the stone bench, swinging his legs in boredom while feeling the ground shake again. He doesn’t realise that the other archons are doing everything they can to keep the large horde of monsters from getting near the party they have set up; doesn’t realise the hydro hilichurl rogues that are creeping up from behind him.
He hums a tune since he has nothing better to do, feeling a gentle swirl of anemo in the air.
Just as the hydro hilichurl rogues are about to lunge themselves at him, anemo-infused arrows shoot directly through their chests, and they stumble before disintegrating into thin air.
Barbatos sighs, using his free hand to lift the blindfold, while the other tightens its hold over his bow. “I told them I was going to be weak, not helpless,” he mumbles begrudgingly, head turning to look at the battlefield not far away from him. “Gah, now I’m offended!”
➳
Whoever planned this attack knew what they were doing. The monsters involved were nothing when it came to fighting a group of archons, but the waves were almost nonstop, which prolonged what was supposed to be a short battle.
The real problem is that they are trying their best to keep the monsters from destroying the party they have prepared, which is why they aren’t using their full elemental powers whenever monsters approach near the place. Yes, they had priorities, and if that came with not leaving a crater over their blood sweat and tears (the birthday party), then so be it.
“They’re scattered everywhere,” Murata grits her teeth in annoyance, swinging her spear towards the enemies who try to get close to Barbatos’ birthday gifts. She sees Tsaritsa and Rukkhadevata fighting the ones trying to approach the food buffet, and her eyes widen when she doesn’t see Barbatos with them. “Tsaritsa, Rukkha, where is Barbatos?!”
“I left him with—” Tsaritsa finally registers Rukkhadevata’s presence, and her eyes are blown wide as she frantically looks around. “Rukkha, why are you not with Barbatos?!”
“I couldn’t let them destroy the food!” Rukkhadevata answers, sending a blow to a small group of hilichurls. “But don’t worry! Barbatos is safe and sound, sitting right over—”
Tsaritsa follows her gaze to the stone bench where she has left Barbatos.
It’s empty.
“—there?” Rukkhadevata finishes with a confused squeak, ducking when a stonehide lawachurl is thrown over her and crashing somewhere a little too near the food buffet. “Oh no—where did he go?!”
“Sorry, Rukkha, there’s no point promising when you weren’t even there to hear it,” Barbatos says, hovering right above all of them. The bow in his hand glows and shifts into his lyre, and he strums the strings to form a giant whirlwind.
The whirlwind, much to the other archons’ relief, was summoned just a bit further away from the party, but it helps suck all the remaining enemies into it. Focalors quickly takes the opportunity to apply hydro to it, and the rest follows by using their elemental powers.
...It’s a bit of an overkill, with lightning, meteors, ice shards dropping, but Barbatos has a feeling that all of them needed to unleash their power with how much they were holding back just now. Kind of like a stress reliever.
He hopes the people of Liyue don’t take this the wrong way and think they have earned Morax’s—or the whole Seven’s wrath.
“Barbatos, you’re awake!” Focalors shrieks, leaping into the air and crashing down onto him.
Rukkhadevata makes an alarmed noise, while Tsaritsa hastily picks up the Hydro Archon off him.
“Ya-hoo! It’s good to see you guys,” Barbatos grins from the ground, before Murata and Makoto help him up. They both brush off the dirt that stuck to his wings as he looks around, frowning when he can’t find a certain someone. “Where’s Morax? I swear I saw him drop a meteor just now.”
Makoto gives him a small smile, tilting her head to point at the direction where the Geo Archon had run off to. Barbatos sees that he has made an attempt to hide behind a tree, but it’s futile when the white hood he’s wearing peeks out from behind the bark.
“Try not to tease him so much,” Rukkhadevata says, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “He put a lot of effort into this—um, gathering because you were going to be awake. I think he’s upset because some of them are ruined.”
Barbatos lets out a huff, before he shakes his head. “That blockhead,” he says, though everyone doesn’t miss the fondness in those words. He looks at them as his wings start to flutter. “I’m going to talk to him for a while. Be right back.”
He flies over to the tree, descending to the ground with a gentle breeze. He has to force himself to push down a smile from creeping up to his lips, because the sight of Morax moping has always been so adorable.
“Hello,” he greets, and he sees Morax quickly snapping out from his trance. He inches his way closer, dropping to his knees. “Mind if I sit here?”
Morax seems to stiffen a little at his close proximity, but he eventually shakes his head. “No.”
Barbatos sits on the grass, scooting closer to the God of Contracts while purposely letting his wings brush his broad back. There’s a faint flush to Morax’s face at the touch, but he pretends that he doesn’t see it from under his hood. He reminds himself he has to refrain from teasing, just this once.
“I must admit, I’m a little hurt that the God of Contracts didn’t bother to greet this mere wind after he had just woken up from his slumber,” Barbatos says, breaking the silence that has seemed to surround them. He tilts his head to the side, meeting those amber irises. “And here I thought he would be the first to greet me.”
“Barbatos... I— I apologise,” Morax says, head lowering in shame. He refuses to look him in the eye again, and it’s apparent to Barbatos that he’s slightly nervous with the way he’s rubbing his hands together. “To be frank, I am embarrassed that this did not go as planned. I thought everything would be perfect for you, but now…”
Morax reveals a bucket full of wine bottles. Most of them are already broken, the wine spilling inside.
Barbatos’ face softens, before he extends his arm to hold his hand. “You old buffoon, you know I don’t care about anything else as long as I get to see you again.” He digs his hand into the layers of his white robe, seemingly searching for something. “I don’t really know what the occasion is, but you have this bard’s gratitude for your thoughtfulness.” He takes out a small bottle of dandelion wine, putting it in the other’s palm. “Here, I saved this for you.”
Morax looks at him with widened eyes, blinking at the wine in disbelief.
“You know, just in case I slept longer than I was supposed to and woke up on a special day,” Barbatos adds, crossing his legs. “That thing has been sitting in my domain for centuries, so it is guaranteed to taste good.”
Morax stares at the bottle for a while, before his eyes flicker to Barbatos’ face again. He’s quiet for a whole minute, and if Barbatos is being honest, it’s starting to make him a little uncomfortable since he doesn’t know what’s going on in his mind. But then he hears the low chuckle from the Geo Archon—the sound relieved—and for the first time since he has arrived here, he sees the crinkle in Morax’s eyes as he clutches the bottle of wine like it’s his most precious treasure.
“It is indeed ironic how I am receiving a gift from you when it’s your birthday,” Morax breathes out, the awe evident in his voice.
Barbatos’ mouth instantly falls agape. “It’s 16th June already?”
“Happy birthday!” the other archons exclaim, with Focalors bringing the cake, while the others hold their gifts. Murata summons a flame with her finger, and she lights up the green candle right on top of the cake.
“You guys…” Barbatos says, quickly jumping to his feet and looking at all of them. He finally understands the few balloons that miraculously didn’t pop during the battle and some of the surviving decorations. “Was this a party for me?”
“Yes,” Tsaritsa answers, before she gives Morax a knowing look as he pushes himself up. “It was all Morax’s idea. He wanted to surprise you.”
“Aw, Morax…” Barbatos says, intertwining his arm with the Geo Archon’s. “I thought you weren’t very fond of human customs?”
“For you, I would always have to make an exception,” Morax says, and he bends down to place a kiss right on top of Barbatos’ head.
Barbatos is no different than a human teenager as he giggles, before he pulls down Morax by the arm to give him a kiss to the lips. There’s a rumble coming from the Geo Archon’s chest, before he reciprocates the action twofold while cupping his face.
The other archons, including Ei, must admit that they never signed up for this, so they can’t help the disgusted sounds that escape their throat. The flame Murata has put on the candle has died down too, and if the two had kissed any longer (right in front of them!), Focalors would let herself give into temptation to summon a cloud of rain to literally dampen the mood instead.
Morax and Barbatos at least have the decency to look embarrassed once they realise that there’s an audience during their intimacy. They quickly pull away, unsubtly wiping the corner of their mouths that’s covered by saliva.
“Please get a room if you two ever decide to do that again,” Murata says, her face deadpan.
“Or just get married, because I’m sick of you two flirting around like this!” Focalors yells.
“What do you mean?” Barbatos asks, and he has no shame as he rubs his cheek affectionately against Morax’s arm, earning groans from the third wheelers who did not consent to be a part of this. “Morax and I are already married.”
It’s almost comical to see all of their jaws dropping at the same time, but Barbatos has a hard time wondering what he had done to earn those kinds of reactions. He immediately turns his head to the side to look at Morax for answers, but it turns out that there’s nothing for the other archon to offer as he merely scratches his head; he’s just as baffled as he is.
“You— when— what?!” Focalors blurts out incoherently, looking entirely confused.
“What she’s trying to say is, you both are married?” Rukkhadevata says instead, since Focalors isn’t capable of saying it herself after she has reverted back to speaking her country’s language.
“Yeah…” Barbatos replies, his face bewildered as he tilts his head up to meet Morax’s gaze. “Did we actually forget to tell them?”
Morax ponders the answer for a moment, before he nods. “I believe so.”
“Objection!” Focalors suddenly shouts, pointing to Morax. It has been acknowledged by the whole Seven that she has the habit of pointing at people’s faces with her forefinger. If she was a little taller, she would’ve poked the Geo Archon directly at the nose by now. “I disapprove of this marriage!”
“I agree!” Makoto responds, doing a fist pump in the air. All of a sudden, she looks up thoughtfully, trying to recollect what she’s agreeing to. “...With Focalors’ objection?”
“Normally, I don’t agree with Focalors, but I’m with her on this one,” Murata says, crossing her arms over her chest. Steam seems to blow out from her nostrils—a sign that she’s truly pissed. “How dare you both get married without telling us.”
“Why did you even marry in secret?” Tsaritsa asks. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem to mind the marriage. She’s simply curious why she didn’t get an invite. (Maybe a little offended too.)
“I’m just sad,” Rukkhadevata sniffs, wiping a lone tear from the corner of her eye. “I thought we were at least deserving enough to get invited to see you wed.”
“No—it’s not like that,” Barbatos quickly says, arms flailing around in the air. Behind him, his wings are all ruffled from the tension. He has always reacted badly to guilt. “We both just didn’t think it was that impor—”
Focalors swings her arm, moving her forefinger from Morax’s face to Barbatos’ at lightning speed. “You didn’t think it was important, or you didn’t think we were important enough to be invited?”
The crowd gasps, and Barbatos sweats. “Focalors—”
A commotion instantly breaks out when everyone starts talking at the same time, some of them discussing what Morax and Barbatos’ marriage was like, while others are debating whether they genuinely forgot to tell them about the marriage or was there a reason behind the secrecy. Barbatos tries to explain to them that the reason is because they thought it was something trivial and nothing else, but he should’ve known it was futile whenever the Seven started talking simultaneously.
A nerve pops through Morax’s forehead after a while, and all of a sudden, he slams down his fist onto the ground, causing the entire Dihua Marsh to quake. Barbatos has himself hovered in the air when that happens, while the others immediately topple to the ground like dominoes.
“Thank you, Morax!” Barbatos says out loud, practically yelling, as if he has been raising his voice for the last ten minutes. He uses a hand to pinch the bridge of nose, before he looks at the other archons with his most patient and angelic smile. “Great news everyone! Morax and I have decided to get married again, and you’re all invited this time!”
“We are—?” Morax is about to ask, but Barbatos immediately silences him by nudging his side.
Everyone stares at him with blinking eyes, before they cheer out loud. Hugging each other, crying, and even passing out.
And so Morax and Barbatos get married for the second time, finally giving satisfaction to all the other archons. Even though they’ve been married for almost three centuries now, at least they can celebrate their anniversary twice—and with one of them on Barbatos’ birthday too.