Chapter Text
Flames. That’s all he can see. His hometown of Aedis Elysiae crumbling before his very eyes. Sweat trickles down the back of his neck as Phainon attempts to get a better grip on his blade. The rage and bloodlust that is currently seared into his bones makes it hard to focus on the figure cloaked in black.
He should have known the trial of strife would be no easy venture, but the sheer will from the now mad titan of strife would be enough to crush any normal person.
The figure surges forward, unleashing another onslaught of slashes. Phainon can feel himself start to tire.
Just how long has he been stuck in this endless loop?
Every battle he’s barely scraped by, each one leaving a mark on him. Splatters of gold and red adorn his uniform followed by torn fabrics and bent metal. He doesn’t think his blade can last much longer.
“Phainon!” A young girl calls out. His whole body freezes at the voice. He goes to call out back to her, to run, to hide, to be anywhere else but here, but the mistake of his momentary hesitation costs him everything. The figure disappears and ends up right in front of Cyrene. It grabs her by the neck, Cyrene attempts to remove its large claws and stop it from blocking her airways. She looks solemnly over towards the deliverer.
“No!” He screams, reaching out towards her, he watches as life fades from her face and she begins to disappear from its grasps.
The cloaked figure in front of him starts to distort. A man adorned in traditional Kremnoan armor steps forward and looks at him.
“You fought well, warrior.” The ringing in his ears barely allow him to hear what the thing in front of him was saying. “But, in the end, you are a victim of your past and can not let go of your bloodlust and revenge.”
“You killed her.” He growls. Phainon stumbles forward towards the man. “I won’t let you get away with this.” The blood and sweat make it hard for him to regain a proper balance with his blade. The heat of the flames sear into his back, pushing him towards the figure.
The man lets out a wicked laugh, so loud Phainon can feel it vibrating against his chest. This power could only belong to one in this domain.
Nikador.
The white haired man grits his teeth and all his eyes allow him to see is red. He uses his last ounce of strength to aim for the titan.
And he lands it, but the figure changes in front of him once more. Familiar red markings fill out the body that he has stabbed.
“O one who has failed, take this curse with you to your cycle and see the truth you wish to seek, as you are no match for strife.”
Before he can process the mad titans words. The new but familiar figure in front of him grabs the blade that Phainon has shoved into his abdomen and pulls it closer into his own injured body.
“Found you.” Mydei smiles.
-
A throbbing headache wakes Phainon. Without hesitation his hands are rubbing small circles into his temple for any kind of relief. He furrows his brows and remembers.
Right, he failed the trial.
If he hadn’t known, he would have assumed it was some sort of messed up dream. The searing pain in his chest was a dreadful reminder of what had happened. Everything from the last part of the trial is hazy. Although, the one thing he does remember is the insatiable rage that flowed through him. He never thought he would lose control, but from the lack of memories, he’s more than certain someone had to pull him out of the trial.
Phainon sighs and gets up from his bed. This wouldn’t do him any good just wallowing in his bed like this. He needed fresh air to clear his mind, while he didn’t have an exact destination, he was hoping to find a chrysos heir to help him figure out exactly what happened.
Without thinking, he ends up heading towards the baths, he hums at the idea of letting the steam ease his physical discomfort and release some of his inner conflict.
He’s about head over when he hears a set of heavy footsteps behind him. He doesn’t turn around to face the person, needing a second to mentally collect himself. The figure behind must have expected him to make the first move as well, he senses hesitation from the man behind him.
“Am I seeing things? Is the magnificent deliverer finally deigning to step outside?”
Phainon’s shoulders relax a bit at the voice and decides to play along.
“Hmph.”
He hears Mydei scoff behind him.
“Hmph? What kind of response is that?” The blonde questions.
“Nothing.” Phainon smirks and turns to face the prince. “I was just imitating your usual response.”
Mydei rolls his eyes. “And here I thought I would receive praise from you deliverer.”
Phainon raises a brow at him and laughs. “I don’t sense anything different from you, have you passed the trial of strife? Or are you implying you want me to praise you like a king?” The deliverer puts his hands in a prayer. “O lord Mydeimos, how big and strong you are! Please lord-”
Mydei goes to hit him with a playful swing. “HKS! I’m talking about me saving you from the trial.” He angrily folds his arms and looks away from Phainon, just enough for the white haired man to see the faint flush on Mydeis cheeks.
As much as he would like to keep teasing Mydei, Phainon stops. “What?”
“Hmph.” Mydei looks back at him. “All this hard work to save the precious deliverer and he doesn’t even remember. Do you recall stabbing me?”
It takes a second for Phainon to process what the prince said to him. “I’m sorry I what?”
“Has that woman told you anything?” He rubs his forehead. “Me and the outlanders went in to pull you out, Trinnon couldn’t sense your soul anymore, I-, everyone was worried so Aglaea sent us in to save you.”
Phainon thinks he stops breathing for a second. Mydei might as well have landed the punch on him.
“I-” He freezes and sighs. His cheerful facade slips slightly. “Thank you, Mydeimos.”
“Wow, that has to be the worst ‘thank you’ I’ve ever received.” The prince crosses his arms, quickly changing the subject. “How about instead we recommence our previous competition.”
Phainon falls right back into pace with him. “Oh? Is the crown prince challenging me?” The white haired man laughs. “This time, we’ll see who can stay in the super hot bath for longer!
-
Phainon finally gets relief from the steam as he presses his face on the baths floor. His hand pointing directly at Mydei, making sure that when someone finds his dead body, they’ll know the man that’s apparently ‘warm blooded’ is the culprit behind his demise.
“Just what exactly are you two doing? You’re scaring the citizens of Okhema.” Aglaea scolds and clicks her tongue. “When I heard there was something happening at the baths I should have known it was both of you. What a spectacle of folly.”
Mydei scoffs. “This is what happens when you dare to accept a challenge from a kremnoan without knowing your place.” The prince looks at Phainon on the ground and grovels. “And we will personally escort back home the customers left awestruck by our formidable presence.”
“This isn’t fair!” Phainon manages to get out in short breaths. “You are wearing way less clothes than I am!”
“Is this a new trend?” Hyacine starts. “Getting into the baths in full armor?”
Tribbie puts her hand on her forehead. “A trend for these two that's for sure.”
“Enough.” Aglaea groans. “Let’s bring this farce to a close, shall we? Warriors, it's time to get moving.”
Mydei begrudgingly starts to help Phainon stand. “Look at this, helping the almighty deliverer once again!”
Phainon uses all of his strength to finally move without the prince and makes eye contact with him. “I know I know, I’ll owe you later but please get me out of this hell hole.” Mydei chuckles and pulls him towards the exit.
Behind them, Aglaea frowns.
Tribbie notices the look on the gold weavers face. “What’s wrong Agy?”
She sighs. “Nothing teacher, there’s just something I would like to bring up Phainon, that’s all.” The demigod nods, and Aglaea prays to Mnestia that nothing is the matter.
-
Finally Phainon makes it back to his living area, as much as he enjoyed taking on the challenge from Mydei, his original plan of going to the baths to relax and clear his head took a completely different turn.
The pain in his chest still lingered and his headache is worse than it was before, but Phainon decides it was worth it. He figured out what happened during the trial and he got to spend time with Mydei. Phainon sighs and sits against his door. A small smile brushes his lips, thinking about how unfair the challenge was from earlier, Mydei had clearly wanted an easy win. He was still recovering from the trial! He couldn’t believe the prince was willing to partake in a challenge just to have one up on him!
It also wasn’t fair he had to go against a sweaty and out of breath Mydei. He couldn’t stop staring at the Kremnoan, his complaint about him wearing less clothes to win the competition was true in more ways than one.
A deep red blush fills his cheeks. He covers his own face with his hands, he needs to get ahold of himself.
Suddenly a cough causes his whole body to convulse, he manages to cough a couple of times but something is stuck in his throat. He tries to get up and make it to the bathroom, but he stumbles and coughs once again, somehow harder.
Finally, the thing causing him problems lands on the floor. The deliverer takes a second to catch his breath before eventually checking on what came out of his body.
A flower?
Panic starts to set in as he slowly and carefully checks it, picking at its red petals, making sure that an actual flower just removed itself from his body and he didn’t just imagine that. He shoves the plant in his pocket and grabs his teleslate. He's about to research his symptoms but stops himself. The last thing he needs right now is for Aglaea to know anything of his current condition, so the library is next on his list to find out information.
Quickly, he leaves his room and almost jogs there. He never thought he would be thankful that the library is close to his living quarters but he’s aware he’s currently in an unprecedented situation. In the little over a decade he’s been in Okhema, he’s never heard of another individual having anything remotely close to what he was dealing with now.
He pushes his way into the library and starts to head towards where he remembers seeing books about flowers.
“Welcome how can we- Lord Phainon?” The young woman asks in a shocked tone. She quickly clears her throat and adjusts her glasses. “Please let me know if there’s anything you need!”
Phainon flashes her a small smile. “Thank you.” He turns and flees deeper into the library. He internally curses at himself for still having his armor on, he sticks out like a sore thumb.
Just quickly try and find something then leave.
Phainon scans through the section on plants and struggles to find anything on his specific conditions. His shoulders drop at his misfortune, reluctantly he decides to go a different route and look for a different type of book. A specific one grabs his attention.
‘The Secret Language of Flowers’
He gives the book a quick look through and decides to take it with him. He assumes it will be a decent place to start with whatever was happening to him.
“I-Is this all for you today Lord Phainon?”
“Yes it is.” He says shortly.
She quickly writes his name on a slip, Phainon watches as she shakily puts a copy into his book.
“You have 42 days to return it, enjoy!” She stammers.
He’s already turned around before he gets a thank you out to the woman. He feels bad cutting conversations but the energy it takes to keep up with small talk is not something he can currently afford.
Phainon is about to make a small jog back to his door once it’s in sight but he sees a figure waiting at his door.
Aglaea.
He quickly hides his books behind his back. “Lady Aglaea! How can I help you, is something wrong?”
Her lips form a thin line. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out, can we discuss something in your quarters?”
He feels his smile falter ever so slightly. “Um sure, yeah! And I’m sorry my place is a little dirty.” He opens his door and lets the gold weaver in first.
She shakes her head and sits down on one of his chairs. “It’s alright Phainon.” The white haired man swears he can feel the woman trying to pry into his head. “You seem nervous about something, I came to check on you because I sensed a disturbance in my threads, I wanted to make sure everything was alright. You’re not in trouble, Phainon.”
His shoulders release some of the tension that he’s been holding in, and he releases a defeated sigh. “There’s really no point in hiding it from you.” He let’s out a small chuckle and reaches into his pocket and shows her the red flower.
She raises a brow. “A begonia?”
“I-” He pauses. “This came out of me, I coughed it up.”
Aglaea’s eyes widen and Phainon swears he sees a flash of horror spread over her face. “No, it can’t be.” She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Over a millennia ago, there was a common disease that plagued all of Amphoureus. The locals back then called it hanahakai, it was an affliction that Mnestia cursed humanity with as she was losing herself to the black tide. Hanahakai caused flowers to grow in people's lungs. The catalyst for the curse would be the feeling of unrequited emotions. If not treated, the flowers would grow into their lungs causing asphyxiation.”
Phainon felt his heart stop.
“I’m,” Her voice breaks. “Back then, I had lost someone close to me, seeing her progress further and further. I made a vow to seize the core flame and never curse anyone with hanahakai again.” She shudders. “It forces people into a scenario they are not ready for, people lose their autonomy of choice.” She puts her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry Phainon. I’m not sure who cursed you, but I promise you I will find out who did this to you and make them pay for what they have done.”
The white haired man puts a hand on his chest. “Aglaea,” She looks up at him. “I don’t have your golden threads or your ability to read minds, but I understand and I believe you.”
She nods. “Thank you, I will start my personal investigation as soon as possible. If I may, when did this start?”
“This happened today.” He answers.
She sighs in relief. “You’re not too far along, good, that gives me less constraints.” She gets up from Phainon’s chair. “It’s getting late, you need all the rest you can get with your condition, I’ll take my leave.”
He offers a genuine smile. “Thank you, Aglaea.”
She hums. “Rest well, Phainon.”
His eyes linger back to the begonia, that’s when he remembers the book he checked out. Without a second thought he starts to flip through the pages, thankful that Aglaea knew what flower it was, after some time, he finds the flower and reads:
The begonia is a flower that has had a negative correlation for a millennium, many cultures have used the begonia as a symbol of warning and to have caution of impending doom.