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“The story goes that King Deshret chose the sage Hermanubis from among the Tighnarians, and appointed him as his familiar. He went on to fight many valiant battles with his Tighnarian companions. They always stood by each other.”
Sethos’ words echoed in Tighnari’s ears with every step he took away from the Akademiya and back towards Gandharva Ville. He knew he was named after the ancient race, as his father told him when he was a child, but he had been unaware of their history. This information was carefully hidden within the Temple of Silence for a long time.
Now, he knew everything: the history of the race, the origins of the Temple of Silence, their ties to the desert and the rainforest, and his ancestors’ ties to Hermanubis.
…his ancestors’ relationship to the ancient power that now resided in Cyno.
Cyno.
Warm amber eyes partially hidden by snow-white bangs flashed into his vision. A small, almost imperceptible smile played upon his lips as the General Mahamatra of his memory gazed over at the forest watcher.
“I like this story.”
Tighnari shivered involuntarily at the image, a flush rising to his cheeks despite the fact that he was alone and far removed from that scene. He attempted to brush it off, adjusting one of his gloves just so he would have something else to focus on. It didn’t matter – the second his gaze settled back on the road and his thoughts returned, they all centered around Cyno. The Temple of Silence was momentarily forgotten in favor of the General.
The sight of Cyno smiling gently at him, illuminated by the setting sun atop the branches above the Akademiya, had left Tighnari’s heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Without the traveler present, the Valuka Shuna wasn’t entirely sure he would have been able to hold himself back from reaching out to the man. Their gentle teasing eased the mood into something lighter, something easier to navigate.
The moment Cyno turned to him, looking at him warmly, Tighnari knew he and his traitorous heart were in trouble.
“Nothing will ever slip through my fingers again."
The words were too charged to be innocent. There was too much reverence in his tone to think he was just referring to some fruit.
Cyno wasn’t just the General Mahamatra to Tighnari. Not even just an old friend from the Akademiya, or a rabid Genius Invocation TCG player with what could arguably be considered too much enthusiasm.
No, he was one of Tighnari’s dearest friends and the connection between them was stronger than any other. Tighnari cared deeply for him, even if he sometimes showed it through exasperated huffs and eye rolls, or chastising him when he showed up in Gandharva Ville with more scrapes and bruises than the last time they’d seen each other.
At some point, those feelings of affection had blossomed into something much more profound than mere friendship.
Butterflies kicked to life in his stomach each time Cyno slid into the booth at Lambad’s beside him. Brushes against his bare skin sent sparks dancing up Tighnari’s spine, and he suppressed a shiver each time. The playful knock at his door in Gandharva Ville brought a smile to his face before he ever opened it, knowing exactly who was on the other side. He hid his laughter at each goofy joke or pun, not because he thought they were actually funny, but because of Cyno’s delighted expressions each time he delivered one.
His concern became anxiety, gripping his chest like a vice each time Cyno threw himself headfirst into danger. Fingers that once trembled from inexperience now shook from worry each time Tighnari helped him patch up an injury.
He loved Cyno, there was no doubt in Tighnari’s mind about that. Although that love may have been quietly expressed through small acts and comforting words, it was all-encompassing. It was part of Tighnari, as natural as breathing.
The tale Sethos and Bamoun wove about Hermanubis and the Tighnarians seemed to serve as even more evidence that Tighnari was inextricably tied to Cyno. Hermanubis and the Tighnarians fought beside each other in each reincarnation of the spirit’s power, even when one of those Ba Fragments were taken far away from the Temple of Silence and found a home in Sumeru City.
“They always stood by each other, from the founding of the Temple of Silence to the fall of Tulaytullah.”
Sethos said that back at the Temple of Silence – and hadn’t Cyno and Tighnari always done exactly that?
Cyno brought coffee to the House of Daena on many occasions in their Akademiya days, sliding a cup across a table to where Tighnari pored over textbooks. Tighnari provided balms to soothe Cyno’s aching muscles as he trained to join the Matra.
Tighnari immediately offered his aid to the traveler and Dehya in the plot to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali the moment he heard Cyno was involved. Cyno rushed to Tighnari’s side as quickly as possible when he heard about the lightning strike, insisting he help him recover.
Even without his memories of the Temple of Silence, Cyno gravitated to Tighnari.
Even without full knowledge of the ancient race, the Valuka Shuna followed his heart each time it tugged him to the General Mahamatra.
Tighnari loved Cyno with everything that he was. Even if he could never vocalize his feelings, he knew he’d harbor them for the rest of his days. Cyno was simply too important to have someone like Tighnari weighing him down. The General Mahamatra was busy and stressed enough without adding a romantic relationship to the mix.
Lost in thought and memories, Tighnari didn’t hear bare feet slapping against the dirt road to Gandharva Ville. The calls of his name fell upon deaf ears, a rare occurrence given his excellent hearing. He didn’t realize anyone was racing to catch up with him until a hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of his trance. Tighnari summoned his bow and was halfway through drawing an arrow when a familiar laugh sounded.
“We went through all that just for you to shoot me on the way home? What was the point?”
Tighnari sighed exasperatedly, lowering his bow and putting the arrow back in his quiver. “That one wasn’t even good,” he lamented as he turned to the man behind him and crossed his arms.
Cyno’s eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly at the forest watcher.
“Really? I think it was right on target.”
“Bye, Cyno.” Tighnari deadpanned as he turned back to the path and continued his walk home.
“Okay, okay!” The General jogged a few steps to catch up to him, matching his pace and walking beside Tighnari. “I get it, I’ll stop. I just can’t help that I’m drawn to archery puns.” Tighnari’s answering groan was met with another grin.
“I’ll tell Collei to use you for target practice if you don’t quit it,” Tighnari warned, but the happy swishing of his tail gave him away. Cyno glanced at it, something unreadable in his gaze, then shrugged.
“I’ll take my chances. But seriously, you didn’t hear me calling you?” The forest watcher shook his head.
“I guess I was thinking harder than I thought – I didn’t hear anything. Did you need something?” He was brought to an abrupt halt as Cyno stopped in his tracks and gripped Tighnari’s wrist. “What are you–” he was cut off as Cyno held him at arm’s length, looking him over.
“Checking you for injuries. You always hear me. Did your ears get nicked in your battle?” Cyno leaned in closer to the soft appendages but didn’t touch. Tighnari wrestled down a smile at that, hoping that the pleased curl of his tail was hidden behind his back. His ears were an object of many stares and whispers, and he’d lost count of how many times people had begged him to let them touch “just for a second.”
Cyno never did that. He never asked, never reached for them, never touched without permission—permission Tighnari rarely gave.
“Tighnari?” Cyno’s concerned voice brought him back to the present, and he gave the General an apologetic smile.
“I’m fine, I promise. I wasn’t hurt. I just spaced out a little on the walk home.” Cyno frowned but let go of his wrist, the ghost of his touch setting Tighnari’s skin ablaze.
“If you’re sure.” The two fell into step beside each other again, a comfortable silence settling over them. For a few minutes, there was nothing besides the chirping of birds, the rustle of the breeze through the trees, and the sound of their footfalls upon the path.
“Why’d you come running out here anyway?” Tighnari asked after a bit, glancing over at the man beside him. Cyno’s expression was hidden by his headdress and hair, but he brushed some of the snowy white strands out of his eyes as he looked over at his friend.
“You didn’t say goodbye,” he said quietly.
The answer was like a swift punch to Tighnari’s gut. He sucked in a quiet breath, hoping against hope that Cyno didn’t hear anything.
The answer was so simple. So endearing and so perfectly Cyno. Tighnari could have kissed him for it if he possessed an ounce less self-control.
“You seemed to be having an important discussion with Cyrus. I know he means a lot to you, and you both went through a lot over the past few days,” Tighnari explained. “I didn’t want to interrupt just to tell you I was going home. I knew you’d figure out where I went soon enough.”
“You mean a lot to me too, Tighnari,” Cyno retorted, not taking his eyes off the Valuka Shuna. “I would have been fine with you interrupting. I’d planned to walk home with you; it’s dangerous out here when it’s so late.”
It was impossible for Tighnari not to laugh at that. “I’ve made this walk hundreds, probably thousands of times, and at much later hours than this. I appreciate your concern, Cyno, but I’m perfectly fine.”
“You just went through two days in the desert, which we both know wears you out faster than anything else. I wanted to accompany you home – I still do. So I will.” Cyno’s tone left no room for argument, and Tighnari simply nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.
You mean a lot to me too, Tighnari.
“I’m lucky to have such a wonderful friend,” he eventually replied, not risking a glance at his companion.
“Is that what we are?” The question was spoken so quietly, but there was no hesitance in Cyno’s voice. Tighnari was the one to stop dead in his tracks this time, and the General stood next to him.
“Of course we are,” Tighnari whispered, resisting the urge to twist his fingers into his tail – an anxious habit of his.
“Aren’t we more than that, Tighnari?” Cyno murmured, taking a step closer. “After everything we’ve been through together, don’t you think there’s a term that describes us much better than ‘friends’?”
Tighnari finally looked at the man beside him. All the air whooshed out of his lungs at the sight of those amber eyes filled with affection and gazing right at him. The normally stone-faced General wore an expression of adoration, and he took a step forward as if he were in a daze.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Tighnari all but wheezed, but he didn’t back away.
“Yes, you do.” Cyno sounded as if he’d never been more sure of something. “Come on, Tighnari. Surely you know I don’t think of you as just a friend.”
Tighnari blinked at him in shock. Sure, he and Cyno were always more affectionate with each other than with their other friends, but never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Cyno confessing to him like this. Tighnari’s words and actions were born out of a deep love, sure, but he knew – or rather, thought he knew – Cyno’s were born partially out of a sense of obligation. A duty to reciprocate the care shown to him.
Of course he cared about Tighnari. But he cared about him as a friend.
Or so Tighnari had thought.
“I most definitely did not know that,” Tighnari choked out, watching as Cyno took another step closer. They were maybe a foot away from each other now.
“I’ll make it a bit clearer, then.” Cyno smiled at him. “Tighnari, I love you.”
Tighnari’s breath would have been stolen if he hadn’t already been struggling to keep it steady. Cyno loved him? He must be hallucinating. It couldn’t be a dream; those were never as sweet as this. He stared at the other man in shock, then shook his head quickly.
“No, I think–I think you’re mistaken.” Tighnari let out an anxious laugh, ears flattened against his head. His mind was racing as fast as his heart, the two seemingly in competition. “All that talk about Hermanubis and the Tighnarians is getting to your head. You’ve never said anything like this until now. It’s okay though, we can just forget this happened and–”
“Tighnari.” Cyno’s soft voice cut him off. “No.”
Tighnari remained silent, hardly able to breathe. Strong hands gently caressed over his waist, and Cyno looked at him intently.
“I wanted you before we ever heard about Hermanubis and the Tighnarians. I've wanted you since the minute I saw you. I wanted you in every class we sat in together, in every trip to the bazaar, in every moment where you patched me up. You're my soulmate. I didn't need some ancient legend to tell me that."
Tears pooled in Tighnari’s eyes as Cyno confessed to him. He could feel thumbs tenderly swiping back and forth across his waist in a steady rhythm.
“You don’t–you don’t mean that,” he whispered with a sniffle. One last chance for Cyno to pull away, laugh it off, or blame it on getting caught up in tall tales.
Instead, Cyno took one of Tighnari’s hands in his own and gently removed the glove. Bringing that hand to his lips, he brushed a light kiss each of his knuckles and pressed it to his chest, directly over his heart.
Tighnari gasped, but he wasn’t sure if it was at the heat of Cyno’s skin or the frantically thudding heart he could now feel.
“I’d never say something I don’t mean,” Cyno murmured. “Not to you. Never to you.”
Tears cascaded down Tighnari’s cheeks, sparkling in the light from the setting sun. He sniffled and finally dared to move, curling his fingers around Cyno’s and holding on tightly.
“I’ve loved you for ages,” he found himself confessing. Cyno's grip on his hand and waist tightened, but not enough to hurt. Tighnari knew it would never bruise; it would only ever be firm enough to reassure the Valuka Shuna that Cyno was there, that he wasn't going anywhere.
“How long?” Cyno whispered, and Tighnari delighted in the fact that he made the General Mahamatra himself sound that breathless.
“Long enough to know it’s real,” Tighnari replied with a watery chuckle. “Long enough not to balk at you calling me your soulmate, because I know you’re mine, too.”
“Oh, Nari,” Cyno murmured with a soft, almost dopey smile. “My Nari.”
Tighnari’s cheeks flushed as his tail flicked behind him in both contentment and embarrassment. Cyno surged forward to kiss him, but the jackal headdress bumped against Tighnari’s face, blocking the white-haired man from locking their lips together. The Valuka Shuna let out a delighted laugh, but it died in his throat as he watched Cyno remove the headdress and throw it aside.
Oh, if that wasn’t one of the hottest things Tighnari had ever seen.
Before Tighnari could so much as gasp, Cyno’s hands came up to gently hold his face as he crashed their lips together. Tighnari’s hands flew up to the man’s chest, the feeling of warm, bare skin beneath his fingers almost dizzying. The kiss was messy, with Cyno a bit overeager and Tighnari inexperienced. Their teeth clacked together a few times, and Tighnari almost fell over when Cyno pushed against him harder.
One of Cyno’s hands slid from Tighnari’s cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer as he let out a pleased groan into the Valuka Shuna’s mouth. After a few more moments of letting Cyno all but devour him, Tighnari pulled back just enough to speak.
“Cyno, we need air.” His voice was breathier than he’d ever heard it, and his blush darkened at the sound.
“Kiss now, air later,” Cyno gasped out as he leaned in again, but Tighnari used the hand flat on Cyno’s chest to push him back. The sound that left the General could only be described as a whine, and the forest watcher laughed brightly.
“We’re in the middle of the road. Let’s finish getting home, okay?” Tighnari offered, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Cyno just hummed and leaned in to brush their noses together as his arms wrapped around Tighnari’s waist.
“I am home.”