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Cid and Nero were still developing the Tycoon.
Helvus hated everything about this job already. The sweltering heat, the brilliance of the sun as it made his golden hair feel like his head had been set on fire. He had crossed the salt many times as a child, it was a favored vacation destination for his mother. Hero had never lost contact with the friends he’d made in Tural, the Vow of Reason and the Vow of Resolve welcomed him like another sibling; and they welcomed Helvus in turn as they would a beloved nephew.
That was why he’d agreed to follow young Wuk Lamat in this timeline, he was still trapped here out of sync with his own time until the Tycoon was complete. When the incident that displaced him happened, he was freshly gendered and had just seen his twenty-second summer. Now five whole years had passed of him pretending to be the Warrior of Light, pretending to be his mother in a timeline where Eros had never been sundered at all.
Eros, in fact, was currently rehabilitating the three other surviving unsundered while introducing the souls that had been trapped inside Zodiark to the modern world. He had a job to do, and he was doing it with patience and care the way an Azem ought to. Loki was with them as well, the old dragon happier than he’d been in countless years with his family back together again. Helvus didn’t resent them for having their happy ending, he’d worked too hard to give it to them.
Now he just needed to bide time until he could return to his own family. His three loving parents, his three messy siblings, and the blade of responsibility dangling over his head to become the Crown Prince and future Emperor of Garlemald. The thought brought bile up his throat and he forced it back down. It was just another duty to uphold. Return home to a star that expected him to be everything his parents were and more, take the crown, have heirs, and try not to fuck everything up.
“Helvus. Helvus? Are you alright? Your emotions keep cycling between exhaustion, hopelessness, and anxiety. Are you sure you want to be here?” Krile’s voice snapped him out of his daze, just in time for the Promises to walk out. “You can wait back in the cabin if the weather is too much for you.”
He’d long since told the scions about his past, his reality, and his travels. They had accepted him, even going so far as to stand by him when he saved Asahi from Fandaniel and Zenos from himself. Which meant Krile was well aware Helvus couldn’t stand the heat. He grew up in Garlemald, in snow and ice, and felt most comfortable when you could toss a cup of hot water in the air and watch it freeze before it hit the ground. Her habit of reading his emotions was annoying, but he’d lived with his family his whole life, and they could be so much worse.
“Hn, I’m fine.” He stood upright again, trying to give himself a more regal bearing, even with his lopped ears hiding in his curtain of golden hair. Only to remember people told him he looked like a dead ringer for Zenos when his ears were down, so he had to remind himself to slouch a little. There was only so much you could do to not look like your equally massive parent when you were over seven fulms tall.
“If you say so, here they come.”
The promises walked out, one after another, and Helvus watched dutifully. Seeing them all so young was almost charming. They were all older and grown into their roles in his time. Koana was young and stubborn, Bakool Ja Ja was leaning into his fearsome reputation and posturing, Wuk Lamat was brash and foolish…
Then there was Zoraal Ja.
He’d never seen Zoraal Ja unaltered before. In his timeline, the former first promise was massive and bioluminescent. His actions in Alexandria had left permanent scars on his body, and he had never figured out how to undo his transformation. He was a two-headed Mamool Ja without a second head, just a glowing neck stump where his twin should have been. He wasn’t bitter anymore, at least, not like he had been before. Bakool Ja Ja and him were even in some kind of relationship.
Here though? Krile mumbled something about a darkness inside him, and Helvus cut her off. “You said the same of Zenos, and you said it about me a few times too. I think you’re just hypersensitive to depression.”
“I suppose you might be right. I suppose he feels the same to me as Zenos and Fandaniel did, maybe that is why it gives me cause for concern.” The Lalafell smiled up at him and Helvus found himself smiling back in return. “It would seem like he’s under a lot of pressure, I can’t imagine it would be pleasant for everyone to look up to you as a miracle.”
Helvus thought back to his own home life. The son of the Warrior of Light and the Monster of Garlemald. Eldest Prince. Future Legatus Augustus. Future Emperor. All the expectations everyone had dangled above him while he stood in the shadow of giants, unable to escape from the legacies that came from being the child of a man who literally saved the entire star thrice. “I think I’d like to talk to him sometime.”
“I-” She froze mid thought for a moment and squinted at him before smiling softly, “yes, I suppose you would.”
He didn’t get the chance to speak to Zoraal Ja until after they had fought Valigarmanda.
Helvus always felt more alive in a fight. Like a spark of levin that filled his entire body and brightened his whole world. His ears, usually prone to resting at the sides of his head, always stood upright in battle. He was told watching him fight was fearsome, even if he wasn’t using a normal weapon like most did. Although Helvus had joined the Gladiator’s guild and learned the art of fighting as a Paladin would, he barely used his sword. Instead Helvus fought with a large Garlean-made Tower Shield, the weapon itself having a ranged component that made it similar to a gun. Sure he could hold a blade in his off-hand and fight like a Paladin, but Helvus would rather fight like his grandsire, Varis, and be the shield of his people.
If only because he was prone to bloodlust and it was way easier to control when your weapon of choice wasn’t a blade.
He’d only meant to make sure Zoraal Ja had been alright, during the battle the taller Mamool Ja had been close to taking a mortal blow and unthinking, Helvus used a Paladin art to cover him- taking the hit himself and continuing to enjoy his bloody dance. However, Zoraal Ja seemed offended by Helvus’ very existence. “I did not need the help of some overgrown Shetona with a savior complex! I am the First Promise, I am the miracle! If I cannot fight these battles alone, then what am I good for?”
Helvus froze, wordless. If he was his mother he’d laugh it off, maybe come up with some casual teasing quip. His mother had never felt the weight Helvus carried though, didn’t know the burden his deeds had placed on his own son. Instead Helvus frowned and looked away from Zoraal Ja’s bitter gaze, “actually I had wanted to ask if you’d like to talk about it over some tacos? You seem like you’re under a lot of pressure, but it was nice to fight by your side.” The words felt awkward coming out of his mouth. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying.
Which is why he was more confused when Zoraal Ja was sitting with him at a table outside of Aunt Tii’s, eating the food Helvus had bought and grumbling at him about how he couldn’t possibly understand. “You’re just some adventurer, free to do as you please. Some of us have plans. Responsibilities.”
“Twelve, I wish I felt free like that. I feel like I’m a big bird in an awfully small cage on the best of days. I wear titles that don’t fit me, like a child putting on their parent’s hat and pretending to be them. I still wish my parents had just arranged a marriage for me, trying to find time to do all my responsibilities, train to the brink of exhaustion for battle, and then pretend to be a person long enough to find a suitable companion…” His nose wrinkled as he glared at his plate. Still unable to make eye contact with the fierce prince, “I wish sometimes that I had ordinary parents. That no one expected anything of me. It’s like I’ve constantly got this weight on my back and I have to learn how to either carry it always or let it crush me. Some days I just want it to crush me so I can stop pretending.”
Helvus looked up to finally see Zoraal Ja staring at him, taco halfway to his mouth, as if the Promise, the Miracle, was seeing him for the first time. “Tell me, what do you do then? When the weight is so heavy that you want it to finally crush you?”
“I lie.” Helvus could only give a cold bitter smile that would never reach his eyes, “I lie and tell everyone I’m fine, until I start to believe it again. It hasn’t failed me yet, but it’s only a matter of time until it does, and I’m a little afraid of what will happen when the lie catches up to me.” Their table was quiet after that, neither of them speaking to each other as they ate, surrounded by the noise and excitement of the rest of the city.
That was the last time Helvus got the chance to talk to Zoraal Ja alone before the invasion of Alexandria.
Helvus knew what the timeline needed to look like before he could return home. Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja’s relationship was blossoming slowly. Zenos and Asahi were a couple. Varis was recovering from being Anima with Regula, his husband, at his side. Everything was in its place. Helvus could go back home now that the Tycoon was finished, back to his own timeline, seven years older and maybe a little wiser.
However he couldn’t explain the emptiness inside him as he settled back into his old life. Wake up, morning drills, be groomed as a future legatus, have lunch, afternoon lessons on politics and law, spend time in the courtyard staring at the snow as if it would speak back to him and fill him with purpose again, dinner with the family, go to bed. The days blended together and the more Helvus tried to ignore the hole inside him, the larger it got.
He was almost thankful when his dad accidentally hit him in the jaw during a practice spar. At least it broke up the monotony. “His reflexes are usually better than that.”
Mother, Hero, was yelling, furious that father had actually hit him. Dad, Zenos, was panicking too, he’d never wanted to hurt his own children, never wanted to give them a reason to fear him like the rest of the star did. Only his father, Asahi, was actually talking to Helvus. “Is everything alright?”
“No.” Helvus knew better than to try to lie to his Father, “no I don’t think it is. I think I want to go back.”
The yelling stopped as all three of his parents focused on him, “Hel,” Hero started, his mother’s eyes full of concern, “you said you hated being the Warrior of Light.”
“I do, but I think I hate this more. I’ve never asked myself what I wanted before, I just did what I was supposed to do. Now that I’m back here? I think I hate having to live up to all these expectations more, this monotony is going to kill me before I’ll ever see the throne.” He laughed a little, almost giddy to finally say it out loud. “I don’t know what I want.” He smiled up at his three parents, almost happy to see the concern on their faces as they looked helplessly between each other.
He had finally let the weight crush him, and it felt fantastic to get it off his chest.
For nearly an entire week, no one left him alone. He couldn’t really blame them either. Madness ran in the family, and Helvus knew he was capable of causing a lot of damage if he’d truly lost his mind. No one knew what to do with him yet, and the eldest prince wanted to preen proudly at finally being a problem his mother couldn’t solve.
Eventually Zenos sat beside him, his dad being the only one who probably could empathize with Helvus’ condition. “Have you decided what you want to do?”
Helvus shook his head, “no, but I have some ideas, I just worry it’d cause some problems for my siblings if I just abdicated my position and fucked off elsewhere.”
“Helvus, you aren’t the only prince, and hells knows I wouldn’t force any of my children to take the crown. You have two other brothers who are perfectly capable.”
“One and a half. Tenzen hardly counts, his echo gives him the ability to hide in plain sight and he refuses to even look at a crown if he can help it.” Hel actually envied his younger brother a little on that front, the ability to make everyone around you collectively forget you were even there looked like a gift to someone who stood out in a crowd no matter where he went.
“Two.” Zenos smirked a bit though, “Where were you happiest, if I might ask?”
Helvus knew the answer, the words coming out of his mouth before his mind could catch up. “Tural. I was happiest in Tural during my travels, because I finally met someone who knew how I felt inside. I just don’t see a point in returning there now, my Zoraal Ja is not this timeline’s Zoraal Ja, and he’s happily married to Bakool Ja Ja anyway. There’s no room for me in his life, and the bonds I formed while I was displaced didn’t carry over to this timeline.”
“If you never try, the answer will always be no, Helvus.” His dad smirked at him, “and I know I didn’t raise a coward. Take your time, enjoy your travels, and find where you belong. We will support you, no matter how far you go.”
Two summers of courtship later, Helvus found himself resting comfortably on the cool broad chest of the half-transformed Zoraal Ja of his timeline, Bakool Ja Ja grumbling about having to leave the bed and their shared viera-shaped space heater behind. Helvus’ body ran a few degrees warmer than most spoken, and to a cold blooded lover like Zoraal Ja, sometimes heaven was letting his always-warm bunny rest on his chest, where he could absorb Helvus’ warmth in blissful comfort.
Helvus had found where he belonged, and he planned to stay here as long as possible. Zoraal Ja teased one of his ears with a single claw, “Helvus, Sphene wanted to meet up for coffee this morning, remember?” Or at least five more minutes.