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“This is quite the predicament…” says Phainon to himself.
He must make quite the odd sight, a full grown man and bonafide Chrysos Heir of the legendary prophecy, squatting here for several minutes in front of a clump of bushes a little outside Marmoreal Market with a couple of children draped over his back and peering over his shoulders.
The reason?
“Come on out now, little one. See? I mean no harm.”
The chimera hiding in the bushes merely peeks at him warily once again from amidst the foliage.
The girl clinging on to his left shoulder sighs and tugs on his cape. “Maybe we should just try picking it up. Lord Phainon, you must be fast enough to catch it if it tries to escape, right?”
“Lord Phainon knows what he’s doing!” exclaims the boy on his right, the volume of his voice making the frightened chimera retreat further into the shrubbery.
“Aeson, you dummy! You scared it!” whisper shouts the girl, and the boy cringes, trying to argue back but Phainon cuts that short.
“It’s alright, kids,” says Phainon, hoping to soothe the two upset children as well as the upset chimera. “We just need to be calm and patient, he’ll come to us eventually. He’s not running away yet.”
The chimera whimpers in the bushes.
The girl drops back down onto Phainon’s shoulder, tiny hands curling into his coat again.
“Should I go ask Aunty Demetria for fruit? It should come out for food?”
“But Lord Phainon already offered it some grapes,” reminds the boy; indeed, the little creature had not budged even with Phainon dangling his freshly-bought grapes from the market that he had been returning with before stumbling into this situation.
“Maybe it just doesn’t like them! I’ll look for something else!” One set of hands detach from Phainon and footsteps patter off.
Phainon pulls out his teleslate, considering texting for help. Miss Castorice - even if she regrettably wouldn’t be able to physically assist in the extraction of the frightened chimera, she may have some suggestions that could prove useful.
Professor Anaxa’s expertise and interest seemed limited to dromases - at least as far as Phainon was aware - and he wasn’t exactly keen on disturbing the man for a matter such as this when he wasn’t even sure it would be fruitful.
The other Chrysos Heirs were also out of the question- oh! He nearly forgot, Hyacine was currently in Okhema! She was always so busy, but he’d try not to take too much of her time.
The patter of returning footsteps makes him pause though, putting away his teleslate to take the large, round fruit being pushed at him.
“Here! We can try this.”
“Pomegranate?” muses Phainon out loud. He has seen the chimeras nibbling on grapes before but he does not know enough about the details of chimera diets to be certain of anything else that is safe for them to consume. “Are we sure this is alright for chimeras to eat? Their stomachs aren’t the same as a person’s, after all.”
“Don’t worry, I asked Aunty Demetria,” says the girl, crossing her arms proudly. “She said they can eat all kinds of fruit.”
“That was very clever, thank you.” The little girl beams and Phainon turns his attention back to the chimera.
He splits and then carefully places the fruit on the ground, exposing the juicy seeds inside to the chimera.
The children cheer in a hush when the creature cautiously crawls out, its nose twitching as it approaches the fruit.
Phainon lets it take a few nibbles before scooting closer, settling down to sit cross legged and leaning back when the chimera looks up, fear in its eyes and its ears pressed back to its head.
The children are pressed to his back with bated breath, and he’s sure a few passersby are definitely looking at the odd spectacle with some judgement.
However, Phainon is focused on his task, carefully and slowly extending a hand towards the chimera that is now nibbling at the pomegranate seeds.
The chimera tenses when it notices, and Phainon lowers his hand to rest on the ground beside it.
The chimera looks between his face and his hand a few times before cautiously turning its nose from the pomegranate to Phainon’s fingers, snuffling at them cautiously.
Phainon can’t help but grin when it gives a small yip before turning its attention back to the fruit.
“Looks like it’s alright with me now.”
Amidst the quiet oohs of the children, Phainon once again raises his hand and rests it on the chimera, which immediately stiffens under his touch.
“There, there.” Phainon says quietly, gently petting the chimera’s fur. Predictably, after a few seconds where it stays frozen and stiff beneath his palm, it eventually arches its back into his touch and lets out a soft awoo.
Phainon collects it carefully before it can change its mind, scratching behind its ear to keep it at ease while he turns to the two awestruck looking children.
“Can we pet it?” asks the girl, her hands rising even as she asks.
Phainon gives her an apologetic smile. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now given that it’s ill. How about this,” he says when the children’s faces fall. “I’ll take this little one to the Garden of Life and have Miss Hyacine check him out. If it’s nothing contagious and it is well enough in a day or two you can come visit it there.”
They brighten up. “Okay!”
“I’ll bring snacks for it!”
Phainon chuckles. “Wonderful.”
He waves the children off before taking his teleslate out of his pocket once again to ask Hyacine where she currently is.
...........
Phainon arrives at the Garden of Life to find Hyacine in what appears to be a routine check-up of the chimeras.
Several of the little creatures are lined up, waiting their turn politely as Hyacine nods along to a series of awoos from the one at the head of the line, jotting down its…complaints? on a pastel pink clipboard covered in cute chimera stickers.
Little Ica, who is fluttering around a foot behind Hyacine, is the first to spot Phainon.
“Doot! Doot-doot!”
“Hello there, Ica,” greets Phainon with a smile as the tiny rotund pegasus flies at him, nudging its nose against his arms waiting for the treat Phainon usually came prepared with when meeting them and Hyacine - only for the pegasus to come face to face with the chimera that peeks out of the cradle of its arms.
“Doot!” Ica rears back a few inches in alarm and Phainon laughs.
“Lord Phainon!” Hyacine has come over, setting her clipboard aside. “It’s good to see you but I’m so sorry - if it’s nothing urgent I’d like to finish up these little ones’ check up first before we catch up.”
“Ah. Well-“ he hikes up the chimera in his arms in explanation. Hyacine’s eyes widen. “Oh my! What happened?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” says Phainon. “I found this little one hiding in the bushes just outside the marketplace. Poor thing was terrified, and feels feverish too.”
“It’s a good thing you were there,” says Hyacine, tilting her head to look at the chimera that is now trying to burrow its face into Phainon’s chest, small paws digging into the thick white fabric of his coat.
“Hi there. No need to be afraid.” Her gentle, melodic voice coaxes the chimera to peek at her. A careful hand cards very lightly through its matted fur.
“I’m a healer. Of both body and mind. You can trust me to take care of you, and we can figure out any problems you’re facing, alright?”
Awoo, says the chimera. Phainon cannot understand them like Hyacine can but it sounds tentatively trusting to him, and Hyacine smiles so he can’t be far off.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She takes the chimera from Phainon gently and cradles it in her arms. The creature shivers but does not attempt to escape.
“I’ll leave the little one in your care then, Hyacine,” says Phainon, placing a hand over his chest. “Let me know if I can be of any further help.”
“Thank you, Lord Phainon. I’ll text you with an update, or if something comes up.”
...........
Phainon spends the remainder of the Lucid Hour and a large part of the Action Hour shadowing Aglaea while she attends to her daily duties, following which he stops for dinner at the Marmoreal Diner and then drops by Theodoros’s Antique shop. Alas, he has only one piece waiting for appraisal whose authenticity - or in this case, lack thereof - is easily determined without too thorough an inspection.
So instead he spends a few more minutes admiring the completed pieces in Theodoros’s soon to be launched limited edition Chrysos Heirs doliums while Theodoros thanks him profusely for his suggestions on the painted designs; it is a little embarrassing to recollect, frankly, especially when in his enthusiasm to provide helpful feedback Phainon had ended up going into rather great detail about the faithful portrayal of a certain Kremnoan prince’s muscular, armoured glory.
Thankfully, Theodoros was a man of sense and was charitable enough to never comment.
And now, Phainon could see the results before his eyes.
“This is marvelous work, Sir Theodoros!” he exclaims, admiring the boldness of the colours and lines, the very distinguishable figure of Mydeimos conquering the blazing battlefield depicted on the dolium.
“Thank you, Lord Phainon. It wouldn’t have been possible without your aid.”
“Ah, I just gave my opinions, the hard work is all yours!”
Theodoros chuckles. “You are too kind.”
Phainon looks over the doliums painted with Aglaea and the Holy Maidens of Janus’s visages as well - all painted with great care.
Of course, they already had a good image among the people of the city, unlike Mydei who was still the subject of discrimatory whispers and suspicion.
It troubled Phainon - sure, Mydei was rather rough around the edges but there was nothing wrong with that! He hopes that work showing his prowess in the battlefield in a positive light and not as something to be feared would help public opinion of him and the Kremnoan people in due course.
He is pulled out of his thoughts when his teleslate chimes.
A message from Hyacine, explaining that she had finished her examination and asking if he would be able to visit the Garden of Life tomorrow at the start of the Lucid Hour.
He responds in the affirmative and receives a happy sticker in response.
Considering he would have to make some time for the visit, he bids farewell to Thedoros, and makes his way back home, hoping what awaits is only good news.
...........
“Lord Phainon, over here!”
He sees Hyacine waving to him from in the shade of the large tree and waves back, going over to her.
The injured chimera was nowhere in sight, however.
Almost as if reading his mind - or perhaps his wandering gaze gives it away - Hyacine reassures him as soon as he reaches her.
“The chimera you brought in yesterday - Fig Stew - is doing much better. He’s currently still resting.”
Phainon nods. “That’s a relief to hear.”
“I also looked into the squad he belongs to, since I was sure their manager and co-worker must be looking for him.” Here, Hyacine’s expression turns cross. “And when I tracked him down, you know what that man said?!” She puts on a deeper voice. “'I’m not wasting any more of my resources and time on that useless chimera!'”
“How callous!”
Hyacine puts her hands on her hips, her ire growing the more she recounts. “It turns out that the squad manager had been yelling at him a lot because he made some mistakes on the job, and piled on even more work!”
Phainon’s brows furrow. He has heard in passing, sometimes, of chimeras being overworked but to see the true extent and consequences with his own eyes….
“That’s outrageous. Surely there’s someone this can be reported to?”
Hyacine sighs loudly. “We could report the issue to the Gardeners and they will eventually take action, probably a transfer, but unfortunately till then the care of Fig Stew will still fall to his squad manager.”
“And he sure won’t bother with that given his attitude…” mutters Phainon.
Hyacine nods. “This wouldn’t have been a problem if I was staying in Okhema longer, but I will have to return to the Grove tomorrow and won’t be able to follow up on his health. He’ll be completely well within a couple of weeks but until then-“
“I can come and check up on him,” offers Phainon.
“Oh, you’d do that?” Phainon nods and Hyacine claps her hands together. “Thank you so much! Normally I would have asked Ladies Tribbie, Trianne or Trinnon to lend a hand, but they are already stretched so thin these days and everyone at the Garden already has their hands full with the other chimeras and their studies…it’s hard to find reliable help.”
“Don’t worry about it, Hyacine. You can count on me,” Phainon reassures her.
Hyacine beams. “That puts my mind at ease. I’ll be traveling back early tomorrow, but I’ll send you a list of things you would need before that!”
“Leave it to me.”
...........
As agreed upon, the tail end of the next Entry Hour finds Phainon on his way to the Garden of Life after a trip to Marmoreal Market.
"This should be all of it," mutters Phainon to himself, balancing the large paper bag in one hand and his teleslate that he was using to refer to the list Hyacine had sent him with the other.
He is greeted by a few curious chimeras as soon as he steps off the elevator to the Garden of Life.
"Morning," he greets them as they yip and dart around his feet, being careful to avoid stepping on any tails. "Just a moment now, let me check up on our new friend and I'll give you some attention in a bit."
He finds the chimera - Fig Stew, he remembers - napping in the far corner by the balustrade, soaking in the light from the dawn device looming in the middle distance.
Phainon notices now that he has been bathed, his fur is a burnished orange, turning fluffy and rust-red at the scruff of his neck and cream along his underbelly.
He lifts his head, alert, as soon as Phainon is a few feet away.
“Hello again,” he says, closing the remaining distance and crouching in front of the chimera slowly, setting the bag down on the grass.
The chimera sniffs at it curiously and Phainon smiles. “Ah, it seems you already have an inkling of what’s in here. Like to have a look?”
Fig Stew awoos quite excitedly.
Good, it seems Hyacine’s care has helped improve both his physical and mental state quite significantly.
“Here you are.”
He tips the bag slowly and lets the contents spill out onto the grass.
“Some fresh fruit.” The chimera pokes at the pomegranate Phainon picks up with his nose.
Phainon sets the fruit down with the crunchy pears and red grapes before lifting up another round item, squeezing it in his hand.
“A soft ball for you to play with. I was told it helps relieve stress for both humans and chimeras.”
He rolls it along to Fig Stew who starts batting at it curiously.
“And lastly-“ He holds up a comb and a bristle brush. “If you’re alright with me doing it, we can get some grooming in too. How about it?”
Awoo!
Phainon chuckles. “I’m glad you’re able to understand me well. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for me…I should have made more of an effort to learn while I was at the Grove. But I’ll try my best now.”
Fig Stew lets out another awoo and comes up to Phainon to butt his head against his hand.
Phainon smiles and obliges, petting his head gently.
“Hyacine tells me you’ve had a rough time. Don’t worry about a thing now, alright?”
Fig Stew makes a happy little noise and nuzzles against Phainon’s palm.
“Good. Let’s get started with your lunch then.”
“Huh.” Phainon checks the message Hyacine had sent him with the amount of food needed for each meal serving. “You ate less than half…”
Hyacine had said that he was back to eating a healthy amount. Could it be that he was unwell again?
He shoots Hyacine a text, still thinking.
It was also possibly not a cause for worry; perhaps one of the children that sometimes came in had snuck him some snacks.
Yet, Phainon has been entrusted this duty and he will do his due diligence - even if it means speaking to a very unpleasant Council Elder's son who happens to be Fig Stew's manager and whom he approaches once Fig Stew has been taken care of for the day.
"Lord Phainon," he sneers, tilting his head up just to look down his nose at him. Phainon refrains from scoffing. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"You are Sir Villius, am I right?" Phainon does his best to keep his tone amicable. "Lady Hyacine has left me in charge of monitoring Fig Stew's recovery. I happened to find that he doesn't have much of an appetite today. Would you have any idea why that may be?"
"Are you accusing me of something, Lord Phainon?”
“I never insinuated anything of the kind, Sir. I just wanted to know if he had already been fed.”
The man harrumphs. “How should I know? That little beast has effectively run away and increased my work, it is no longer my responsibility.”
It’s all Phainon can do to not glare. “…I see. Well, rest assured a transfer request will be handed in at the earliest.”
“As long as I am reimbursed for the compensation to clients I have had to give out thanks to its incompetence, I could not care less where that blasted creature goes.”
“Good day, Sir Villius.” Phainon’s tone is clipped and icy, and the man, sensing his anger, makes haste to move to the other side of the Garden even though Phainon turns away to leave.
Infuriating encounter aside….that still hardly brings Phainon any closer to learning why Fig Stew was eating so little.
He supposes the best he can do is continue watching over it and let Hyacine know if it continues.
...........
“Hm? What’s this?”
A few days later Phainon has settled down beside Fig Stew while the chimera plays with his slowly growing collection of toys - Phainon often finds himself picking things up for him after a quick consultation with the shopkeepers - but he doesn’t recognise the one he sees right now.
Phainon touches the ball that is under Fig Stew’s paw.
It tinkles at the prod, and he sees a ribbon attached to it. It’s red and gold in colour. Pinching it between his fingers he holds the ball up in the air and Fig Stew paws at it with a happy yip.
“Who gave you this?” he asks, idly running his hand over the chimera’s fur.
The awoo he receives in reply, alas, does nothing to answer his question.
Phainon gives Fig Stew an apologetic look. “Really should have paid more attention at the Grove, huh?”
Perhaps it’s one of Fig Stew’s own toys from before he was brought back by Phainon; he wonders how that stingy and heartless squad manager even allowed such things if it were. Or maybe it was something Hyacine had gifted the chimera before she left. Regardless, Fig Stew seems rather fond of it, pawing at the ball and ears perking up whenever it tinkled.
“If it’s a gift, it’s indeed a thoughtful one, isn’t it?” Phainon comments, more to himself than anything. It was probably someone who knew either the tastes of chimeras or Fig Stew himself quite well.
...........
The next slightly odd incident comes the next week.
Fig Stew still has some days when he eats less, but Hyacine had told him it was fine as long as Fig Stew wasn’t showing signs of indigestion, weakness or any other form of illness.
Phainon is laying in the grass, his eyes closed. Normally, he finds it hard to nap even after a sleepless night but today is one of the rare days he finds himself drifting off, the scent of grass and earth and Fig Stew’s soft head nuzzling against his cheek making him grow sleepy.
He does not know when he falls asleep entirely and for how long he naps, only aware that when he wakes with a start, looking around and realising the scholars that had been quietly sitting in the far corner of the Grove had already rolled up their scrolls and left, Fig Stew was no longer beside him.
He sits up, and his eyes fall on a small huddle several feet away atop one of the giant lily pads, among which he recognises two familiar heads of vibrant red hair.
“-aww, look at how he rolled over-“
“It seems my companion has found new playmates,” says Phainon as he strolls up to them.
All three children look up.
“Snowy! We thought you were sleeping!” exclaims Trianne.
“I was. Now I’m awake and refreshed after having a good nap.” He crouches in front of them. “I didn’t know you would be here today, Trianne, Trinnon.”
“We were helping this child who got lost find their way back to their mother-“ begins Trinnon.
“-but she saw this cute little chimera and wanted to play with him! We think they’re friends!” finishes Trianne.
“….”
“Oh! We should go and continue looking for her!” Trianne hops up to her feet, pulling Trinnon with her. “Snowy! Since you’re awake now will you look after Iris for us in the meantime? She was upset before while we were looking but she calmed down after seeing her friend!”
“Of course,” says Phainon, moving to climb onto the lily pad and sit in the space vacated by the two redheads. “I’ll be here.”
“Thank you, Snowy.”
“We’ll be back soon!”
Silence descends upon the garden once the Demigods of Passage make their exit.
Iris seems uninterested in talking, still equally engrossed in kneading Fig Stew’s fur between chubby little fingers as she had been when Phainon had come up to them, the chimera also content in its place in her arms and being pampered.
“….The other big brother told me he likes this.”
“The other big brother?” Phainon blinks down at the toddler, surprised she has elected to speak at all.
She nods, not looking up from where she is running her tiny hands over Fig Stew’s flanks.
“Do you happen to know this big brother’s name?”
She pauses at that, sticking her lower lip out as she thinks. “No.” Phainon’s shoulders slump.
“He’s as big as you.” Alright….not very helpful but he supposes it eliminates the possibility of it being another child.
Though…there aren’t that many adults that care to play with the chimeras. Especially not among the men.
“Anything that stands out about him when you look at him?” he tries.
Iris is silent for so long that Phainon thinks perhaps the question is too difficult to understand for a child her age.
But then she offers. “He’s big.”
Phainon laughs quietly. “So I gathered.”
Trinnon and Trianne return very soon after, Iris’s worried mother in tow, and Phainon forgets about Fig Stew’s mysterious co-caretaker.
...........
…Not for very long though, for the very next day as he enters the Garden, intending to feed Fig Stew, maybe play with him a little and be on his way, he comes to a halt, completely taken aback by what he sees.
“Mydei?”
The Kremnoan prince looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged in the grass, Fig Stew rolling around in front of him.
“You’re the one who has been taking care of Fig Stew?”
Mydei stares at him, his eyes moving from his face to the bag of toys and food in his hands and then back to his face.
“So you’re the one who has been leaving him these obnoxious toys.”
Phainon sputters. “O-obnoxious?! I’ll have you know I take great care in selecting them!”
“I am not doubting that. Just saying it explains why they look like they were selected by someone who has no idea what they’re doing.”
“They are-!” Phainon lowers his voice when some of the people reading in the alcove give him dirty looks. “They’re fun. And whimsical. You wouldn’t get it. Besides, Fig Stew likes them!”
“Oh?” Mydei tilts his head to the side, an infuriating smirk on his lips. “Then why does he prefer what I brought him instead?”
A familiar tinkling rings through the air and indeed, Fig Stew is playing with his favourite ball - the one Mydei had apparently brought for him.
When Phainon has no answer, the Crown Prince gives a smug scoff. “Quality over quantity, Deliverer.”
“Why are you here anyway?”
“Why not?” Mydei leans forward, placing his elbow on his thigh and his chin on his palm. “This is a public space.”
“No, I mean why are you with Fig Stew? That’s the chimera-“
“I know what his name is, Deliverer.”
“…Oh.”
Phainon decides he probably shouldn’t continue standing there several feet away to hold conversation like an uncouth man, so he approaches Mydei and crouches beside him.
Fig Stew drops the ball momentarily to greet Phainon, rubbing up against his leg and hand and letting out a happy awoo.
Phainon, meanwhile, is very aware of Mydei watching on with keen interest.
“I think a pertinent question to ask is why you are here,” says Mydei, and Phainon doesn’t realise how close they are till Mydei’s breath tickles the shell of his ear, making him nearly fall back on his ass. Mydei continues, unaware of the unexpected trouble stirring in Phainon’s heart. “I have been visiting Fig Stew for months now and have never seen any sign of other people caring for him.”
“I was requested to do so by Hyacine,” he says. “Well…I would have done it anyway, but she also made it clear that his manager could not be trusted to look after him.”
“Tch, yes, that man.”
“You’ve met him?”
Mydei waves his hand dismissively, as if he is not worth talking about. “Only recently, after Fig Stew went missing. It’s a good thing that he will no longer be responsible for Fig Stew’s care, though I worry for the others still under him.”
“…hm.”
“What?” snaps Mydei.
“Oh, nothing. Indeed, I do hope the Gardeners consider that as well. Just…I wasn’t expecting you to have a fondness for chimeras.”
The prince breaks eye contact and looks down at Fig Stew, scratching between his ears. “I don’t have any particular fondness for them. This one just approached me a few times when I came here so I have taken to visiting him too.”
That’s…
Phainon rocks back on his heels and plops down in the grass, hoping to conceal the wide grin that breaks over his face in case Mydei gets the wrong idea and thinks he’s laughing at him. Mydei, predictably, merely turns his head a little, not enough to see Phainon’s expression but enough for the white-haired man to see his singular arched brow, before he turns back to his phone.
Phainon peers over his shoulder and sees the likeness of a very familiar chimera on the banner of the page, several posts and animations in large icon squares. Then he sees the creator editing icon on the top right…
“You’ve made Fig Stew a social media account?”
Mydei turns to look back at him, his expression unimpressed. “It’s my account. And do you not know it’s rude to look at people’s teleslates? I thought a scholar like you would have better manners.”
The last part sails over Phainon’s head; he’s too distracted, motioning at the teleslate again. “But the account name is quite literally ‘Fig Stew is so yummy’- wait a minute!” He’d seen this account a couple of times when he had been doomscrolling before bed. “This account makes animations. Do you make those?!”
Mydei’s cheeks are a little brighter with faint gold. “What of it? You have your hobbies too.”
He did but none of them were so-
“Cute.”
Mydei whips around, looking ready to punch him but Phainon holds up his hands. “I mean it sincerely! Not in a bad way at all!” He lowers his hands when Mydei relaxes a little, still looking confused and a little sullen and Phainon has to hold back the urge to call him cute again. “But seriously, when did you learn animation? I would never have pegged you as the type to have that sort of interest- again, nothing wrong with it! I’ve seen a couple of them and they’re very well made!”
Mydei clears his throat. “….I picked it up after watching some tutorial courses. And. Well, as you say, I do have a reputation to uphold, if not for myself then for the people of Kremnos. So I made an account under Fig Stew’s name. With his permission, of course.”
“Of course,” agrees Phainon, though he’s not quite sure how one would go about getting a chimera’s approval without Hyacine for interpretation.
Mydei seems to catch onto his doubt.
“Don’t doubt me, Deliverer. I am a man of honour - I went through all the proper channels, and have acquired a copyright for Fig Stew’s name and likeness, permission to use the same and a contract to ensure that he receives 35% of the profits I make, with the squad manager answerable for proper allocation of the money.” He produces a slate from his mantle and shows it to Phainon who has never been more astounded in his life.
Truly, the bureaucracy of the Garden of Life was impressive. In a terrifying way.
“So you and Fig Stew are uh…good friends, I take it?”
“We are,” says Mydei very seriously. “He may still be working on his nerve, but he has the heart of a lion.”
Fig Stew lets out a particularly proud and ferocious sounding awoo.
And then promptly scurries back when a white and grey-furred chimera with horns emerges from where it was crouching in the grass, its eyes huge and excited and its mouth open happily.
It looks harmless, if a little excitable.
“It’s alright, little guy.” He pets the scared chimera that has backed into his hand, making a series of distressed awoos. “Look, he-uh-“ He looks at Mydei rather helplessly when he finds himself lost on the gender of the new arrival. The prince gives a sweeping inspection to the grey chimera and confirms with a simple “He.”
“Right, he’s probably excited to make new friends! What say we extend a greeting?”
Mydei humphs. “The two are already familiar with each other.”
“What?” Then by this reaction, was this chimera also part of the reason Fig Stew had run away? Was he being bullied even outside of work? Or was this a co-worker from the same squad making him uncomfortable?
But the grey chimera seemed friendly enough…it rubbed itself along Mydei’s crossed legs, butting its head into them playfully before it approached Fig Stew and Phainon, looking the picture of innocence.
And then it immediately pounces on Fig Stew, the two of them rolling away from Phainon and Mydei in a ball of grey and orange fur.
Awoo!
”Hey, don’t do that!” Phainon goes to separate the two, only for the grey chimera to snap its teeth at Phainon.
”What the-“
Despite the aggression and Fig Stew’s initial fear, the latter doesn’t seem intent on escaping the chimera now that he is on top of him.
Neither is the other chimera attacking Fig Stew, now that Phainon looks closely.
“Are they playing?”
“…You could say that.”
Phainon squints at Mydei, but receives no more than that vague answer.
Another loud awoo draws his attention- and oh, that position is not-
“…Should we file a complaint for workplace harassment?”
...........
“Thank you for watching over him, Lord Phainon,” days Hyacine with a warm smile one week later. “I’m sure Fig Stew greatly appreciated your company too.”
“Ah, it was nothing. It was enjoyable, and I learned quite a few new things.”
Perhaps a little too much, thinks Phainon, eyeing the grey furred devil that hides its intentions even now behind an innocent mask, yipping happily at Hyacine’s feet beside Fig Stew.
And on a more pleasant note, not just about chimeras.
He bids farewell to Hyacine and the two chimeras before catching up to the retreating figure just by the elevator.
“Do you come here regularly, Mydei?”
The prince glances at him out the corner of his eye. “Whenever I can.”
“Is that every other day, every other week…”
“Why are you so interested?”
Phainon smiles. “It seems like a good place to make friends.”
“….I suppose it is.”
They take the elevator down together in companionable silence.
As they part ways, Mydei’s voice carries to him from behind. “On the third and sixth days of the week.”
Phainon smiles to himself. “See you then.”