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After Mydei leaves, Phainon takes a night off from his duties. Sitting by himself with a bottle of wine, he reminisces.
When and how had he fallen for the Kremnoan Prince, even knowing of the duties he had to follow afterwards?
He remembered their first meeting. Phainon had been sent to deal with the Castrum Kremnos people, either by force or by convincing the prince to join their cause as a Chrysos Heir. He did not understand why Aglaea had sent just him and his small force to deal with them, but alas, she knew better than him, and Tribbie had probably helped.
The kremnoan started fighting back as soon as they saw them approaching. They were far stronger than Phainon anticipated, but he was still putting them down easily - mostly making them faint, not wanting to kill possible allies. Apparently the kremnoans had the same orders as he watched his men fall but not bleeding out, for what he was relieved.
As he moved across the battle field, he spotted him, the Kremnoan Prince. Their eyes locked for a second, and Phainon shivered. Bloodlust was written all over his eyes which sparkled in the afternoon light. That man was clearly the strongest in his army, and seemed to be a worthy opponent. And he seemed to have thought the same of Phainon, as he simply pushed his current opponent down with a couple fingers, walking his way.
“So, general of Okhema, what is it that you want if you are not killing my men?” The man's voice was strong and firm, a hint of mockery easily coming out in his tone.
Phainon easily smiled at him, hiding his unsureness. “I dislike killing, especially the innocent like this. I'd much prefer if we solved this through a duel, just you and me. Winner takes the prize.”
“You think you can actually beat me, Okhenian?” The prince snorted, clearly amused.
“Oh I am absolutely sure I can beat you, your majesty. I'm here to deliver Aglaea’s will as a Chrysos Heir. And I’m from Aedes Elysiae.” Phainon kept a big grin on his face, even though he was annoyed by the tease.
The prince approached him, glaring. “I have spoken to her before and I still have no interest of joining her cause.”
“Well, you can always refuse dueling me then, since you lack confidence in winning after all. My condition is that if I win, you will listen to her proposal and cooperate with your people.” Phainon didn't move, even as the prince stopped right in front of him, his piercing eyes trying to read his soul.
“When I beat you, Deliverer, you will make sure to ask her not to bother me or my people anymore, and leave us in peace at last.” The Prince said after a moment of intense thinking.
“The name is Phainon, your Majesty. I agree with your terms. Let us duel until one of us isn't standing anymore.” Phainon offered his hand to Mydei to shake.
The prince, however, only glared at the extended hand and turned his back to Phainon. “Until you are not standing anymore, Deliverer.”
Phainon felt quite angry at the bad attitude of the other, and was definitely decided to make him surrender on the first round. He picked up his great sword as the prince grabbed his spear. And then they were at each other as two feral beasts fighting.
On the first day, they were clearly testing the skills of each other, figuring out openings and weaknesses, finding barely any ground. They were clearly tied.
On the second day, Phainon thought he finally found a breach on the Prince’s defense, only to get unarmed by him and have to bravely fight to get his sword back. And then they were back to square zero. Obviously, a tie.
The Prince was quite more aggressive on the third day, seemingly not believing they were still going at it for so long. Even so, Phainon’s defensive stance didn't leave him any breaches, and they clashed over and over again for no mutual gain.
By the fifth day, both armies were happily making bets and complimenting each other's leaders, finding both of them very inspiring. They even began exchanging battle experiences and stories.
Phainon was tired of just fighting the whole day by the sixth day afternoon. So he decided to start teasing. “Getting tired already, your Majesty? Haven't landed a hit on me for a few hours already.”
The Prince snorted. “Mydeimos. Save your spit, Deliverer, as I am saving my hits for when they actually matter. Unlike you, who can't get past my spear.” He smirked.
Phainon couldn't help but smirk back at the other. “Oh sure, Mydei, you can keep pretending that's true to yourself.” He moved forward, making an aggressive hit against Mydei, who simply side stepped with an amused laugh.
“Mydeimos. You have no right of giving me a boring nickname.” He snorted.
“Oh? If you can't bring me down today, I guess I will call you Mydei forever.” Phainon beamed at the annoyed man.
Huffing, Mydei tried attacking for once, and was also easily dodged by the other. “Fine. But when I do, I will you make you give me all the pomegranate juice you have on those fancy carts.”
“Deal!” Phainon kept grinning, even more as neither of them fell that day yet again, which got him the right to call Mydei as such.
During the seventh day they bantered much more during their fight, clearly amused and enjoying it deeply. For the ones watching, it seemed like they were playing with each other, even though the intent to win was still clearly there.
By the ninth day, finally Phainon disarmed Mydei properly, kicking his lance out of reach. He thought that would solve the matter fully… but to his chagrin, the prince was clearly very skilled with his fists, being able to even block his sword with only his armor and speed. And soon enough, he saw himself also swordless, their duel reduced to a fist fight.
In the tenth day, Phainon was kicked down and dropped to the ground in the late afternoon. Mydei thought he would finally win, but he was brought down along with the other, and they both ended up in losing positions. Staring at each other, they suddenly started laughing, rolling sideways to leave the other be, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, dirt and bruises.
“Shall we call this a tie and end this, Mydei?” Phainon suggested, sitting up and offering Mydei a hand to do the same.
This time, after a moment, Mydei took it, sitting up. “Very well, Deliverer. How will our terms fare in this case?”
“You may come to Okhema and hear Aglaea's proposal… and your people shall remain safe and be left in peace in the meanwhile. Would that be enough compromise?”
Mydei clearly didn't want to accept it, looking at his people happily drinking with the Okhema’s army. He sighed. “Fine. I will speak with Aglaea and give her my conditions.”
Phainon smiled, relieved this was over. “Great. Deal. I'm starving… how about a feast?”
Mydei got up with a snort, offering a hand to Phainon to assist him up. He took it, really using the Prince’s arm as support and was not surprised that he didn't even budge. Though he was surprised they ended up staying quite close to each other, and all they did was stare for a moment before stepping away, letting their men know of their decision.
During the banquet, Phainon learned that the Kremnoan people were quite friendly and good and bantering and drinking. They had more than enough food for everyone, and they clearly enjoyed telling tales of their own to the Okhema's men.
He heard tales of Mydei's past endeavors, and was quite unable to not stare at the man who was sitting down at the head of the table with his glass constantly filled with pomegranate juice. He had a quite harsh growing up environment, and the people's full support even though he did murder their previous king.
At some point, an older Kremnoan citizen sat next to Phainon, clearly drunk. He petted the boy's back and filled his glass with wine, laughing. “Boy, you did so good! Will you now propose to Lord Mydeimos, since he did not murder you yet?”
Phainon choked on the wine he was sipping, utterly confused by the men's words. “What do you mean, sir?”
“His father and mother got engaged just like this. They dueled for ten rounds for the king’s crown, and as they couldn't reach victory, they ended up marrying at the end.”
Phainon chuckled, finding the story amusing. “I'd much sooner challenge him for another duel than marry that obnoxious man.”
He heard a huff then, and watched as Mydei sat on his other side. “You'd lose now. Drinking alcohol makes the mind and body weaker, Deliverer, you should know that.”
“I could still defeat you even if I drank more than the three glasses I have, Mydei.” Phainon grinned at him, challenging.
Their exchange just made the older man laugh even more, giving Phainon his bottle and slapping his back hard. “That's a good boy, even giving nicknames to our King already! Do not forget to invite me to the wedding party later!”
“Go take a nap, old Hector! I shall not wed anyone in this life, much less such a weakling.” Mydei glared at the elder who walked away still laughing, drinking more of his juice.
“Bold of you to call me a weakling after being unable to defeat me.” Phainon chuckled, shaking his head “How about some arm wrestling for me to prove how I can still be a good match even after a couple drinks?”
Mydei grinned, clearly sure he'd win. “You will be serving me the whole night if you lose, Deliverer.”
“Alright. If you lose, you are having some wine with me.” Phainon moved to position himself across the Prince, elbow on the table and arm lifted.
Mydei rolled his eyes in answer, removing the armor from his hand before grabbing Phainon's. “Very well. Do your best, Deliverer.” He grinned.
And so Phainon did, pushing against Mydei with all his will. To no avail. They were yet again evenly matched, but it seemed that the Prince had a stronger grip than Phainon did as he was holding his ground much more easily.
Maybe, and only maybe, Mydei was right about the alcohol being an issue though. Phainon caught a single sweat drop from Mydei’s forehead, and followed it down his face. His mind realized what a handsome man that was sitting across from him, from his golden, intense eyes, to the strong features of his nose and lips… but then the drop kept going down, and he realized how the tattoos on Mydei's chest made them seem even bulkier than during their fight, which also led him to look at the firm biceps that was contracted, with even a vein popping… and that was enough of a distraction to make Mydei suddenly push, dropping his hand to the table.
When Phainon lifted his eyes to stare at Mydei in disbelief, the other man had a knowing smirk on his face, which made him lightly blush and look away with embarrassment.
“Guess who was all almighty and now will have to keep my glass full for the night, huh?” Mydei chuckled, amused. “Will you really say it wasn't the alcohol's fault, Deliverer, that your mind slipped away from a challenge?”
Phainon could see the underlying meaning of Mydei's words, giving him an easy way out for his thirsty staring. Which he would gladly take. “I will have to admit you are right for the first time ever, Lord Mydeimos. Blasted alcohol and my wandering mind. What is it that you are drinking anyway?”
“Pomegranate juice. Be nice and add some milk to it whenever you pour me a new cup.” He grinned, waving his empty glass right under Phainon's nose.
It was a long night. But Phainon didn't mind it, as he could notice Mydei's eyes following him even when his glass wasn't empty at all.
Phainon wondered if he had fallen there already. But he concluded that no, he hadn't. He still found Mydei mostly irritating and interesting, and handsome. The feelings then weren't of love. Not yet, at least.
In the end Mydei had returned to Okhema with him, and talked to Aglaea properly. As Phainon watched him leave, she approached him with crossed arms.
“You had quite the effect on the Prince. He agreed in joining our cause, with the only condition of not taking any of the core flames.” She mentioned.
“Me? Why do you say that?” Phainon asked with raised eyebrows.
“He didn't even try negotiating the other times I tried reaching him. Now he did. And seemed quite satisfied about it even. Let's see how this improves our chances.” She pets his back, stepping away.
Phainon thought she was wrong back then. But after all this time, he wonders if he did have an influence on Mydei's decisions back then.