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The golden sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft glow over the vast, rolling plains. The air was warm, and the gentle breeze rustled the tall grasses, making them sway like a slow-moving sea. In this quiet moment, it was as if the world had forgotten everything, allowing time to stand still for two young souls to find themselves in each other’s company.
Achel sat with his legs stretched out, his black hair falling messily around his face, the sun’s warmth kissing his skin. He had always felt the sting of his scars, like ancient marks carved into his very soul, but in moments like this, the pain seemed to melt away. The scars on his chest and face, remnants of countless battles and brutal encounters, told a story of a life led by love and destruction. His gills fluttered ever so slightly with each deep breath, a reminder of his dual nature, that he was both warrior and water-borne son of Niellarta.
Alcarmius, the prince of Astaex, lay beside him, his golden locks a striking contrast to the dusky landscape. His pale tan skin glowed under the dying sunlight, and his hazel eyes stared out across the horizon, though his mind seemed miles away, lost in thought. He was the heir to a kingdom, a figurehead of strength and legacy, but right now, as the soft rustling of the grass enveloped them, none of that mattered. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy, lying on the plains beside Achel, unsure of what he was feeling.
Achel’s lips tugged into a subtle smirk as he glanced over at the prince. “You’re awfully quiet today,” he said, his voice a mix of curiosity and teasing.
Alcarmius shifted slightly, avoiding Achel's gaze. “Just thinking,” he muttered, his fingers running through the grass. He wanted to say something, anything to break the silence, but he didn’t know how to frame the storm of thoughts swirling inside him. He hadn’t told Achel what had been eating at him. And, perhaps, he never would.
Achel raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on one arm. “About your father? Or something else?” His tone softened as he observed Alcarmius more closely. Despite the distance between them, he could feel the tension in the air, like an unseen current under the surface. He’d always felt it, this strange pull toward the prince, but he hadn’t dared to question it. Not out loud, anyways.
“Something else,” Alcarmius answered, the edges of his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. He finally turned his gaze to Achel, his eyes meeting the dark brown depths of the other boy's. Achel’s gaze was steady, searching, yet there was something else there, something that Alcarmius couldn’t quite place.
Achel leaned back again, eyes drifting toward the setting sun. “I see.” His words lingered in the air, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. He didn’t press, but the weight of the moment seemed to shift, the air thick with unspoken words.
Alcarmius felt his chest tighten, the words he wanted to speak trapped in his throat. He had never been able to properly articulate the way Achel made him feel, how just sitting here beside him made his heart race in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just friendship, no. It was something deeper, more unsettling. But the idea that Achel might feel the same way... it felt like a dream that could easily slip through his fingers.
He swallowed, trying to steady himself. “Achel, I-”
Achel turned his head, his gaze softening, and Alcarmius’s words faltered. The way Achel looked at him, it was almost as if he could see right through the walls Alcarmius had carefully constructed around his heart. The god Dalous had always been a mystery, even to himself. He was torn between his duties as a god of love and the passions of destruction that surged within him like the unrelenting tides of the ocean that Achel’s mother, Niellarta, ruled.
“I know,” Achel said, his voice quiet now. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
Alcarmius blinked, his heart racing as Achel’s words hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. “But… I want to.”
Achel’s lips quirked upward, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “I don’t think you do.” He let out a low chuckle, trying to brush off the seriousness that had settled between them. “It’s not as simple as you think, prince.”
“I think,” Achel continued, sitting up slightly, “that we’re both afraid. Afraid of what it would mean… if we said what we really feel.”
Alcarmius’s breath caught in his throat, the truth of Achel’s words settling deep inside him. He had never been one for vulnerability, and yet… he felt it now, more than ever. The idea of being in love, truly in love with someone like Achel, someone so untamed, so wild and free… it terrified him. And yet, it also filled him with a longing he couldn’t escape.
“You think I’m afraid?” Alcarmius asked, his voice almost a challenge. “I’m not the one with scars all over his body.”
Achel met his gaze, unwavering. “Don’t mistake me, Alcarmius. I’m not afraid of the battle. I’ve fought monsters and goddesses before. I’m afraid of what happens when this-” he gestured between them, “-is no longer just a fleeting moment.”
There was a beat of silence before Alcarmius nodded slowly, his heart aching with the truth in Achel’s words.
“I guess…” Alcarmius began, his voice softer now, “I guess I don’t know what to do with it. With this… feeling.”
Achel smiled faintly, a bittersweetness in his eyes. “You’re not alone in that.” He took a deep breath, the cool breeze tugging at the edges of his short hair. “But we’ll figure it out. Even if it’s the last thing we do.”
Alcarmius’s heart clenched in his chest, the unspoken promise of Achel’s words lingering between them, unbroken. He knew, deep down, that this moment was only the beginning of something far greater than either of them could yet comprehend.
For now, they sat in silence. The quiet between them was both heavy and light at the same time. And as the night began to fall, Achel and Alcarmius, two young souls torn between fate, felt the pull of something they could not yet name.
But for tonight, it was enough to just be… together...