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Defteros had just decided to take a break from training, sitting back against the walls of the crumbling arena, when he felt the temperature around him drop by a few degrees.
He didn’t even bother looking over at the approaching presence. “What do you want, Aquarius?”
“That’s an odd way to greet a friend,” Dégel said, moving to stand in front of him. The gleam of her golden armor was almost blinding, the sun at her back haloing her form. “Especially one that came to check on you.”
Defteros snorted. “I’m fine.” He’d lived in the shadows all his life; he’d hardly needed anyone to worry over him. Besides, his burns were healing rather quickly, despite their battle with Ares’s Berserkers only a few days prior.
“Consider it a social call, then,” the Aquarius Saint responded, walking closer and seating herself next to him.
“You have plenty of other people to speak to. The other Gold Saints.”
“I don’t consider my colleagues interchangeable.” There was a note of humor in her voice. “Have you ever thought that someone might want to talk to you, in particular?”
Defteros’s brows furrowed. Dégel was a perplexing woman. He’d met her only recently, yet she had already decided to believe in him, to trust him, to reach out to him. After living in Aspros’s world for so long, alone except for his twin… this newfound companionship left him feeling lost. It wasn’t that Defteros wasn’t grateful that someone was willing to see him for who he was. He just wasn’t sure how to handle it. Or how to trust Dégel in turn.
He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but Dégel didn’t seem to mind. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.
And then, Dégel let out a soft sigh. “This is ridiculous,” she said.
Defteros looked over at her. “What is?”
“This-” she gestured between the two of them, though her masked face gave away nothing.
His confusion must have shown, because Dégel shook her head. And then, to his shock, she pulled the mask off her face and looked him directly in the eyes. Defteros tried to look away, but Dégel grabbed the sides of his face — still covered by his own mask — and held his gaze.
“It’s ridiculous that the two of us must hide ourselves like this,” she said, finally. She let go of him, turning back to stare off into the distance. “There’s no point to it.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Defteros reached up and undid his own mask, allowing it to fall to the side. He noticed Dégel glance at him from the corner of her eye, a delicate smile appearing on her face. There was no harm in this, he reasoned. They were away from the prying eyes of Sanctuary, and no one would know of their clandestine encounter. Still… this moment of exposure felt unspeakably intimate, and Defteros’s heart raced. What if someone caught them?
“It’s not as though we haven’t seen each other like this,” Dégel pointed out.
It was true. Back when they’d been trapped with the Berserkers in the arena, Dégel had removed her mask to plead with Defteros to trust her — and she had only put her mask back on after the end of the battle. But that had been a life or death situation.
“That was different,” Defteros said.
“Not so different,” Dégel replied. “I mean, when every battle could be our last…” She looked at him, her green eyes shining. “I don’t want to go to my grave in that damned mask. I want someone to remember me as I was.” She sighed. “And I don’t want you to be forgotten, either, Defteros.”
His face felt warm, suddenly, and he struggled with what to say. “That’s dire,” he responded. “I doubt either of us would disappear so easily.” It was an odd thing, trying to comfort someone else. He wasn’t sure if he could be any good at it, but something about Dégel made him want to try.
“We could have,” Dégel said, looking forward again. Her eyes seemed to trace the patterns in the walls. “If your brother had his way, we’d both be dead.”
It was then that Defteros really noticed Dégel’s wilting posture, the tiredness of her eyes and the twitch of her brow. Oh. That was it, then.
She noticed him noticing and shook her head. “I’m fine, really. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about it. Aspros treats me as cordially as he always does, but the idea that he could pull something like that so easily… well, I guess it’s difficult to relax.” She leaned her head back against the wall, eyes to the sky. “The worst part is, there’s no one I can even talk to about it. The Pope couldn’t take my word for it — no one at Sanctuary felt our Cosmos. Hardly anyone else would believe me if I told them. I wouldn’t blame them, I scarcely believe it happened, myself. And if I breathed a word of it to Kardia, I just know that oaf would do something to get himself killed…”
Dégel took a deep breath. And then, she straightened up, her expression morphing into something more neutral. “I apologize. I’m sure you’ve got it worse than I do, after all, your own brother…”
Defteros’s jaw clenched. A part of him still couldn’t believe it — that his brother would throw him away so easily. A part of him wanted to justify the experience somehow, that Aspros was only targeting Dégel, and he’d fully expected Defteros to be able to survive the encounter. But when he faced the facts… it was clear that their brotherly bond had begun to fray a long time ago. Defteros didn’t know exactly when things broke, only that they had. It was an unspeakably lonely feeling, knowing that even Aspros had abandoned him.
He refused to let that feeling break him, though. Defteros would become a man worthy of walking in the light. There was an ache in his chest even thinking that. But he couldn’t follow Aspros’s path any longer; he would not be his brother’s faithful shadow. He’d been afraid at first, but…
But Defteros knew there was already someone who believed in him.
“He was my brother,” Defteros said, shaking his head, “but all I see now is a stranger wearing Aspros’s face. The brother I grew up with would never stoop to this level. That boy is dead, now.” Even as he said those words, he could feel a tear escape. Mourning the man he would never be able to meet again.
Dégel’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
She reached out tentatively, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Though he wasn’t used to the contact, it wasn’t unpleasant. It was a little overwhelming to have someone so near, but Defteros found that he didn’t hate it. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, either, but then, he was still figuring out how to be himself.
“I must apologize again,” Dégel said. “I really had come over here hoping to have a light chat. I feel I’ve soured the mood.”
“…It’s fine,” Defteros replied. “Not like I have much basis for what a normal conversation is like.”
Dégel smiled. “You know, we’re going to have to change that.”
“It’s not like there’s anyone here willing to talk to me.”
“Then I’ll just have to come bother you when I can,” she insisted.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a good person, and I care about you?”
“That’s it?”
“Do I need some sort of complicated reason?” Dégel asked, a look of slight exasperation on her face. “Just let me be your friend, alright?”
Defteros had never heard those words before, living in shame, hidden from the world. But he realized, the tightness in his chest and the heaviness in his shoulders lifted, just a little, hearing them.
“…Alright,” he said, squeezing her hand back. “Only if I get to be your friend as well.”
Dégel grinned. “It’s a deal, then.”
Defteros’s world was growing, little by little. The idea of it would have terrified him, long ago. But today, he felt freer than he ever had. A talk between two friends… Defteros decided he ought to pick up the slack and get the conversation going in a better direction.
“What’s been happening at Sanctuary lately?”
Dégel’s eyes lit up. “You won’t believe what Regulus has been up to. That boy, I swear, he’s more nerve than sense-”
She launched into a story about the Leo Saint’s entertaining misadventures, one that left even Defteros smiling by the end. Their hands remained clasped together, and their masks lay forgotten, for a time.