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Sometimes, as he wandered the halls in Castrum Kremnos in the lulls between battle, Mydei could hear his fellow Chrysos Heirs. Aglaea’s instructions brushed through the air like a gentle breeze, her soft voice detailing his next plans; Tribbie, Trianne and Trinnon’s little giggles rippled all around him, bouncing just like they did in his wake; Castorice’s gentle whisper praised his efforts and brought him a story she had read; and Phainon… Phainon’s phantom brushes against his body and his teasing tone haunted his every move.
Mydei ached for his warmth.
He knew none of what he heard was real, but he had not seen them in so long that his mind just made it all up, perhaps in an attempt to keep him sane, as a reminder of all he was fighting to protect. He could not surrender.
Now, as he found himself laid on the ground in a pool of gold, he could hear their voices again. Back in Okhema for the first time in a year and he was dying. He knew this would be his one true death, for the Flame Reaver’s blade struck true and pierced right through his tenth thoracic vertebra. Mydei did not regret coming, he would never regret it. Not if it meant Phainon could live to see another day, that he could claim Kephale’s coreflame and start Era Nova.
He only wished he did not have to die alone, but perhaps it would spare his companions the pain if they found him dead and not dying. He wouldn’t have to explain to them that he would not be coming back because only Phainon knew where he was stabbed, only Phainon knew it was his weak spot.
Only Phainon…
Mydei could imagine the look on Castorice’s face when he showed up to her domain, this time for good. He dreaded the pain it would cause her but truly there was nothing he could do about it.
The Kremnoan knew he had perhaps a few minutes before he died and he, with great effort, turned his body over so he was facing the sky. It was red, Kephale’s Dawn Device no longer functioning, and Mydei wished he could have seen the clear blue skies of the Holy City one last time before his end. Castrum Kremnos lacked that light as well, so he had not seen brightness in so long.
His body was cold now, and Mydei had died enough times to know it was from all the blood he was losing. He was closer to the darkness now. Despite knowing his death was permanent this time, Mydei could not bring himself to feel afraid or regretful. He was resigned to this fate now, especially after Castorice said they would become the new authorities of Death and Strife, that they would take the place of the Titans. He had faith Phainon would usher in Era Nova. That he would deliver them to a new dawn.
“Mydei!”
Speak of the devil.
Mydei lacked the strength to even turn his head to the side so he waited until Phainon appeared in front of him, knelt onto his knees and leaned over him with wide eyes and a worried expression.
“Mydeimos…” He whispered.
“Become the dawn,” Mydei rasped out, barely mustering up enough power to grab Phainon’s cloak in his gauntlets tightly, “Deliverer.”
His grip went slack and his arm thudded against the ground with a dull clang. Phainon froze, his hand inches from Mydei’s face. He redirected it to the demigod’s arm and shook it but there was no response.
“Mydei, hey.” Phainon called, his tone growing increasingly distressed. Mydei’s resurrections were usually pretty quick, so why were his eyes still lifeless and why could he not feel any pulse thrumming beneath the two fingers he’d placed at his wrist. He moved them to Mydei’s neck to check the pulse there but there was nothing. “Mydeimos!”
Silence.
Phainon dropped his greatsword without a care and bundled Mydei in his arms, lifting him and searching for the source of all the blood that he laid in. His hand eventually found the wound and he blanched as he counted down his back, lips stuttering as he realised where Mydei was pierced.
“No, no, no.” He gasped, laying Mydei back down as gently as he could. “Mydei, tell me you lied about that being your weak spot, tell me you lied.”
But of course, there was no response.
The first time Phainon had seen Mydei in a year, he had to leave him and Castorice behind to deal with the Flame Reaver and now Mydei was dead. Mydei was laid on the floor after fighting the black tide alone for so long, dying and resurrecting who knows how many times, surrounded by the walls of a city he should have called his home, a city he killed his god in and one he roamed alone with no friend and no companion.
Phainon abandoned him to this fate.
He should have fought against Mydei’s decision to depart alone; he should have argued with Aglaea to be sent there at least occasionally to help Mydei; he should have… he should have done a lot. He should have told Mydei how much he truly meant to him before it was too late. Phainon never thought the day would come when the Undying Mydeimos died.
“Mydei, I’m sorry you died alone. I’m sorry you’ve been alone for this long, I –” Phainon could not even find the words to say what he wanted to say. “The Kremnoan’s are fine, I’ve been watching over them. I don’t think Aglaea would want you to know but you’re both gone now so what use is it trying to save face… she kept an eye on them as well, for you. So did Hyacine. Your people are fine, they will be fine.”
He shuddered, a deep breath shaking through his body as he exhaled a broken breath. “But I don’t know if I’ll be fine, Mydei. Everyone’s gone now, it’s just me left. You’re gone. You told me to stay alive until the final act but… I’m here now and where are you? I wish we had more time; I wish I wasn’t such a coward when it came to you.
“The truth is, I thought you were radiant from the moment I laid eyes on you. The day my blade and your fists clashed; I was done for. You caught me in your grasp and I was gone. But what’s a poor country boy from a town no one even remembers, a town erased from this world, in comparison to the last Prince of Castrum Kremnos, the Undying Mydeimos, demigod of Strife. I – did not think myself worthy of you, of your attention nor your affection, neither of which you give easily, especially not affection.
“I don’t know your feelings regarding me but I have loved you for a long time. The roles we play are lonely ones, this is something we share. I only pray I eased yours a little, that our banter and spars brought a little joy into your life. If I have succeeded in that, perhaps I was not all that hopeless.
“But here I am now, knelt by your dead body, holding your unbreathing form in my arms and I wish I could hear your voice one more time, I wish you could insult me one more time, I wish we could fight one more time, Mydeimos. I will see you in our next life, in that library you told me about.” Phainon pursed his lips, tasting salt from a tear that slipped down his cheek and wiping it away in a rush, roughly.
At the last second, he noticed the little braid Mydei always has done in his hair is unravelling and a frown appears on his face. Silently, he reached out and removed the cuff holding it together, weaved it back into a braid and slipped the cuff on before leaving the courtyard. As soon as he was out of sight, he braced himself against the wall and let the sobs shake his body.
Even in death, he cannot let Mydei see him be weak.