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Chapter Text

In the deafening summer silence, Kephale sat as a measly human called Phainon.
How long has it been?
Kephale (Khaslana?) had the exact numbers in his head, making him feel colder in a way he didn’t think he could feel before with the flames burning inside him.
They were feeling ashy now. When he touched an especially tender part, they flickered for a second before sizzling out again.
 
Kephale didn’t raise his head to watch the sun finally leaving its place to dusk- he didn’t have to see to feel the heaviness of it on his back.

Phainon, on the other hand, cherished it. Such a naive, foolish man he was -as he watched the sun melt through the land to illuminate others; and still finding peace in it, still being able to smell the wheat fields-.
 
Kephale cherished Phainon. If he didn’t exist Khaslana would have went mad a thousand times by now- madder than Eurypon, madder than Nikador, madder than the love Mnestia had for Cerces.
 
But Kephale knew he was bad for Phainon. He posioned and possessed, ravaged and consumed. He didn’t let anyone have anything of Phainon like the selfish being he was. But they shared the trait of burning themselves to be the brightest in the room.
 
Phainon was tired.
 
Exhausted.
 
Kephale had his feast, ate this heart out like it was the tastiest pomegranate -the sinking of his teeth satisfying in the bumpy skin and the fruit’s burning aftertaste-.
 
(Phainon doesn’t give any credits to the monologue he had- on the choice of the fruit. In some nations, Phainon heard, people called pomegranates “fire fruit”. It was such, such a bad joke- such an infuriatingly underwhelming metaphor.)
 
Kephale silenced the man’s thoughts and replaced them with his own like a mother’s love towards her daughter.
 
And made Phainon believe him and him are two different beings. Did Kephale really do that or did Phainon’s brain protected him so primally? Phainon watched as the last bits of sunshine touched his eyelashes, kisses from a lover he didn’t prefer.
 
Kephale was engraved in his skin, marring the muscles with slashes, inviting people to peek inside. And Phainon.
The poor guy was a mask built because of others expectations, pleas, prayers. Phainon- Khaslana?- would prefer ripping his wings again instead of someone having expectations from him ever again.
 
He doesn’t want anyone to expect anything from him.
But also, he wants everyone to expect everything from him.
 
His heavy steps in the grass was pointless, aimless. And like all the aimless dervishes, he was turning into a poet with so little words and even littler space to let them be heard. The words echo, then fade. They are unnecessary. And unmistakably so Phainon.
 
Phainon was too tired to want.
 
Kephale built him a bed out of the normal eye’s sight.
 
Phainon got inside after shedding every single piece of his armour on the way, barely in clothing as he got in the makeshift covers. Something selfish in him nudged him for a second to scatter the heavy, carefully crafted pieces away so someone knew Phainon existed- and not only Kephale. Phainon wanted to be known as Phainon. Wanted to be cherished as Phainon.
 
No.
 
Phainon was too exhausted to want.
 
He didn’t know where he left his armour.
 
Kephale sealed the door shot, the sword was scarded away somewhere. There wasn’t need for it now.
 
Benevolence be damned- Phainon wanted to say. He didn’t want Kephale’s pity. He just wanted to sleep.
 
 
*
 
 
“He is just gone,” The woman spoke in the most humane she spoke in so long now.
“Without a word.” The man with the eyepatch added.
“Do you-“ he had to clear his throat which insisted on constricting his words as if there were many to begin with. “Think he still exists?” He asked finally.
“I do not know.” Anaxa answered, his gaze lingering on Aglaea for a second.
“He definitely exists as the Worldbearer. I don’t know about Phainon.” He explained further. Aglaea was gripping the railing with both her delicate hands. Anaxagoras stood up, placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder- which was cold touch from the now- moon shining above them.
 
Mydei watched the two with the feline lady, who lazily flicked her tail- snapping her gaze away after she watched Miss Goldweaver lean her head on the professor’s shoulder.
She stretched, touched Mydeimos’ shoulder to signal to leave the two alone.
 
“Please don’t say anything.” Mydei requested softly, his voice betraying his words.
“Titan of Strife, seeing you so mushy is weird.” She commented with a purr, but it lacked the usual flair.
 
A lot of things lacked their usual flair but that might just be Mydei.
 
“I’m going to find him.” He choked his sob. “Then throttle him.”
An unamused laugh graced them, soft.
Castorice was warm now.
“He is nowhere in the Sea of Souls.” She informs. Hyacine follows her lead, her arm around the gal. Castorice steps into the embrace, finally getting her wish.
 
Mydei feels his stomach twist.
 
“Nor in any of the other infirmaries I could contact.”
 
On paper everyone got their wishes. Including Phainon.
He made everyone’s wishes come true.
 
And here Mydei was. He should be happy that he got his wish.
 
“Hey, mister?” Cipher took him out of his trance. “Maybe you should go to sleep.”
“And then what?” Mydei snapped softly. “I have so many days to sleep now. So many years.” He sounded worse and worse every time they spoke. So he decided he would just… no, that was a lie.
 
“I’m sorry.” He added.
Cipher shrugged. “I understand why you are so frisky.” But she didn’t add anything else before faintly adding, “I will look for him.”
Mydei’s eyes shone for a second.
They all were doing their best to find Phainon.
 
That foolish man.
 
Mydei hated that Phainon left. For selfish and selfless reasons alike.
 
He could get past and accept most of them.
He couldn’t understand what he’s going through but Mydei would accept if Phainon just wanted to leave.
 
Mydei couldn’t accept if he were to leave them without knowing how loved he actually was.

*

“The sky is falling,” he spoke. The bed was too comfortable to leave. “And I’m here.” He sounded raspy.
 
Why was he there?
 
Where was he supposed to be?
 
He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to be.
 
He was going to shoulder his responsibilities. The world didn’t need him right now.
And what a relief it was.
 
The seal was getting even more strong.
 
No one knocked anyway. It was wonderful. The caving in his heart, yearning of his unrelenting soul. The tears shed. He was so tired of wanting. He wanted to rip his chest into two, just to prove himself he still wanted- he wanted.
 
The company he craved, he never was…
No.
Kephale was alone. All Kephale had was Phainon.
And all Phainon had was the Deliverer. He stuck his face further.
Pillows were soft. It wasn’t like home. Phainon stood trembling.
 
Shattered the seal. Walked right to where the smell of ashes lead him.
 
He threw up with the sight of that vexed swing, his shackles binding even when the prison no longer existed.
 
Cyrene, oh dear Cyrene.
 
He laughed, gagged, drank some water.
 
And sat by the tree. The view was so disgusting.
It was everything maddening.
 
Phainon wished he had gotten mad just so he’d be out of-
 
He sobbed softly.
 
Foolish. He still had the heart of a human.
 
And the human part of him took him home, to the beginning. He crawled under the shade.
 

*
 

“I found this-“ Hysilens put Dawnmaker on the dining table without any warning. “In the sea.”
Cerydra looked at the sword for a moment before Tribbie spoke up.
“Snowy…”
“When did you find it?” Cerydra asked softly.
“Today. It didn’t seem like it was in there for long.”
“It also could mean someone stole it.” The monarch was thinking. “But it’s something.” Hysilens nodded. Aglaea was rendered speechless. She ran her fingers on it.
“He touched this.” She said, small thrill. “I sense him.”
“Agi,” Tribbie prodded, “are you-”
“I’m serious.” Aglaea almost broke down. Anaxagoras had his hand on the small of her back. “Please,” she whispered.
“He’s alive.”
“Call Cyrene.” Cerydra looked at Tribbie.
 
 
“Do you think you really can track him?”
Mydei was startled while looking at a map.
“I feel like I know where he is.”
“And?” The woman sat by him, looking at the map.
“I’m just not sure he’d be so dumb to go back to his own home.”
She chuckled, brushed some of her hair away from her face. “I think,” she started but didn’t continue. 
“You could just see him with your cards, couldn’t you?”
“And go against his wishes?”
“And what good is it if he just rots himself in some hole?”
Cyrene tutt’ed. “Then it’d be the only choice so far he made for himself.” She started. “I don’t think I’m capable enough to sway him.”
Mydei’s anger dissipated.
Cyrene was as stuck as he himself was. She was trying to decide whether or not to entertain Phainon to show him patience. Or at least, Mydei thought in the few seconds he had before answering. She was as tortured as Phainon was- from the little he heard.
“I don’t think I have your virtues.” He mumbled.
“Virtues are to tame the evil, Mydeimos.” She smiled softly. “I choose to stay out of his business for the sole reason of him being a stubborn ass when he wants to be.”
Mydei was a little stunned but he got where Cyrene was coming from.
“He always was like that. Although, I think you have an idea.” She thought for a second. “I know he does have a soft spot for you.” She leaned back, Mydei then also realised two things.
 
One, she was nervous.
 
“You won’t help me?”
 
Two,
 
“No.” She said softly. “I believe in my ways, you believe in yours.” She sighed, looking up. “What’s another thousands of years?”
 
Cyrene was trying to get him to look for Phainon.
 

 *

When Kephale woke up, he found a pair of eyes staring at him, sniffing his face. He didn’t mean to startle the little beady eyed creature, but him having gigantic wings on the floor -which were around himself as he slept- and big body, he called for Phainon.
 
Both to handle this round thing and to let him have some sunshine. The man was as white as the marble.
Phainon stretched his arms, the creature instantly making a noise and running (bouncing) back to the water.
 
After his head starts working, Phainon realized it was just a little seal. “Hey,” he called out, sounding too raspy. So raspy that it scratched his ears, “I won’t harm you.” He said silently, but neither he nor the seal believed the words.
 
Him, not harming? That was a dream right now.
With a long sigh, he decided he wasn’t going to hold his philosophical debates about his own morality against an illiterate being.
Illiterate.
Phainon stood up, took his jacket off and cursed himself silently. Was he such an idiot to sleep on the docks? Did he not even have the option to suffer comfortably?
 
Well then, insert Okheman swear word here.
He started laughing as he stood up and stars danced in front of his eyes under the bright sun. That damned star, now real.
He felt delirious.
 
You need to eat, his body reminded. I didn’t have a day where I didn’t want to perish in this last few million years, his mind replied. He could fare with some hunger. He didn’t need to be muscular to be strong anymore.
 
What was the point of being strong anyway?
 
There wasn’t any. He chuckled, his empty stomach protesting.
What use was protesting? He protested. He protested and succeeded. The battle he was in right now was even messier than the last one.
 
Therefore, mainly for metaphorical reasons, he left his stomach empty.
 
Did anyone need him anymore? What was the point of living if he had fulfilled his purpose?
A bard once sang, “would I ever melt under a different sun?”.
 
Phainon melted under 33,550,338 different suns.
 
So the answer was no.
 
Phainon didn’t want to melt under any more suns.
 
Phainon didn’t know what was his name.
He didn’t know how would he be preferred to be called anymore.
Well, he did. He would prefer he wasn’t called at all.
The creature squeaked. “You bastard,” he scoffed. “I just said that I don’t want to be called.” He sounded raspy. “Are you insinuating that I’m a liar?”
The creature slowly went under the water, leaving Phainon (?) alone with his reflection, staring back without the spark in his eyes, distorting and for a fleeting glimpse, showing his face to himself.
 
Phainon decided to not think about more metaphors. He decided to go in the ruins, instead. He tried to avoid the seal.
 

*

 
It took Mydei almost a month to travel to the southernmost until he found the tiny town, only in ruins and fields of rotten wheat from not being collected. Mydei overheard Cyrene talking with the others a few times- about how they should let Mydeimos handle this.
 
Mydei was grateful. And he didn’t like being somewhat pampered. Pampered because it was him first that was seeking Phainon out. The stuffy feeling in his chest didn’t dissipate just yet, though.
 
There were no signs of a fire, or life. Besides little squawks coming from the pond, whereMydei paid no mind. He didn’t care about it unless it sounded like one stubborn man.
 
He put his bag down, he was less wary now that there were no black tide creatures left but he still had his gauntlets. It had became a comfortable presence.
 
 
Not sure if the land had anyone living inside, and honestly, believing if someone was unlucky enough to try to fight him in his sour mood, he shouted.
 
“Phainon!”
 
His voice echoed.
 

*

 
This time, Kephale woke Phainon up, hours ago. The shadows that were being warmed because of the sunlight warned there were steps coming towards him, with effortless elegance and without a doubt belonging to Mydei.
 
Kephale wanted out. This was too much for his weary body. It also was too much for this human, but Kephale lived for such a long time that his moral compass enabled him to think only his benefit.
He lived Long enough to see all his companions leave him behind. He was always left behind.
 
He was the kind of being to always care the most.
 
What a joke.
 
And then there was Phainon.
 
The measly human. With the shield he made for himself, out of his pathetic attempts of a mask.
 
He reminded Kephale of himself in an uncomfortable amount.
 
“I have to go,” started Kephale. “I don’t even know why I’m trying to explain myself to your delicate brain.”
“Because you are afraid you will be forgotten.” Phainon didn’t want to grace him with an answer but he himself was petty.
“Takes one to recognise t-“
“What am I to do without you?” Phainon cut in. He didn’t want to hear bullshit when his ears were ringing.
“You aren’t the one who needed the other.” Kephale answered. “You are the deliverer. I think you can also find a solution to this.”
“So, you are leaving this measly, miserable being to be your titan- with a joke too, might I add?” he huffed. “You are too unstable.”
 
Silence.
 
“You won’t be my titan, Phainon.” He looked up. “I’ll be long gone.”
Phainon’s lashes fluttered shut. “Do whatever you want.”
 
Kephale watched the body- his (?) body, from what felt like afar. He announced his upcoming absence, being the bigger person (?) and this was how the brat was paying him?
 
“Boy,” he started,
“I’m almost as old as you are.” Phainon warned. “Why are you leaving?” He asked pointedly. “To help me heal?”
“To set myself free.”
“Selfish.”
“Me setting myself free will only benefit you.”
Phainon’s scowl made itself clear.
“How your honey coated words touched me dearly, Kephale.” He whispered. “I don’t want your poisoned sweets.”
“Khaslana,” Kephale tried. “They are looking for you.”
“They will give up.” He didn’t protest about his name.
“Not if you change your place.”
“I’m aware my choice was a little predictable but can you please respect me in at least my own hom-“
“If you want to cut ties, you need to do it.” Kephale snapped. “You won’t rest even in your slumber if someone still has unanswered questions.” He harshly kept on, “And you are making them suffer-“
“As usual?” Phainon stood up, against the wall. “I murdered them, one by one, over and over again. If they can’t-“
“They will not.” Kephale cut in. “Your wish is nihilistic. Do you know why nihilism is a disaster, Phainon?” Ten times debate champ opened his mouth but Kephale didn’t let him.
 
“Because it’s too true. Because without fooling yourself, you are prisoned in a life where you are not dead nor quite alive.” He spat out. “Rot, along with your ideals.” He was loud at this point, it made Phainon wince. “Rot so even when they find you, only thing they would see is a vase, shattered into thousands- millions of disappointing pieces.”
“I’m too tired for this.”
“You will always be too tired for this.” Kephale stood up. “He is coming.” He mumbled, “don’t make yourself embarrassed.”
 
All phainon did was bury himself deeper in the wings wrapped around himself, almost resembling a cocoon of destruction of sorts.
 

*

“Phainon!” The voice ringed again, over and over.
Phainon was lying to himself about not being wanted to be found right now.
Kephale left. That also was weird. Being alone inside his body was odd. Truth be told, he was kind of used to Kephale being around.
 
Annoying old scum.
 
Phainon also was petty. Mydei had been looking for him for a while now, not yet saw him. Phainon didn’t either, but he could hear the voice that wasn’t loud yet strong. Strong enough to shake him. Not strong enough to make him enter his whatever millionth metamorphosis.
 
The only thing that was shaking wasn’t Phainon’s goosebumps, it also was Mydei’s shoulders; with the cry his throat enabled.
It was hurting like dry land getting it’s first spading up it received in unrelenting years under clouds that finally accepted to cry.
 
It gave Mydei the semblance of hope which he didn’t believe he was searching for.
 
He was searching for Phainon.
 
 
 
“Phainon?” Amber eyes landed on the figure, wrapped in gold and black under the moon, in a ruined house, his back leaning on a child’s bed- which didn’t have even barely enough space for him to lay his torso onto.
 
It was a small townhouse, everything either burnt or etched.
 
Mydei knew where he was at.
 
“Phainon,” he started again, his legs giving out as he fell on his knees, right next to the titan himself, in this cramped room with creaking windowsills.
 
Phainon head slowly peeked from the veil of his wings, the halo behind his head dimming the room. He didn’t speak, just gazed at Mydeimos for a few seconds, gulping afterwards.
“Mydeimos.” He greeted, raising from his weird position. Mydeimos followed all his sluggish moves. He watched his new form, move with engraved grace. “You came.” He added softly.
“What else would I do?” He asked, voice tight.
“Forget about me. Like you were supposed to.” Mydei’s eyes shot up at that. What?
 
“Is that a bad joke, Deliverer?”
“Deliverer is no more,” Phainon didn’t have the energy to snap. “Only scattered pieces of disappointment remains.”
Kephale be damned.
“Only my pale skin remains.” He continued, reciting a poem he no longer remembers the origins of. “There’s not much left inside.”
“I will be the judge of that.”
“And who is Strife to judge this lowly being?”

”Phainon,” Mydei spoke up, his face shifting into anger. “I’m not blaming you. But you won’t ever get better when you don’t do anything that interests you.”
“And are you suggesting you can interest me, Mydeimos?” Phainon spoke darkly, he was also getting angry. Mydei’s small surprise was replaced with fury. Getting better? Such a joke. 
 
“How much time do you need?”
“All of it,” Phainon spoke between his teeth.
“I said need, not want.” Mydei corrected, “How much time do you need?”
Phainon’s frown got deeper.
“I can understand that you want to not owe anyone anything after all of this,” Mydei’s rich tone was seeping deeper,
“But how dare you leave without saying anything?” There was an unverbalised “to me” at the end of the sentence.
Mydei’s voice was wavering, it made Phainon’s chest want to cave out, put Mydei inside. Protect him from everything.
 
No reply.
 
“Fight me.” Mydeimos threw his cape away, letting wind suck it out of the house, the broken wall providing all the space.
The flair, the drama, commanding tone…
Phainon felt the soft spark, deep down- a seed buried too deep but some insistent being was still watering it.
 
No matter what happened, the seeds couldn’t sprout when they are planted too deep. Phainon knew that from the fields he grew up in.
 
The fields were no more.
 
But were there seeds?

“What?” Phainon replied gloriously before his spine bent him into two to avoid the metal claws reaching to gauge is eyes out.
 
“Careful with that-“ he couldn’t verbalise anything else.
Mydei grinned. It was screaming angry in tones only Phainon’s stray side could hear.
“Don’t be upset at me. Please.”
“Castorice can touch people now,” Mydei’s stated, Phainon was keeping his defence up- barely. He almost got himself cut way too many times. “Hyacine and her are basically glued,” he wasn’t shutting up.

“Mydei-“ Phainon rasped, warning.
“Cipher is trying her best to fit into a life where she doesn’t have to run.” Mydei launched at him again, “Aglaea and Anaxagoras are spending so much time, Anaxagoras is trying to comfort Aglaea-“
 
Phainon was feeling more and more. The overwhelming pressure was overcoming the initial numbness. The amount of seeds were too much. He also felt the pressure of the punch that almost made his vision go for a second.
 
“She let’s him-“
“Shut up.”
“They hug,” the blonde man swiftly moved again.
“Shut up!” This time Phainon held the gauntlet instead of deflecting, then swayed the other man to the side. He just flipped on his hand before landing on his feet like a cat.
 
“Tribbie is now away from her responsibilities,”
“Mydeimos, I swear to-“
“Keep your swears elsewhere. Because Hyacine is making sure there are no grudges left.”
Phainon was panting, his chest wanting to rip at the seams.
“Trianne naps under the shade of the Verax Leo. Keeping him company. Trinnon took over the chimeras.”
“SHUT UP!” This time Phainon launched at the man that was shining with sweat, his eyes sparkling with a joy so distant to him yet nostalgic.
“And you,” The emphasis of a single “you” made Phainon’s world spin the opposite way. You. He was a you. He was someone. He was real. “have been miserable.”
Mydei braced himself, and they toppled each other down. It was shameful Phainon was only able to chip the man. It took no time for Mydei to swap them- Phainon was shook and bewildered- what good even was the titan power he was passed down? Was he only able to create plants?
 
He opened his mouth but only a scream came out.
 
Unfiltered, the type that makes the throat feel like it was rubbing against sandpaper.
 
With the aid of his wings that he finally remembered of since fighting with Mydei was always human, he pinned Mydei down, finally getting in a punch. Mydei’s lip split, golden blood pooled on his neck.
 
“Because, you, Mydeimos, were supposed to forget.” He punched once more only to get his fist stopped midair by a gauntleted hand.
“If I’m not forgotten, my dear Mydeimos,” he rasped between ragged breaths, “you were supposed to live.” He couldn’t help but let himself thump down, not being able to best the strife incarnate in ways that weren’t entirely physical. He rested his head on Mydei’s chest pooled with golden blood. His hands were on his waist, clinging onto the skin that fit so well in his hands.
 
“I tried to make anyone believe. I,” he bit back a sob. “I don’t know if anything is real anymore.” He confessed. “I can think nothing. I can do nothing.” The words were spilling. “I’m so tired.” He took a deep breath. He nosed the golden blood, letting the smell infiltrate senses he rarely recalled.
 
He was tired of the heavy prophecies. He was tired of the planet perched upon his shoulders.
 
He could shoulder one world. One time line.
 
Shouldering millions of it were just a big joke from the universe, their data code, or whatever insanity that sadist robot brought upon them.
 
He was but a human once. Now? The realisation settled way too long ago. He just found himself getting numb.
 
Such an unreliable narrator the prophecies were.
 
Mydei sighed softly, his arms bound. Phainon nuzzled into the warmth.
 
“Welcome back.” Mydei whispered. Phainon sobbed softly, whining his name.
“Have no,” he mumbled few words, tried again, “Mydeimos.” He rasped, a man either insatiable or borderline malnourished, “Mydei,”
“I’m here.” The soft voice replied.
“Have no idea.” He was shaking softly as his titan body decided to leave the stage. Left him bare. “You have no idea how many times I fantasised this.”
 
The reality, was it even the reality…
 
“You were supposed to live as everyone died.“ Phainon felt Mydei relax. He couldn’t feel brave enough to face him, though. “You know, I tried. For thousands of years, I tried to make- carve a way so you and I stayed behind. Together. I could command mountains, the seas, heard everyone’s sins and prayers alike-” He was spilling, Mydei was almost limp in his position. “Touch upon the secrets of the land, be able to control the skies,” he was frantically speaking. “Yet I couldn’t manage for so long.” 
Mydei opened his mouth to speak but Phainon started again.
 
“Then we would,” he sobbed, dry and silent. “Find a way. Together. Bring all of them back. Make you meet with Cyrene.“ he couldn’t stop once again.”after all this, we would just,”
Mydei let Phainon collect his breath.
“We would just be.” He got smaller on his chest. His naked form was enveloped by warmth. It would be uncomfortable if he was still able to recall bodily sensations.
 
“Phainon, please.” Mydei sounded raw, seconds away from crying. “Come with me.”
“To where?” He asked, Mydei straightened himself to a sitting position- Phainon’s face now buried on Mydei’s shoulder. “I’m so tired, so tired.”

Mydei shut his mouth for a moment.
“Then let me stay here.” He held his nape, the other arm wrapping around his back. “Let me take care of you.”
“For how long?”
“As long as you welcome me in.”
“Give me some time.”
Mydei nodded softly. 

Chapter Text

The days started to blur together, fabric of the reality was an odd one- changing colours under different skies, iridescent.

Looking at a mirror was never easy for Phainon ever since he was barely ten years old, at his age of whatever the (Okheman swear word here), it wasn’t hard. It was numbing.

He looked, searched, thought.

The face- was it changing? He saw someone else each time he faced a mirror. Not limited to Khaslana, Phainon, Deliverer, Kephale- no.

His brain saw him different- not even letting him remember, let alone letting Phainon chase after it. Now that he apparently had unlimited days, the time moved like a lazy cat, only doing the things it wants to do.

Being relatively safe was harder than whatever chaotic things were occurring day in and day out. There were no monsters, no tides, no nothing.

So he, Phainon the Worldbearer, now had the time to stress over how his face was so hard to comprehend into a singular image.

And he was too used to chaos- he embraced it like a mother, embracing her own daughter.

Maybe he was like Kephale after all.

Now though, there was also Mydei to distract. And Mydei, who likewise had unlimited time he was willingly giving to Phainon, (curse nihilistic thoughts and what not), it was so scary. It was hard to process lots of things he should’ve processed as a juvenile- now his heaviest burden.

Being a child was hard to begin with. Going back to being a child and trying to see your problems was much harder than he thought.

His fight which he was no near winning this time was against time itself and he was getting beat like a kid would from an unruly bully; crying and feeling like a kid would.

Phainon felt so small.

“Mydei,” he started talking while he watched the other man cleaning the insides of a fish- a little hypnotised at that, both from the motion and his thoughts.

The head comes off, discarded in the the Illiterate Seal’s pond, then Mydei presses his thumbs to the creature’s belly, tearing the ribs apart in an even split. (Phainon wished it was him instead. The Titans weren’t charitable enough to let Mydei rip him apart.)

“Mm?” The amber eyes flitted up, going back to the fish. (He was about to make up a metaphor of the fish being him and Mydei being that damned robot but the words soured on his tongue.)

“What do I look like?”

Mydei did not even raise his eyes before replying.

“Yourself.”

Phainon shut his eyes, pressing his hands on them until he was seeing colourful swirls.

Identity. Such a lame concept it was. Phainon was Phainon. The rest were just labels. Unnecessary, complicating. Like finding another one of the same, very common relic. It was old, it was pretty, and it sang the same notes million others did.

Even the most magnificent epics got unbearable when told in the same manner.

The concept definitely wasn’t something that could fit into one bite but Phainon was too old at this point to lie to himself for long.

He had to swallow.

*

“He is just a seal.”

“He deserves the names.”

“No seal deserve to be called illiterate nor a beast, HKS.” Mydei was trying very hard to his the fact that he was one moment away from him laughing like a HKS in the HKS’ face.

Phainon’s frown got deeper.

“He may not have the neurological build to understand what I’m saying but he always looks like he’s judging me.”

Silence, then Mydei’s amused voice filled both his ears and lungs. Fresh air- like the one on mountain tops. It reignited the ashes in his lungs, shocked him, gave him so much adrenaline, pushing him towards life.

“Perhaps he is.” Mydei commented, smiling. “You are scowling and-“

“I am not,” Phainon protested weakly.

“and angrily talking to the poor thing.”

Phainon’s laughter escaped his lungs.

His smile infiltrated his face, unescapable and soft.

“You are taking his side now?”

Mydei put his hand on top of Phainon’s hand from where the white haired man was squatting, quietly noting how long his hair had gotten when its between his fingers.

“Of course I am.” He replied, confidence oozing from him.

Phainon believed he touched heavens with the image of Mydei towering over him with that lovely smile. Even the pond agreed, Phainon thought, it was reflecting the prettiest of lights on the latter’s face and naked torso.

Phainon knew how easy it was for Mydei to shine, but it didn’t look nothing short of everything; ethereal and unreal at the same time.

So Phainon looked.

*

“Would I melt under the same sun…” he was singing softly, trying to remember the melody. “Mm, not exactly like that.” He sighed.

“Your singing voice isn’t all that bad.” Mydei mused, softest smile pulling on his lips and Phainon heartstrings alike.

Such a hopeless romantic, going through millions of years and still finding things to adore, enjoy as dearly as this.

Phainon wasn’t a bland person, he was only timid facing benevolence- a crow who always paid back its feeder with shine. He owed them the shine.

It didn’t compensate for the damage done. Mydei’s current goal wasn’t collecting gold and jewels, anyway.

He wanted for Phainon to shed all the layers of the millennia that was weighing on him.

To leave his treasures behind.

He wanted Phainon to be bare, as bare as he could be. Then help him get dressed in rich cottons like they do at deserts, airy and light.

Phainon had no idea how lucked out he was- in a cruel way.

“The rest goes with some words about disappointment,” Phainon kept talking, not managing very well to regulate the fluster he  was able to break down into its components.

You couldn’t digest a meal by only registering the nutrients of it. You had to chew and even, to Phainon’s surprise, (again) to swallow.

Mydei chuckled softly. “I didn’t really hear you sing. Back in Okhema.”

Phainon hummed noncommittally but damn his pettiness, he only kept his mouth shut for a moment or two. “I guess being back here brought a few memories back.”

“What else did you do on days like this?”

Phainon sighed, thinking.

“We would dance. Pretty normal stuff.” He scoffed. “Do you have the word ‘dance’ in Kremnoan, my dear prince?”

The lion, frankly, was concerning himself. Over a joke that the lion laughed surprisedly.

“I,” Phainon was a little startled. “Don’t know what came over me. I, Mydei,”

“You know exactly what came over you.” Mydei was still smiling. “I know you don’t forget things. You just remember too much so it’s hard to bring the knowledge back to the surface.”

Mydei ran his fingers through his hair, leaving his forehead in the open air. “But that reaction came from your spine. You are one teasing HKS.”

Phainon watched Mydei’s face with not really newfound compassion. No. It was there for a while now. He couldn’t speak. The other man’s gentle smile and mocking words made his heart fasten in his ribs, threatening to break free.

“Old habits really do die hard.” He muttered after being rendered speechless.

*

“What do I look like, Mydei?”

“Yourself.” Mydei repeated his answer from before.

“I’m so tired of this body.”

Mydei straightened his back and scooted slightly towards him. Let me give you something to lean on, it said, in a language that only Phainon and Mydei spoke. It was encouraging Phainon open up a little more.

“If you give me the golden shoulder, Mydeimos, I’m afraid I’ll want the whole arm.”

“You can have it.”

“It’s a metaphor. A metaphor I still find uses for.”

Mydei knew that a little well, at this point.

“You also torture yourself, along with many things trying to do so.” Mydei called him out, as gentle as a man with a spear and ethical hunting habits would be.

“I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“We can figure it on the way.” Mydei looked so sad. Phainon knew it was his sadness that was reflected on him.

“I know,” he muttered. “I will try not to burden myself.” A promise.

*

“What is it then, nihilism?”

“It isn’t only thinking about your unimportant existence.”

“Doesn’t it go both ways then? Not being important might be liberating.”

“That’s absurdism.” Phainon spoke, “And I’m too important to be unimportant.”

“Then your nihilism fails as a concept, because you care?”

“I fail at that too, yes.” Phainon snorted, unamused.

“You are bigger and much complex than a few texts from someone clever.”

“Philosophies are not as simple as that.” He snapped. “And if it’s a philosophical idea, then it feeds with my contribution too. And it’s there. Dialectic and all.”

“Then, if you have a philosophy, I get to create an anti-philosophy.”

“It’s called an antithesis- and you are such a baiter.”

Phainon looked at him with a frown, then continued.

“How can philosophies be considered philosophies if they hurt no one’s feelings, asked one of the philosophers.”

“There’s no philosophy behind me offering comfort.” Mydei reached with his hand. His warm fingertips found the cold cheek.

Phainon felt his cracks glow golden with his damned blood.

“There’s only me,” he cupped Phainon’s cheek. “And there’s only you.”

Phainon’s breath was caught in his lungs, the unbearable weight of comfort was somehow heavier than the world.

The sun, too, shines into cesspools and is not polluted. He recalled from the same philosopher. Then shivered softly.

Phainon leaned his face into the gentle touch, in the calloused hand from years and years of battle. His eyes fluttered shut, eyebrows slowly relaxing.

Mydei didn’t think he had the time to watch the Deliverer before. Not like this.

Not with him looking this soft.

“You are such an odd person.”

Mydei smiled. “And you are telling me that?”

*

Mydei was more concerned. No, he just had doubts but a side of him didn’t believe Phainon was, could be able to act right now.

He was looking a little better. He was mocking him. He was a bit more talkative.

Mydei didn’t believe in evil eyes but also, he tapped on wood three times so nothing happens that will make Phainon feel worse.

“Phainon?” Mydei had Phainon’s head on his lap, braided the now a little longer hair a and undid it a several times.

“Yes?” His eyes opened, gaze directly finding the latter’s- an arrow seized by a seasoned archer.

“Do you want me to cut your hair for you?”

Phainon’s eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.”

The strands were soft between his fingers as he chopped all the excess weight off. “Didn’t know you could also grow a beard.” He mumbled, back of his hand rubbing to the stubble on Phainon’s chin.

“I can’t,” Phainon muses. “It’s patchy and ugly.”

Mydei laughed softly. “You can bear worlds yet you cannot nurture a beard?”

“Shut it. It’s not like you can.”

It turned out, to Phainon’s horror, he could.

“Take that thing off of your face.” Phainon said, offended.

“Why, am I rubbing salt to a wound?” Mydeli mused.

“No. You are ruining your-“ Phainon stopped himself, then realised he didn’t mind complimenting Mydei. “Your face. You are gorgeous, Mydeimos.”

Mydei didn’t expect to be flustered. Phainon didn’t expect Mydei to be so pliant to his wishes.

*

It was Aglaea who wanted to reach out first. She sent them a carrier nymph, no strings, no nothing. The tellestates weren’t working given they were in a very rural area.

Honestly, Phainon was expecting them to crack one by one. He just expected Cyrene to be the first. But on the other hand, as much as he missed her company, a lot changed.

She saw him, over and over again, wrote his fate and wrong doings, watched him suffer.

Phainon didn’t know what they could talk about, exactly because of this.

Cyrene knew everything about Phainon whereas Phainon lacked knowledge below the surface- only some ripples in a grand lake.

Phainon didn’t think he delivered anything but disappointment. And that disappointment only was known between the two of them. Phainon was so ashamed, so exhausted that he even let go of the name in the end instead of fighting over it.

But Cyrene did so much.

The punishment of desire was the agony of unfulfillment, said some herald of some time spoke at some point.

In the end they managed, after all.

In the end Phainon knew it was selfish. Phainon long stopped feeling sick to his stomach like this as well, but here he was.

Did Phainon suffer for nothing, though? Did he push the rock over to the hill and get robbed of the rock?

Phainon was bitter. He knew he was. He just didn’t have it in himself to be gentle about this anymore.

Tender spots in his heart (and there were quite a few) were picked apart like an instrument played by the gods; the constant pull and pressure on strings amped up his emotions or fingers were laid flat on the fingerboard so they came to an entire, pregnant silence.

Phainon adored Cyrene like his kin. Therefore he couldn’t stand her like his overly achieving kin.

Aglaea’s message was simple, not entirely powered by emotions weighing down her shoulders. She only asked Mydei to give them an update, if possible.

She expressed in a few words how eager she was to hear about Mydei, her anxiety slipping out a little.

Phainon held the paper like it was the most cryptic text he had came across- like he was reading a foreign language he didn’t hear of.

Aglaea. She treated him- Phainon felt so guilty about this but- almost like a mother would. Protecting him in that manner as well. Phainon knew she was hurt.

Phainon too, was hurt.

It was Mydeimos who watched Phainon stare at the simple few sentences and shed some tears. His eyebrows raised softly, his face looked relaxed for once. He was undoubtedly sad, yes, but that sadness didn’t come from a place of hurt- it came from compassion. It came from a person Phainon adored.

Mydei let him take his time with the letter, talking a small stroll just to leave Phainon be for a little bit. Always in an earshot. (If he started walking louder and making more sounds while lighting up the days’ fire, just so Phainon also could gather that knowledge, no one knew about that. Only soul knew besides them was the seal Phainon called “Illiterate Beast” by accident.)

When he came back inside to the torn apart building, he saw Phainon writing something on a page he tore apart from a book. It made his spirits lift.

*

It was odd to be idle for a while.

Off putting, his wiring didn’t enable him to stay still.

With his exhaustion finally lifting like a curtain being pushed apart by a shy kid’s hide and seek game, Phainon was able to breathe.

Mydei was making everything so easy.

Almost too easy.

Therefore Phainon couldn’t deal with it, as a logical puzzle. He didn’t know where to put comfort a blurry month ago.

Now he was just a stray, always fed and always feeling like he’ll have no food tomorrow.

Pathetic. He was utterly, completely, disgustingly and disgracefully pathetic.

Therefore the only suitable option for the person of Phainon was to torture everyone by being overly extreme in senses that were much dulled given the 33 million (whatever thousand also should there really be another comma in this number- and -oh my god it’s too many hundreds of) cycles later.

Phainon read, quite a bit. Phainon. The skin belonged to him. The faint scars, the sun burn, blue eyes, pale face belonged to Phainon.

The eye bags, the hollow cheeks and gaze without the glint belonged to a dead skin that got stuck on him while shedding- trapping him. He wanted out.

Annoying old scum. Why didn’t Kephale take that snake skin with him?

“You would be a god even if you weren’t one,” spoke Phainon, staring at Mydei as he cut down wood for them. He didn’t want to fight Kephale longer- he wasn’t one to show sympathy anyway. So he did his best, the books he read by Anaxa’s tyranny proving useful.

Professor Anaxagoras. If Phainon’s little remark ended up useful likewise- he made a mental promise of always calling him by his full name.

“Oh?” Mydei’s smirk made itself shown. “And which philosopher said that?”

Phainon chuckled. “It was a herald this time.” He kept talking, after a stare from Mydei while he wiped the sweat off of his brow. (Phainon couldn’t recall when was the last time he wanted to lick someone’s face this bad.)

“The excellence of the soul is understanding, Mydei.” He stood up from the ground and took some lazy steps towards the latter. “For the man who understands is conscious and devoted- already godlike.” Phainon didn’t stop himself before he stroked some sweaty locks behind Mydei’s ear.

“That herald had too much time to think,” he replied with red tinting his face more reasons than one. “He could’ve been doing more productive things.” He took a few steps away to keep cutting.

“I wouldn’t say they are entirely useless,” phainon’s subtle amusement was like the first sunshine on the snow. Crisp, clean, refreshing, hopeful. “If it gets you this shy.”

Damn this man and his observational skills about the things he liked.

“If you looked at the antiques you buy as carefully as you do to me, you would be a millionaire by now.”

“Which means I’m correct.” Phainon’s smile was the only reason Mydei didn’t punch his guts.

“I don’t like this herald of yours.”

“Complaints to Anaxagoras.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mydei’s whine made Phainon chuckle.

*

Weeks later, several more letters were sent back and forth with the nymphs.

The poor insects were weary from delivering knick knacks for such a long way- therefore Phainon finally made his mind about leaving.

They were soaking in one of the cleaner baths in the biggest building of this tiny village, Illiterate Beast having joined them a while ago.

“Mydei,” Phainon cleared his throat. It didn’t sound raspy anymore.

“Yes?” Mydei answered a little too eagerly but he couldn’t help himself.

“I think we can go back.” Phainon stopped, looking at his hands for a moment. “To home.” He added, softly.

Mydei’s gaze followed Phainon’s to his hands. “Whenever you want.” He accepted softly. “How are you feeling?”

Phainon scoffed, leaning his shoulder onto Mydei’s. “Like shit.” Mydei scoffed for a second as well. “But that’s something, right?” He looked up to Mydei hesitantly, and a little starstruck.

“It truly is.” Mydei felt the looks of the white haired man but didn’t return them. Instead, his fingers found white, short locks. “Do you feel ready?”

“I don’t know.” Phainon shut his eyes. “I just know now I want to see them.” He sighed. “I miss them.”

Mydei smiled, much softer. The letters eased Phainon quite a lot and he was only happy about it.

“Of course.” He pressed his cheek against Phainon’s head. “Whatever you need, it shall be yours.”

Phainon had the habit of ruining moments like this though. “Anything? Really?” He mocked, Mydei’s frown almost audible. “Phainon,” he warned jokingly, but they didn’t talk for a while after that.

It gave Phainon time to feel, therefore words were spilling out of his mouth again. He was too terrified of the moment ending. It felt like it would end if he didn’t physically coil his words like in the very air, it’d disappear.

“I feel like I can stay just like this for the eternity, though.”

Mydei buried his nose into the latter’s hair. “Likewise.”

Phainon snorted. “Really, is that it? Aren’t you supposed to be more romantic than I, my prince?”

Mydei scoffed. “I only need my actions talk instead of I.”

“Yeah? Do you think they are loud enough?” Phainon mocked, but that was true. Mydei’s affection was such a gift, a whale fall in desperate waters.

“You’d be too shy to utter a word, if I also happened to speak my mind.” Phainon’s blush told Mydei all he needed to know. Just as he opened his mouth again to claim hi victory- he was beaten.

“Can I kiss you?” A voice, hoarse, barely recognisable.

“Yes,” came the immediate answer.

Their lips touched- burnt honey, smell of jasmines near the sea, a house that was complete, ready to be moved in.

Like every long awaited thing, it was a little clumsy and so completing to the point that Phainon felt his soul warming again, in the middle of his chest, at the pit of his stomach. Not entirely a forest fire, no. Just consuming.

Phainon could only pray to keep burning.

*

Staying at Crysos Heir’s residence was much comfortable than Phainon could have thought. His few days has been spent as he tried to settle in and everyone approaching him one by one.

A gesture he appreciated, truly.

Phainon sought out Cyrene’s companionship the fifth or sixth thing after he came back Okhema.

He found her on a swing that was connected to nowhere- and took a second to take in what she looks like now.

It was so odd seeing her all grown up like this whereas…

Phainon decided he wouldn’t disturb her before Cyrene spoke up.

“Have you found your voice yet?” Cyrene asked with the gentleness of a web, watching a spider’s prey struggling in the silken net. “Or do you still dwell on other’s echos?”

“Their echos is what made me, me.” Phainon answered, slightly offended with the cruel question. He was still considerably off put by her presence. Of course, she too was changed with the constant pressure of waves on the stones.

“Is that so, Khaslana?”

“Why are you trying to hurt me?” Phainon snapped, his frown deep.

“I’m just tired of seeing you beating yourself over the same things over and over. For a lot of years.”

“You don’t have to watch it anymore, do you?” He was getting uglier, not feeling a lot of guilt over it.

“I understand you found your family here-“ Cyrene’s shut her mouth so fast, her teeth audibly tethered. Phainon’s eyebrows raised.

Oh.

He didn’t really consider how lonely she was. Her loneliness was different from him. At any cycle, if he did want comfort he could at least talk to someone- just communicate. The thought struck his body with a violent startle.

“I,” Phainon started but Cyrene cut in with a gesture of her hand. “I apologise.” She said silently and got off of her swing, which disappeared in thin air.

“I may have grown slightly bitter.”

“Or you are bitter around me.” Phainon replied, his words fast. “I don’t think I remind you of nice things.”

Cyrene stood quietly for a little bit, Phainon watched her fidget a little.

They two felt like kids.

Phainon scoffed, couldn’t help it.

The two kids- bickering and trying to hurt each other like kids do. They were two kids, after all when they first parted.

Two idiots.

Cyrene’s eyes snapped on Phainon’s.

“Sorry, just-“ he was smiling. “We truly are kids.”

Cyrene tried to understand for a second, then started laughing herself.

“Maybe it’s not all that bad.” She replied, her smile remained.

“Reminding you of your childhood isn’t bad, really?” Phainon mocked her, and closed the distance.

Cyrene’s soft looks holding his were expectant. She opened her arms and Phainon hugged her.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Cyrene scoffed.

“It was really hard not to intervene,” her voice quieted down to a whisper, “while you blew however chances you got with the flame head.” She drew back, small grin on her face. Phainon knew that grin- the one that wanted to set right to whatever made her anxious as soon as possible. Cyrene was asking for the impossible. Phainon didn’t really know what impossible meant anymore beyond variables.

So he chuckled softly. He wanted the impossible too.

“I know. Not very good of flirting with that specific specimen of a man.” He leaned on the railing, feeling much more comfortable in the skin of the deliverer, teasing and mocking.

“Didn’t have the time too. You know, delusionally saving the world and all.”

Cyrene couldn’t help her laughter.

“I was jealous of you, you know.” She admitted softly. “You get to do everything and I was stuck.”

Phainon looked at her face like she said something atrocious,

“Are you serious?” He huffed. “I wish I was in your place. At least you were helpful.”

Cyrene’s composure got a little stiff with that.

“Khaslana, we together did everything we could to make it right. And we almost did.”

“We thought we did.” Phainon’s face darkened with the years of destruction. “Then someone traveled here from the sky, solved all our problems and left.”

“We would never be able to do so- it was against our being. You know that.”

Phainon was quiet for a few moments after that.

“I know.” He admitted softly. “Just having a hard time accepting it.”

“You have Ornyx by your side, this time.”

Phainon nodded, a small smile on his face. “Welcome back, Cyrene.”

Her face lit up softly, her eyes teary. If Phainon cried while whining to her about many mishaps of the life and happiness everyone brought him, it was his business.

Cyrene and Phainon were going to fight again. Until the rain comes to a stop, having fed the seeds. It was not to be done in a single conversation. But they both were too tired. Their conflicts could wait until the seeds show their faces in the face of the earth.

*

“Lord Phainon, a little to the left please.” Castorice said, trying to drag Cipher into the baths.

“I don’t like- Ma’am homebody please-“ Cipher whined loudly, her hands on Phainon’s shoulders, pushing herself away from the bath.

Phainon smiled. “You guys are really squishing me here.” He commented with Mydei who was stuck at his side, his arms crossed and Cyrene who was stuck on the other, telling Mydei some stories about their childhood.

Aglaea’s smile was so warm it made Phainon feel a little eased. And some certain man watch her intently. “Everyone missed you, my boy.” She looked tired and felt nothing short of joyful.

“Aw, Snowy is blushing!” Tribbie announced, smiling ear to ear.

Hyacinthia smiled. “Even Professor Anaxa is smiling.”

Aglaea chuckled and got closer to him. Anaxa sighed deeply. “It’s Anaxagoras.” He said under his breath but didn’t comment further.

(He couldn’t. A gorgeous woman was at his side. Have you seen Aglaea? He had seen Aglaea. And was acting accordingly.)

The bath had no rush today, they spent the day lounging lazily, eating snacks and drinking ambrosia.

“Mydei.” Phainon was definitely a little drunk. Mydei wasn’t faring much better.

“Mm?”

“Where are you off to?”

“My quarters.” He said softly. He looked hesitant.

“Do you want to spend the time at mine?”

Phainon’s eyebrows relaxed.

Mydei’s bed was big and comfortable enough for both men to fit comfortably into. And since they spent months together, Mydei’s presence had become a constant. He couldn’t be happier with this fact than he was now as his arms were wrapped around the other man as he lay on his chest, his eyes shut, face red from the alcohol.

Phainon sighed softly.

“I love you,” he admitted again, softly. It made Mydei smile, his eyes shut, tears prickling. He cupped his face, pushed himself until their foreheads touched.

Phainon smelled like ambrosia, sweet, and like gold- like how Mydei thought Mnestia smelled like. So, love smelled like this? Mydei sighed, shaky and wet.

“I love you too, Phainon.”

The kiss they shared was too- shaky and wet.

The morning was lazy, spent in their own company, in (probably theirs now) bed.

They were talking about nonsense before Phainon suddenly came to the realisation.

That Mydei never heard his real name, ever.

(He didn’t mind being Phainon- Khaslana was just as bad when it comes to judging the experiences.)

“Khaslana,” he cut in. “My given name.”

Mydei’s eyes flew open, a little silly. He looked at Khaslana (?). The morning was warm against Mydei’s naked back and Phainon’s legs that stuck out the covers. It smelled of sleep, still.

“Should I address you as that?”

Mydei didn’t even stutter saying that, then he repeated the name- to have a better taste in his mouth. Wonderful wine, his lover was. More drunkening than last night.

Phainon scoffed. “It doesn’t sound bad coming from you.” He couldn’t help but feel stumped though. “How easy, you can just, embrace these things.”

Mydei huffed, his face now buried in Phainon’s neck. “It’s as easy as embracing you.”

“It’s not easy to do so.”

“I’m not a person who would settle for such.” The prince mocked.

“So you think I’m not easy.”

“I am not easy either.”

Phainon’s sulking was getting him nowhere. “Need I remind, Khaslana?” Mydei prodded.

“Now you are doing it on purpose.” He whined.

“Don’t change the topic.” He buried his nose on his nape, inhaling his lover. “Words are not taken lightly in Castrum Kremnos.”

“Funny when you have a dictionary at the page count same as a kid’s bed time story.”

“You just proved my point.” Mydei chuckled, rich. Phainon shut his eyes, smiling.

“I don’t take your words lightly. I just find it hard to believe in.” Phainon finally got enough courage to confess to Mydei, quietly.

Mydei hummed softly.

“Then we just need time.” He locked his hand with the other man, laying beside him. “Mm?”

“Yeah.” Phainon replied. “We happen to have a lot of that.”

He felt Mydei’s smile on his neck.

“And I have the best company I could ever have.” He continued, emboldened with the smile.

“We’ll see about that after you spend decades with me.”

“That’ll not be enough to satiate me, my prince.” Phainon talked sweetly.

“Good.” Mydei held both his cheeks with one hand, making him face the amber eyes. “I plan to make sure you’re fed well.”

The kiss they shared was soft.