Work Text:
“Marethyu?”
Dagon stepped into the sun, raising a palm to shield his eyes. His watery eyes, unused to the bright rays of the desert sun, were blinded for a moment. Shapes and colors melted into a pure white shine before he was able to blink it away, narrowing his horizontal pupils.
The world around him became structured again. Tall stone walls stretched into the blue sky in an unbroken circle around him. They cast a dark shadow upon the land, those ancient, forgotten ruins. They were majestic once, yet naught but a cracked shell remained.
A tall figure adorned in white robes hid in the spare shadow.
“Marethyu, is it you who stands there?” Dagon called once again.
The figure didn’t respond. It slowly turned and looked at his presence curiously.
“Dagon,” it greeted him, but the fishman couldn’t see their lips move; the lower half of their face was covered in black bandages.
Dagon’s eyes widened, the colorful dots of his large irises dancing in the sun. For a moment, he didn’t manage to say a thing. And then, as if he was in the dream, he slowly took a step forward, raising his left arm, reluctantly gripping the handle of his blade. “Lord Aten? I did not know you were still alive…”
A pair of blue eyes, crowned with perfect marks of eyeliner, eyed him from head to toe. “Did you still think they threw me in a volcano all those years ago?” He looked unimpressed, unsurprised as always.
Each step left a silent imprint in the shallow veil of sand on the stone floor. “Would having such a thought really be unreasonable? Lord Aten, I have not seen you since I saw you off with Ard-Greimne.” Dagon’s voice then lowered, as if he wasn’t sure whether Aten should hear it. “Though I knew they wouldn’t be able to unjustifiably punish someone like you.”
Aten’s lips curved in a tiny smile, although hidden by the black covering he wore. “You were my jailer back then. But there was another, in a white robe and a straw hat…”
“Marethyu,” Dagon finished. “That’s why, for a moment, I thought it was him who stood here instead of you.”
“Once my jailer, now my killer, is that not right?” Aten looked at the blade gripped in Dagon’s hand. His eyes narrowed, and flashed an intimidating yellow shine. “I can feel the wrath of this sword, made of pure iron; anyone who wields it must not have good intentions.”
Although Aten suspected his life might be in danger, his voice remained calm. Dagon greatly admired that trait of his, never showing a single weakness in times of peril. He smiled, two rows of sharp, irregular teeth flashing, and quickly drew his sword completely out of its sheath. Aten’s composure visibly tensed.
“Iron does not hurt to wield. Weapons are harmless as long as you’re not on their opposite end.” He swiped the blade in front of him and the metal flashed in the sun. “Besides, iron has no effect on me; I’m not an Elder. Perhaps you only feel threatened because you have no immunity against it.”
Aten’s eyes narrowed. “Are you mocking me?”
“Never,” Dagon looked him in the eyes. His voice became calm and steady. “I have not come to kill you, Lord Aten. I didn’t even know you were alive.”
“What business brings you here, then?”
“I was traveling.”
Aten raised an eyebrow. “Through the desert? I was convinced you were a creature of the waters; this heat and drought must be devastating. Is there no liquid in the place you’re headed to?”
“Those things are not for you to know,” Dagon sheathed his sword. The metal returned to hanging around his waist with a gentle swish. “Though the sun is merciless, it reminds me of you.”
Aten tilted his head. His white robes swayed in the gentle, dry wind and swept the floor. “How come?”
“Alone in the sky. Persistent, present even in the most desolate of places. Undying.” His voice softened. “Brighter than anyone else. Powerful. Warm.”
Aten lowered his eyelids and looked to Dagon’s feet, unable to meet his colorful eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you were complimenting me,” he said, ignoring the warmth which sparked in his chest and flushed his face.
Dagon chuckled. It was a strange, bubbly sound, and Aten’s heartbeat almost stopped in place when he heard it; but he kept his composure, standing still as if he was of marble. “Although unexpected, it was a pleasure meeting you here. I’ll be on my way now, Lord Aten.” He gently bowed.
“The Sun will watch over you and protect you in this merciless land,” Aten bid him goodbye.
At his words, Dagon snapped his head up and blinked at him as if he didn’t expect to hear them; but at last, his eyes softened again. “It is a great honor if the Sun has taken me in his mercy,” he smiled.
The dry wind continued dancing within the walls, hiding Dagon’s footsteps as Aten watched him walk out to continue his journey.