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Cyno had been entirely unaware of the encroaching danger. He didn't see the shadows of their pursuers on the cliff face.
Cyrus did.
Without warning, he grabbed both of the children and retreated into the shadows with them. He held them tightly, protectively, a child on either side of him. Breath held, heart beating rapidly, Cyno had begun to tremble, burying his small fists in the fabric of Cyrus’s robe. The voices of their pursuers were only a couple of metres away.
Cyno closed his eyes and turned his head to bury his face into Cyrus’s side. They just had to stay absolutely still, right? If they didn't move, they wouldn't be seen.
The voices began to fade.
Were they okay?
Cyrus began to let out a shaky breath of relief, rubbing Cyno's shoulder reassuringly.
“Stop right there!”
Immediately Cyrus’s hold tightened on both the children. Cyno let out a small cry, burying his face in Cyrus’s robes.
The men had polearms pointed at the three of them, quickly surrounding them and leaving them with no place to flee.
Cyno tried, he really did, but he couldn't stop the tears welling up in his eyes as he pressed close to Cyrus. Sethos was still as a statue, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, green eyes wide and panicked.
The man closest to them, his polearm precariously close to Cyrus’s chest, smirked. “Well, now. Bamoun will be quite happy to see the three of you.”
“Please.” Cyrus's voice came out in a croak. “Don't do this. Don't take the children back to that awful place.”
The last word had barely left his lips, before two more men were approaching on either side of him. Cyno and Sethos were both ripped from Cyrus's arms, crying out his name. Cyno fought desperately, trying to claw at the hand clasped around his arm. He was quickly reprimanded with a swift slap across his cheek.
“No!” Cyrus tried to lunge at them, tried to reach for the boys. But several pairs of hands were holding him back. “Don't you hurt him! Let them both go!”
But it was no use, and the distance between him and the children grew. They were both crying. Cyno's face stung, and that twisted dark voice in his head had returned, echoing in his ears.
He screamed when he saw them put a dagger to Cyrus's throat.
___
Cyno awoke with a gasp. One hand was clutching the sweat-soaked fabric of his shirt across his heart, where he felt its rapid, fearful beat beneath his palm.
He scrambled upright, frantically brushing away the tangled hair that dangled across his face. His panicked eyes darted around the dark room, coming to rest on the window. Cyrus had left it open to let the cool night air in. Outside the full moon illuminated the grass, the trees, its silvery light glinting on the river in the distance.
Cyno choked put a soft gasp, tears welling up in his eyes.
He wasn't out there, he wasn't in the desert. He wasn't in danger. No, all three of them made it back to the rainforest, and Cyrus brought them to Sumeru city.
They were safe. He was safe.
Cyno wrapped his arms around himself, chewing his bottom lip as he tried to blink away the tears in his eyes. He looked over to other bed that was pushed right up to his, where only Sethos’s unkempt mob of brown hair was visible amongst the covers — both Cyno and Sethos had felt much safer being able to sleep right next to each other, so Cyrus had pushed their beds up against each other.
For a moment, Cyno considered just crawling back in under the covers, curling up against Sethos, and trying to fall back asleep.
But, even though it had just been the dream, it had brought back that voice. Quiet, merely murmurs slipping in and out of Cyno's head. But it was still there, and Cyno just wanted it to be quiet and to leave him alone.
He began reaching out a hand towards Sethos, hesitated, then clambered down from the bed instead. The old wooden floorboards of the house were cold beneath Cyno's bare feet, as he crept out of the room and down the short hallway. He carefully, quietly, pushed open the door of the room next to theirs, peeking inside.
Cyrus's room looked much like theirs - empty and sparsely decorated. After all, they've only been in the city for a handful of days. Cyno wasn't even sure if they'd be staying in this house, or if Cyrus would still take them somewhere else. He wasn't sure if he should ask.
Cyno slowly approached Cyrus’s bed. He could hear his breathing, deep and rhythmical. Cyno stood on tiptoes, before he hauled himself up, clumsily scrambling onto the bed. He was a little short to comfortably climb up, but he managed.
Cyrus hummed groggily as he woke, looking over his shoulder with bleary eyes at the child who had just crawled into his bed. Then he smiled sleepily, lifting one arm. Cyno accepted the invitation immediately, slipping underneath Cyrus’s arm and curling up against him.
“Hey kiddo,” Cyrus murmured, closing his eyes again and absent-mindedly stroking the boy's hair.
It wasn't the first night one of the boys crawled into his bed.
“Bad dream?”
Cyno nodded against him, before burying his face into Cyrus's side. While he didn't make a sound, his whole body was trembling.
“Hush now," Cyrus murmured, resting his cheek to the top of Cyno’s head and closing his own eyes again. “It’s over. You're safe.”
Cyrus could scarcely remember what it felt like to dream, much less having nightmares. Whether he was doing much to comfort the boys, he didn't know. He was trying his best.
It's barely been a week since they arrived in Sumeru city. The children had been incredibly weak, the sudden shift in climate seemingly having knocked the breath out of their fragile immune systems. Cyrus was only relieved that he was able to talk his way back into his old position at the Akademiya and, as a result, reclaim the house he'd been staying in prior to the excursion that ended with him at the Temple of Silence.
Cyno shifted, curling up tightly like he was trying to burrow into Cyrus’s side for safety. He's already fallen back asleep, but he was far from peaceful.
Cyrus closed his eyes tiredly. He needed to talk to somebody from Amurta, see if he could do anything to help the children sleep. They were always so restless, often plagued by bad dreams. Now that the pure exhaustion from the journey was finally beginning to taper off, they rarely slept through a night.
Too exhausted, Cyrus felt his thoughts beginning to grow jumbled. He needed to go back to sleep, he had to be at the Akademiya early the next morning. Archons, he still hated the idea of leaving the children alone while he worked, but he had no other choice. He needed the money, desperately.
With Cyno still bundled up against his side, Cyrus finally slipped back into the embrace of sleep.
Dreamless, unlike the children.
_____
When Cyrus awoke, Cyno was still in his bed. He had wrapped himself up in the blankets like a cocoon, curled up tight against Cyrus. For a moment Cyrus simply lay there, watching the little boy sleep. Parental love and affection bubbled in his chest and a small smile found its place on his lips.
Small moments like that made everything worth it. All the struggling, the stress, the fear. It was worth all that and more, just to give these children a good life.
The smile faded. Cyrus hoped he'd be able to give them that life.
Despite his efforts not to wake Cyno when he got up, the moment Cyrus slipped out of bed, the boy's eyes shot open. Immediately small hands buried themselves in the fabric of Cyrus’s sleeve, holding onto him like Cyno was afraid he would disappear in a puff of smoke if he let go. After a moment the initial surprise and panic upon wakening faded from his eyes, and Cyno slowly let go of Cyrus's sleeve, sitting up in bed and sleepily rubbing at his eyes.
“Morning kiddo. Slept okay the last few hours?" Cyrus asked, tucking the messy white hair out of Cyno's face. He wondered if he should consider cutting it. Cyrus quite liked the boys’ long hair, but it was a hassle to take care of. Especially Sethos’s was constantly getting tangled.
Cyno only nodded. He scooted over to the side of the bed, and Cyrus reached over to slip his hands under his armpits, swiftly hoisting him down from the bed. “There you go. Why don't you go wake Sethos and get dressed? I'll make you both breakfast."
Only nodding again, Cyno bounded out of the room, disappearing into the hallway. Even if he's come out of his shell a lot since leaving the temple, he still spoke so little.
After getting dressed himself, Cyrus sauntered into the kitchen to see what breakfast he could scrape together for the children. He grimaced as he inspected the meager contents of his mistflower drawer. He should go to the market again after work. Two growing children were eating a lot more than he had anticipated.
While making breakfast, Cyrus heard the familiar tap-tap of bare feet padding into the room again. He looked over his shoulder, seeing that it was Cyno once again. The little boy stopped a few feet away from him, looking up at Cyno with large eyes.
“Something’s wrong with Sethos." He said in a small voice.
Cyrus nearly dropped the pan.
“What?" He asked. Quickly taking the pan off the old wood-burning stove again, he set it aside and turned to follow Cyno who was already leading him back to their room.
Sethos was still in bed when Cyrus stepped into the room. He was curled up underneath the covers with his face partially nestled into his pillows. Cyno clambered up onto the bed, sitting on his knees next to him.
“Hey, kiddo." Cyrus sat down on the bed, reaching out a hand to comb the hair from his face. “What's wrong?"
The moment his fingers brushed against Sethos's forehead, he felt the heat radiating off his skin. Cyrus's heart instantly sank into his stomach. No, not another fever. Cyno had only just bounced back from one less than forty-eight hours ago, and now it was Sethos?
“Don’t feel well,” Sethos mumbled, pressing his face further into the pillow. The last word seemed to catch in his throat, and he coughed hoarsely.
"Awh, my boy,” Cyrus whispered, brushing back his hair with his fingers.
He stayed calm in front of children, but internally his mind was racing. What was he going to do? He couldn't leave the boys alone while Sethos was sick, but the Grand Sage already made it clear that his position at the Akademiya was on thin ice as it was. He couldn’t miss another day, they wouldn't be able to keep their heads above water without the job.
“Do you want something to eat?" Cyrus asked.
Sethos only shook his head. Cyno silently reached over, stroking the other boy’s shoulder like he was hoping it'd make him feel better. Cyrus's heart all but melted.
“That's okay. You stay in bed a while longer, okay? Cyno, come on out, let him get some more rest. You can have breakfast.”
Cyno didn't protest, giving Sethos's shoulder one more pat, before scooting over and jumping down from the bed. He followed Cyrus out of the room, glancing over his shoulder as he did.
Cyrus's mind was running a million miles a minute, trying to figure out what he was going to do, as he dished up some food for Cyno. Fortunately he seemed to have entirely recovered from his fever a couple of days ago, digging into the food with renewed appetite. Good, that was good. Cyrus was desperate to put some meat on his bones. Both the children were frighteningly underweight.
Cyrus thoughtfully tapped his fingers against the wooden surface of the table, watching Cyno eat. No matter how hard he thought about the matter, he could only think of one manageable solution.
He was going to have to take the children into work with him.
_____
Cyno was completely enamored with the large divine tree that the Akademiya was built in. He looked around with stars in his eyes as he walked next to Cyrus, holding his hand. Cyrus was carrying Sethos on his hip, the boy's cheek cushioned against his shoulder.
A few Akademiya students greeted Cyrus as he walked up the ramp to the front entrance of the Akademiya, most of them giving the children curious looks. One of the younger girls from his class even stopped to kneel down and say hello to Cyno, although the boy's reaction was to immediately duck behind Cyrus’s robe and hide.
Ever since he had returned to the Akademiya, the unspoken question hung like a cloud over the students and other staff. Who were these children? Where did they come from? Cyrus didn't know how he'd answer when somebody finally asked. Orphans from the desert, he supposed, was the most straightforward way to put it. As long as nobody pressed for a further explanation.
Cyrus had been hoping to make it at least all the way to his office that morning before he was questioned, but he didn't get that far. Azar’s gaze honed in on him like a missile, and he immediately made a beeline for them.
“Cyrus!" He barked. “What exactly is going on here?"
Cyno immediately hid behind Cyrus's robes again, timidly peeking up at the Grand Sage. Cyrus stroked the boy's head in reassurance, squaring his shoulders. “I apologise, Grand Sage. I had no choice but to bring the children in with me today. Sethos is running quite the fever you see—"
Azar cut him off, holding up a hand. “I don't care for your excuses, Cyrus. You can't just bring these children into the Akademiya. They will cause a disturbance."
“I promise you, they will do no such thing. They will both be staying in my office the entire time, and I promise you won't even know they're here. I just needed them close to keep an eye on Sethos.”
Azar eyed the children with blatant disdain. Then he scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at Cyrus. "Fine, do as you wish. But if I hear so much as one scholar complain about them getting under their feet—”
"I assure you, they won't.”
Azar simply huffed. He glared at both children one more time, before turning around and striding off. Despite his calm exterior, Cyrus’s heart was in his throat. He let out a long, slow exhale.
"He's scary,” Cyno said in a small voice, timidly watching Azar walk away from behind Cyrus.
"Don't you worry, kiddo. All bark and no bite, that one. Come on, let's go.”
Cyno took his head again and Cyrus walked to the last stretch to his office with them. Fortunately he only had two classes to teach that day, and both were in a couple of hours. Other than that, a mountain of paperwork waited for him. So Cyrus could easily spend most of the day watching over the children. He made Sethos comfortable on the small couch in the corner of his office, where the boy immediately lay down. For Cyno he grabbed a couple of sheets of paper and some pencils he could draw with.
All in all, the day went well. Cyrus spent his time doing paperwork, keeping an eye on the children as he did. Sethos slept a lot, but a few times he felt well enough to sit on the floor with Cyno and draw. Cyno even tried his hand at braiding Sethos's hair once, though he tangled it more than anything else.
Cyrus made a mental note to ask one of the girls in his class to teach him how to braid hair.
It was midday by the time Cyrus had to teach his first class. He had gotten both the children something to eat from the Akademiya Cafeteria, and counted it as a small victory that Sethos at least had somewhat of an appetite. After eating, the boy had curled up on the couch again and promptly fallen asleep. Cyno was sitting on the floor, playing with a couple of wooden building blocks that one of the Kshahrewar professors had brought along when he heard Cyrus had brought the children in.
Cyrus realised with a heavy heart that they were the first real toys they had to play with.
“Alright, I have to go to class now, but the two of you should have everything you need in here,” Cyrus said, picking up the file with his notes and lesson plan. “Cyno, I showed you where I'll be teaching, so you know where to find me if you really need me, right?"
Cyno looked up from the blocks, and nodded.
“Help yourself to any of the juice or snacks I left on the desk. I'll only be gone an hour, okay?"
Another nod.
Cyrus affectionately ruffled the boy's hair, and it almost startled him when Cyno giggled at the action.
He couldn't recall the last time he heard the boy laugh.
Cyno watched Cyrus leave, before he redirected his attention back to the wooden building blocks, which he had been trying to stack into a tall tower.
Time ticked by while Cyno entertained himself. When he grew bored playing with the blocks, he went back to drawing on one of the pieces of paper Cyrus had left for him. He wasn't very good, but it was a lot more fun than drawing in the sand with his finger, like Sethos showed him to do back at the Temple of Silence.
It had probably been a good forty minutes since Cyrus left, when a small shadow dancing across the paper caught Cyno's attention. He looked up, letting out a small gasp of excitement when he saw the butterfly that must have come in through the open window. Cyno stood up, watching the butterfly flutter around the room with a look of awe on his face.
“Sethos," he whispered. “Sethos, look."
But Sethos remained fast asleep.
The butterfly fluttered around the corners of the room, its movements somewhat frantic as it struggled to find the open window again. Cyno stood on tiptoes, waving his hands to try and guide the butterfly back to the window.
“Go that way!" He told it.
The butterfly continued to flutter around aimlessly.
Cyno ran over and scrambled up onto Cyrus’s chair, trying to gently cup the butterfly in his hands to take it back to the window. However catching the butterfly was harder than it looked, and it flew in a different direction.
When he left, Cyrus had left the door to the office slightly ajar, knowing Cyno wouldn't be able to reach the knob if he needed to open it. The butterfly flew through the opening, disappearing out into the hallway. Cyno gasped softly, jumping down from the chair and running out of the office after the butterfly.
He chased it down the hallway, every now and then trying to catch it when it flew low enough to the ground. Finally, he managed to close his small hands around the butterfly, gently cupping it in his palms so he wouldn't accidentally squish its wings. Cyno parted his hands just enough to peek inside, for a moment watching in awe as the butterfly sat in his palms, slowly opening and closing its wings. It was beautiful.
There was an open window just a few steps away, so Cyno walked over and stood on tip-toes. He held out his hands and opened them. The butterfly took flight, fluttering contentedly through the air and down towards the garden beds in the city below.
Cyno leaned on the windowsill, watching the butterfly in mesmerised awe as it flew away. He even waved to it to say goodbye.
There was a small group of Akademiya students coming down the hallway, just as Cyno turned away from the window again. He accidentally bumped into one of them, scrambling back with a small gasp.
“Huh?" The young man looked down, and his eyebrows furrowed. “What's this?"
Cyno took a small step back and away from him, only to bump into another man who had come up behind him. The three of them had surrounded him. Spooked, he tried to run, but one of the students leaned over and snatched the hood of his cloak, holding him back.
"Now, where did this come from?” He asked, lifting the small boy clean off his feet by the collar of his cloak. "Little desert dweller, I see. Who let such a thing into the Akademiya?”
The other two students laughed. Cyno flailed frantically, his small feet beating the air. His red eyes were large and frightened.
"Unusual little creature, isn't he?” One of the other students asked, still laughing. Look at those devilish eyes."
The one holding Cyno lifted him higher, so they were eye level. Panicked, Cyno did the only thing he could think of. He lunged out and bit the arm that held him.
With a startled cry, the man all but threw Cyno to the ground. He hit the tiled floor with a soft little “oof!"
"Desert scum!” Another hand grabbed Cyno by his cloak before he could get to his feet and run. "This is exactly why your type shouldn't be allowed into the city, much less the Akademiya. How did you even get in here?”
Cyno managed to wiggle out of his cloak, trying to run again. The third of the students shoved him, hard, sending him to the floor a second time.
The voice in his head started to speak.
“You didn't answer the question, little brat." The man knelt down, lifting Cyno's head by his hair so he was looking him in the eye. “How did you get in here? If you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from the Akademiya. In fact, you should go right back to the desert where you belong—”
The voice in his head exploded into something Cyno has never experienced before. Instantly the hazy purple silhouettes of purple claws and bandages covered his small arms and suddenly his body was moving outside of his control. He lunged forward, long purple claws swiping at the man who had been holding him by the hair. He leaped back, blood dripping from the grazes across his cheek.
Cyno wanted to run, get out of there, but he had no control over his limbs. Words in a language he didn't understand clouded his head and he felt himself leaping at the man a second time.
“Get back, you monster!"
One of the other men’s shoes swiftly collided with his side, kicking him back and away. Cyno's head knocked against the tiled floor with an audible thud, and he cried out in pain. The blow, while painful, was enough to momentarily clear his head, and Cyno shakily scrambled to his feet. He heard voices, new voices that weren't there before. More people were suddenly filling the hallway. Shouting came from every direction.
Blinded by pure panic, Cyno bolted. Somebody tried to grab him but he shot between their legs, sprinting down the hallway. He didn't know what he was doing, or where he was going, he just needed to get away.
_____
When he was called out of his own lecture by the matra, Cyrus didn't know what to think. But when he saw Cyno's torn cloak in their hands, it felt like the entire world came to a standstill around him.
With every word the matra spoke, the more his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. He sprinted back to his office, desperately hoping, praying, that the children would both be there. But his office door hung wide open, and only Sethos slept blissfully unaware on the couch in the corner. Cyno was gone.
The Akademiya was abuzz with students and matra. Nobody knew where the child had disappeared off to.
Cyrus was the one who found him.
He found Cyno hidden underneath a desk in the House of Daena, huddled tightly into a corner. He had his knees tightly pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, desperately trying to make himself as small as possible. Tears were freely running down his pale cheeks, while a single trickle of blood made its way down his temple.
For a moment he didn't even seem to recognise Cyrus, pressing further up against the wall and trembling violently. His shoulders shook with desperate, frightened sobs.
“Cyno," Cyrus breathed, his voice catching in his throat. He knelt down, slowly and carefully holding a hand out towards him. “Hey, kiddo, it's me. Just me." He shifted so he was holding both arms out towards him. "It's okay, I promise.”
Cyno's lip trembled, and after a moment his face crumpled with fresh tears. He leaned forward into Cyrus’s arms, allowing himself to be pulled out from underneath the desk and into Cyrus's embrace. Immediately his arms wrapped tightly around Cyrus’s next as he broke down into fresh sobs against his chest.
"You're okay, you're safe.” Cyrus sat on the floor, cradling the crying boy in his arms. "Everything is alright, everything is going to be okay.”
"Make him stop!” Cyno sobbed, burying his face into Cyrus's shoulder. He brought one of his hands up to clutch his head, fingers knotting themselves in his bloodstained white hair. “He won't go away, make him stop, Professor Cyrus!"
But Cyrus was powerless to help. All he could do was hold Cyno in his arms while he cried, hugging him, whispering reassurances. His own eyes stung with tears.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
I failed you.
_____
As he sat in the chair next to Cyno's bed in the Bimarstan, Cyrus couldn't stop replaying the events of the day in his head. Questioning if there was anything he could have done differently, anything at all.
He lowered his head so his forehead was cushioned against the arm he had folded on the bed. His other arm was outstretched, hand gently cupping the back of Cyno's head as he slept.
Cyrus had wanted nothing more than to take Cyno home, where he could tuck him into his own bed and hold him for the entire night. But he had known that wasn't an option the moment he had tried to pick Cyno up and he had cried out in pain.
Cyno had been so scared. It was clear as day, the Bimarstan reminded him of the Temple of Silence and the things they did to him. But Cyrus didn't have a choice. Not only did Cyno have two fractured ribs, but he also had a nasty concussion.
Cyrus dug his fingers into the bedsheets, gritting his teeth. He wasn't sure if he's ever felt so angry before in his life.
The story had come out amongst breathless sobs. The butterfly Cyno had followed out of the office to try and set free. The students who had surrounded him. The awful things they said while pushing around the frightened child. Cyno had apologised through his tears, over and over again for the actions that clearly weren't his own. Cyrus had cried as he hushed the boy's desperate apologies, promising him he wasn't in any trouble, that nothing was wrong.
If those three students weren't already in the hands of the matra, Cyrus might not have been able to stop himself from doing something to them.
One of the students from Cyrus's lecture that day, Lisa Minci, had offered to go home with Sethos and watch him for the night. Cyrus was beyond grateful and still didn't know how he was going to make it up to her. At that moment, all he could do was be there for Cyno.
The door to the room softly creaked open, and immediately Cyrus stiffened. He lifted his head, looking over his shoulder. He immediately recognised the man as Taj Radkani, one of the matra who'd spoken to him that day.
“What do you want now?” Cyrus asked, exhausted. “More questioning?"
"No, nothing like that.” Taj closed the door behind him, walking over. He pulled another chair closer, sitting down next to Cyrus. "I'm sorry for intruding so late. How is he?”
“He's alright," Cyrus said softly, looking back towards Cyno. “The doctor said he should make a full recovery.”
"Good, that's good. Listen Cyrus, I wanted to apologise for what happened today. What those three students did, it was horrible, and that is putting it lightly. I wanted you to know all three of them have already been expelled from the Akademiya and will be receiving further punishment for their actions.”
"Cyno isn't in any trouble, is he?" Cyrus asked softly.
“No. His actions were considered to be in self defense."
Cyrus let out a heavy sigh of relief. He wouldn't have let the matra lay so much as a finger on Cyno.
“Where did these children come from, Cyrus?" Taj asked softly, after a long stretch of silence between them.
“The desert. I… they.. it's a long story, Taj. But I couldn't leave them there. The things they were being put through…” Cyrus closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm in over my head.”
"That boy looked at you today with nothing but trust in his eyes. I'd say you're doing alright.”
Taj’s words broke something inside Cyrus. He had to wipe his eyes furiously on his sleeve, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid that the moment he opened his mouth, the sobs would pour out.
Taj didn't press him, simply reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll leave you two to rest,” He said. "Do come by my place at some point, when you're able to. I still have some children's books my son's grown too old for. Your boys might enjoy them. Archon knows, it's hard to find storybooks in Sumeru these days.
“Thank you," Cyrus said, his voice cracking.
It was at that moment that Cyno stirred. He blinked open his eyes tiredly, squinting in the dim lighting of the room. When he saw the unfamiliar man at his bedside, he instantly clung to Cyrus’s arm.
"Hey now, it's okay,” Cyrus said, rubbing the boy’s shoulder. "Taj isn't going to hurt you, I promise.”
"You get well soon, kid, you hear?” Taj said, smiling down at him. "I'll take my leave now. Don't you forget about those books, Cyrus.”
Cyno pressed into Cyrus's arm, tightly holding onto him until Taj had left the room. Then he looked up at Cyrus with large, frightened eyes.
“It's alright now. Go back to sleep." Cyrus gently cupped his head with one hand. “I'm not going anywhere."
“Promise?"
Cyrus nearly started to cry. He leaned over, affectionately pressing his cheek to the top of Cyno's head. “I promise."
I promise I'll protect you.