Work Text:
Taph was disappearing.
Parts of his fingertips, once fully-formed structures, now fluttered away at the wind—grain by grain, until there would be none left of him. With how his body was composed of bound ash and tar, destiny knocked on his mortality, prophecizing a being to mar.
Dusekkar concluded the non-human features were proof of an explosion; perhaps a curse casted by anti-demonlitionist preachers, or the subspace tripmine's corrosion. Entrapped since the contract. Taph only nodded along, his hands picking apart Dusekkar's antler's stray edges.
Whether it be the Specter's or simple biology's doing, the pair could only await for the fate brewing. Countless times had Dusekkar wrangled spells to repair the condition before it escalates, hunched posture instead of the usual straight; sleepless with no debates. Taph smiled at him. Scarred, mangled, barely forming a mouth—Taph wanted to show Dusekkar he is grateful.
Thus, he signed, "You like everything I've given you. I have one more present, would you like it too?" Bewildered, Dusekkar observed his lover, deciphering the message delivered. Taph looked... content. With his hood down, he resembled not of the sly battleground trapper; but a man seeking peace he already obtained.
Taking note of Dusekkar's pause, Taph leaned in closer. He lead their hands to intertwine. Dusekkar's glowing, swirling magical scars were extinguished by the traces of ash Taph left behind. However, Dusekkar ignored that endeavor. "Of course, my strongest force."
Taph jumped up. Their personal cabin was a mess but no match to Taph's powress. He tied his mask, tucked his head-wings in his hood, wings fluffed and animated—in such haste, Dusekkar was outpaced. Dusekkar stayed sat, gazing at Taph, urging himself to divulge in another chat. Although, Taph was warmth itself, so lively; who knows when will be the last time this reaction would grow?
"Follow me." Taph set down both of their respective pairs of shoes, crouching to tie on his. Dusekkar groaned as he trailed after Taph, stifling a reckless laugh.
Arm-in-arm, they traversed through the lobby's corners, with Dusekkar wholly enchanted by Taph's charm. Noob greeted them once in the main cabin, asking if they needed anything. Taph's demeanor changed in an instant. He blocked Dusekkar's line of sight, signing something to Noob, which Noob whispered back to. Giggles filled the air as Taph rustled with his robe. They exchanged a nod, whispers dying. Taph half-bowed in farewell and led Dusekkar out.
Without his own acknowledgement, Taph excelled at teamwork—as Dusekkar could deduce from that kind of moment. Where he shied away in the past, now babbled on with others like he had a blast. Taph amazed Dusekkar. Not in how he acted, but the lengths he'd crawl through to improve.
Dusekkar would miss that ember. Burning burnt so bright as a setting flame he could remember.
Taph knocked on Dusekkar's chest. "Are you okay?" His frame was much smaller than usual, hunched together in worry, side-stepping to get a better view of Dusekkar. "You can tell me anything."
For how long will I be able to? For how long until I could no longer hold you?
Those words almost seethed through Dusekkar's tongue—already woven, yet caught at the tip to be hung. Impulsive. Dusekkar wasn't the type to go for such a shift.
Why did these topics seem so easy to lift?
Dusekkar needed to shake off his frustrations. But not like this. Not to Taph, who faced the day with his ambitions.
"Splendid, as if I've ascended."
Taph snorted and motioned at Dusekkar's levitating form in disbelief, re-hooking an arm around him, pointing towards shore. "If you're sure." He stared into Dusekkar's face one more time. "Then let's go."
The waves sloshed mere centimeters past it's usual resting line—as if they were reaching the pair—frolicking with the cool breeze that crept up Dusekkar's spine. They twinkle as light from Dusekkar's flaming orb enveloped the space, brightening alongside Taph's face. "Just like the stars." Taph commented, "I miss them. I wish they still peeked through."
Taph slacked down on the dock's wooden railing. Water bit at his robes, golden edges illuminating the same radiance the waves carried, before snuffing out to a pale, darker yellow. It'd be an inconvenience to clean. Yet Dusekkar accompanied him to lean. "Existence relies not on the state of 'being'..." He drowned in Taph's gaze, unsure if this philosophy would set ablaze. "But from the witness agreeing.
"You, who stitched the constellations on your garments—" Taph's star embroidery were so, so real underneath his touch, "—have perserved them as more than a thought, but as real elements." Taph prided himself in his talent of learning each skill involving string, such as: the guitar, embroidery, crochet, or anything else under Noob's educating wing. Said it to be similiar to fiddling with a subspace tripmine's spring. When Taph mentioned a gift, he expected Taph's usual habits to not drift.
Then Taph pulled out a wood carving knife. Then, Dusekkar couldn't predict how the moment would end.
"I just..." Taph dropped the knife on his lap, continuing, "Thank you; they were exhausting to work on but was worth it. I just thought of when you wanted to improve your staff. And how you were too busy to. So let me do this. For you." He held out both his damaged palms open to Dusekkar, requesting to take care of his most prized item.
For the first time in these bitter rounds' eves, Dusekkar accepted ease. "What would this entail? Which deeds of mine could, in comparison to yours, scale?" He shifted, their sides rubbing against one another, withdrawing the staff until Taph gripped it.
"Your... hard-work. You cared, so... I don't know the words!" Taph skiddled a step away, embarrassed. With his back turned from Dusekkar, Taph worked away at carving patterns. Patterns which he learnt Dusekkar adored. He's familiar with the mage's tendencies; the way he'd subtlety hint at what he wanted, and the way Dusekkar carried his regret. The same way Dusekkar held Taph lately. Therefore, he engraved what Dusekkar wants and what he'll learn not to regret.
Taph.
Or something to remember him by. A few winged stars intertwined with spiraling clouds.
It's a selfish thought, he scolded his urges. To withold himself a level with Dusekkar's beloved staff. But isn't he, too, Dusekkar's love?
Maybe he didn't want to be forgotten after all. Taph grew addicted to the attention Dusekkar gave, and to think it'll follow him even outside this hell? It's intoxicating. It's intolerable. If Dusekkar didn't want reminders of Taph, then he'll fix it. String some connections, beholding social power. He could fix anything—just not Taph.
Thump, thump; a pain bursts through Taph's chest. His heartbeat screeched despite the fact that Dusekkar was humming a patient tune. He scratched and scratched and—
Crack!
A chunk of his pointer finger. Ruptured from pressure. Scattered amongst sand. He could count the pieces, gather them up again, and pretend. Pretend he had hope. Instead, he diverted back to his earlier focus.
"Has there been an issue, my dear?" Dusekkar towered over Taph, a hand on his shoulder meant to cheer. The black shards dulled the sand; despite the darkness, it was clear. A damage so severe. "May you need assistance, then here—"
Taph stopped Dusekkar's hand mid-air. "No. Stop." As Dusekkar sat down again, Taph tilted to face him, staff hidden. "Let me do this, okay? You've done enough. It's for you." He set his hand on his mask as a faux giggling motion. Dusekkar nodded and resumed his song, wishing Taph would—in his mind—chant along.
The staff lied in a sea of wooden scraps made of itself. Much like a certain man. Though he presented it to its partner-in-crime in hopes it'll satisfy. "Look, it's just like us." He pointed towards the patterns amidst the staff's lower end.
Dusekkar had snuggled up to Taph by then. Holding him as if he'd, piece by piece, mend again. And he knew, each carving sent his passion to renew. "Like us," he muttered, heart making a fuss.
What Dusekkar didn't know was that he'd hold Taph again in the future. Robes folded—empty, as if its touch would heal him like a suture. Yet he hummed into it once more, caressing the carvings on his staff, longing for the partner that saw his core.
Taph, who had disappeared.