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It had been because of the stars.
Clancy used to be a star – a red supergiant on the brink of self-destruction, shining brighter than any other in the sky. He burned what he didn’t have, lighting up a room with the intensity of his waning glow. It was already too late by the time the reach of his gravity hit its limit, fading in strength more and more by the day as he felt his grasp begin to slip away. Maybe if he’d just fought harder to prevent the red shift then he might still be okay.
Clancy was a supernova. The death of his star was messy and painful and bright, scattering his stardust across a darkened canvas. There was a moment of explosive beauty as the person he once was fractured into obscurity – the night sky remaining blindingly bright for what may have been seconds or minutes or years until his atoms were recycled into something brand new. Something foreign, but ultimately cut from the same cloth.
And so when the time came, there was no name Nova deemed more fitting to cement his status within the universe he now governed.
There had been a time when Nova had never seen a star. When he was young the city walls had seemed so impenetrable – the sky so abyssal. Closing his eyes was the same as seeing the night sky bearing down on him, inky black remaining a familiar comfort either way. When he saw them for the first time he had wept, quietly tracing the brushstrokes that painted the sky with his fingers as he lay against the earth. The stars had always been there – Nova had just been too blind to see them.
He seldom saw the stars nowadays, but he tried to tell himself that it was enough simply to know that they were there.
Nova and the Torchbearer were made from the same stardust. Nova chalked it up less to cosmic certainty and more to the way his chest had always ached in the other man’s presence, like they had once been part of the same whole and their atoms were desperately trying to reunite. The ache had somehow gotten stronger with distance. Existing within the same orbit becomes more painful when you know you’re destined to never cross paths again.
Nova had recognized Clancy some years ago. The way the man trembled when they locked eyes was so familiar that it dissuaded any doubts he may have had in seconds. They wore the same face, but Nova’s had shifted with age. Nova knew Clancy wouldn’t recognize him, but he didn’t exactly want to give him a chance either. And so he wore the veil to conceal a future that he was determined not to let the other to know was destined to come to pass, and a present that bore its weight down upon Nova’s wearied soul.
Clancy had a scar that spanned his bottom lip and across his chin. It was the first thing Nova had noticed about the man, and he couldn’t help but long for the path that Clancy might one day lead. Nova’s scar was on the bridge of his nose: a mirror image to the ashen markings of the bishop that came before him. Sometimes Nova found himself wishing the Glorious consumed him just as much as it had consumed Nico. Nico was able to let go of the past that haunted him; had drowned it in dark smears and smudged journal entries. The ache had remained, but his tethers to the man that caused it were long buried – the face of a certain Bandito nothing more than a blurred memory.
But Nova remembered. The ashes of the Glorious Gone wrapped around his skull, splitting it in two. It did just enough to numb him, but not enough to take away the shame that sat heavy in his gut each time he dawned his robe, pulled tight like a safety blanket over hunched shoulders. He still remembered the warmth of torchlight and the way yellow petals popped against the vernal landscape. He remembered the smell of damp soil after a thunderstorm and the way the wind felt on his skin while he watched the sun set over the ocean. Most of all he remembered the Torchbearer.
Most of the time he wished he didn’t.
Almost a full year of solitude had passed when the letter had arrived. It was placed delicately on the steps in front of his tower, accompanied by a single faded yellow rose and signed with a blocky script that Nova would be able to recognize at a glance for as long as he lived. He had taken it between his blackened fingers with shaking hands, cringing at the way the ash stained the spots where he gripped it.
Nova,
At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’m glad you know you aren’t him. I’ll admit that it’s a nice name, but I can’t help but wonder why you picked it. Do you remember when I first showed you the constellations? Venus had been so bright that night.
Your paint is lower, and I can’t help but selfishly wonder what might still remain of him in there. We had never gotten that far before, you and I. I have hope that maybe things are different this time. Perhaps it’s misplaced, but what’s the point of trying without hope?
Part of me still misses him – misses you. I’ve never done this before, you know. You were different. I haven’t been able to stomach how we parted ways. It sits heavy on my shoulders, and this is the only way I could think to relieve some of that burden. It’s not fair to either of us, but with the amount that you’re on my mind I couldn’t possibly let it rest. I know that Clancy is out there somewhere. I’d like to believe that maybe you could have just as much hope in him as I do.
I loved you. It’s possible that I still do. Writing this is a weakness, and sending it even more so. If you’ve received this, I think it’s safe to assume the latter.
I can’t wait to find you again.
-TB
Nova hadn’t answered Torchbearer’s letter; knew he couldn’t even if he wanted to. It always sat heavy in the pocket of his robes – the last remaining piece of a life set ablaze by his own hand.
Some nights he just wanted to be held again. He lay curled up in the center of a too-big bed, crying like a child who couldn’t yet sleep alone. Sleepless nights often led to rereading the letter until his eyes stung and the sun had crested her soft glow over the walls. It was his own form of repenting, in a way – reminding himself of what he had lost, and the fragile fact that he would never have it again.
He had long since taken down the wanted posters that lined his streets, unable to stomach the sight of a certain Bandito peering at him from across every alleyway. Most of his face was covered by a bandana and beanie, but Nova couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze followed him wherever he went – honey-brown eyes boring into him like an ever-present reminder of his sins.
Some days he missed them. Some days he pulled the crumpled poster out from under his bed that he had been too sentimental to burn along with the rest. Some days he stared at the man’s face and pretended that he was there with him.
The tenets of Vialism had once again become a cold comfort for him to fall back on. It was the only thing keeping him afloat nowadays – the promise of salvation in an afterlife kinder than this one. His time as a citizen had been fraught with doubt, and he had foolishly hoped that upon usurping power all of his worries would fall away.
It hadn’t been the case.
He still didn’t know most days if what he was doing was right, but the way the neon alters soothed his battered soul was one of the only things keeping him from drifting away entirely. He preached sermon with shaky hands gripping the altar, the blank faces of the people he was supposed to be saving staring him down with dull eyes. It was almost nauseating.
But it was better here. In Trench he felt… too much. It had been a sickness, the way emotion perpetually clouded his mind and left him more broken and bruised each time he tried to escape. Here every day was the same, with the saccharine promise of a happy ending when he eventually left it all behind. If he was helping even one person feel some control over a life that would otherwise be a spiral of meaningless anguish, then he would be happy.
There was a wonderful structure to this city. He just hoped that one day he would be able to see it.
During mass Clancy was one of the few citizens who seemed to cling to Nova’s every word. He always leaned forward in his pew during the vial ceremony, drinking in every minutiae of Nova’s movement like if he looked away for even a moment it would be blasphemy. Nova was that way once, too. It had prepared him well for this moment, and he couldn’t help but think that it would serve Clancy well in turn.
In due time Clancy’s rapt attention turned to listlessness, and Nova recognized the signs before Clancy may have even noticed them within himself.
The first time Clancy had escaped it was because Nova had let him. Clancy was under the pretense that he had somehow tricked the bishop into bringing him outside the walls, but Nova already knew how it was going to end. A fiery diversion and an amateur escape, leaving the vessel Nova had seized a smoldering corpse in the driver's seat.
Nova’s old jacket was folded in the trunk of the car, eagerly awaiting a new set of shoulders to bear its burden. He had seized a vulture to observe Clancy as he stumbled through the uneven terrain of Trench. Despite his movements becoming more and more sluggish as the hours turned to days, there was a sense of purpose behind his gate that never faltered even as the weariness seeped deeper into his bones.
Nova wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted to let Clancy try. To this day he isn't sure why he did it. Something about it just felt right – to allow the man who shared his blood to learn more about the world that he was one day destined to govern.
After deeming that enough time had passed, Nova made the arduous trek into the wild to collect his bounty. It had been years since he had properly set foot outside the city he had once thought a prison – now a home. Every birdsong needled into his skull, their cloying melodies like pointed mockery designed to put Nova on edge as he endured the journey. The hours passed by in a hazy blur of green and yellow on the horizon as his steed charged forward, as if she knew exactly where it was they needed to go. It was only upon seeing the high cliff face of the ravine coming into view in the distance that he fully processed what was to come.
Clancy stood out in the open air, arms hanging limply by his sides as he wearily turned to face the man who had come to take him home. Parts of his clothes were damp from where he had fallen into the stream that flowed lazily through the bed of gravel beneath their feet - no longer able to support himself for extended periods of time following the long journey. Something in Nova’s heart twisted upon seeing the utterly defeated look in Clancy’s eyes, the deep bags under them visible even at a distance.
It was time for both of them to rest.
It was like muscle memory, the way that Nova lowered himself down from the back of his steed and walked calmly over to meet Clancy. He wanted nothing more than to see the pain melt away from the eyes that looked back at him – the eyes that he could have once considered his own. There was only one reliable way to make the hurt stop. He extended his ash colored hands, hovering over either side of Clancy’s face.
“Let us return home, child.”
Clancy nodded, every ounce of strength that he’d had left within him washed away by the creek. Upon receiving Clancy’s permission, Nova made contact with the cool skin on the sides of his neck, leaving behind dark smudges that trailed behind his fingers as he pulled them away. In the same moment that Clancy’s eyes clouded over there was a faint rustling that pricked at his ears coming the cliff face above. Nova didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
He stood strong and stoic at the cliff’s edge, torch in hand as its flame flickered languidly in the wind. Nova’s heart ached, regret and shame pooling in the cavity within his chest as he fought back the rising urge to scream out to the very man who shunned his presence most. He felt impossibly small – any sense of power and grandiosity he had become accustomed to carrying vanishing in an instant.
Torch. His Torch.
He was vaguely aware of the presence of the other rebels that lined the edge of the ravine, but in that moment the world may as well have shrunk down to just the two of them. It was the first time he’d seen the man since they parted all those years ago – since Nova made the hardest decision he’d had to make in his entire life.
He’d known in the moment that Torch would never understand, but some small part of him had hoped that maybe this time would be different. It had been the furthest they’d ever reached - the closest that the two had ever become. He just thought that maybe… maybe they could be happy. Just the two of them, wrapped up in the arms of the other as well as the cold embrace of the necropolis they would rule together.
Torch stilled, expression unreadable at a distance but body language still familiar enough that Nova could sense the sadness that he held in his shoulders. And for a moment he was Clancy again, heart filled with hope and mind clouded with fear, standing cowardly in the shadow of a life that seemed to be slipping from between his fingertips time and time again.
Nova pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, desperately willing himself not to make eye contact with the man he had once loved. His composure was a fragile thing, and Nova knew that if he felt those umber eyes on him for even a moment he ran the risk of falling apart at the seams.
The petals that began to fall around them were duller than they used to be – still yellow, but painted with a washed-out shade when filtered through his maroon-tinted eyes. He’d heard once that bishops couldn’t see yellow. While it might have been true for Nico and any predecessors that came before, it wasn’t for Nova. It almost hurt more – having the very thing that used to bring him the most hope remain just within the edges of his periphery, mere moments from fading away.
It was all too much.
The ashes of the Glorious that painted Clancy’s neck had started to fade as the petals pooled around their feet. Clancy blinked once, then twice; clarity flickering in his eyes as he raised his head to look at the man on the cliff’s edge. Nova’s chest ached dully as he watched the wide smile that split across Clancy’s face.
Right. He was Clancy’s Torch.
Not Nova’s.
Clancy’s.
The Torchbearer swayed ever so slightly on his feet, his usual steadfast composure vanishing in an instant upon seeing the grin that so closely mirrored Nova’s own. Clancy wasn’t supposed to smile.
Something glinted in Clancy’s eyes as he took a fleeting look over his shoulder at Nova–and a far more lingering glance in the Torchbearer’s direction–before stealing himself for the pursuit.
Nova knew what was coming next, and it almost awarded him a sick sense of vindication, getting to be the one to wrench Clancy back to his feet after he tumbled to the ground. The toe of his boot had caught on a stone, sending him careening face first into the gravel. Clancy didn’t seem all too phased by the fall, spitting out a gob of blood that had pooled in his mouth as he continued to smile up at the man on the ledge. The scar on his lip had split open, painting the rocks with errant specks of blood.
Nova tensed, twisting his grip in the fabric of Clancy’s jacket until it cut into his palm, jealousy bubbling up from deep inside him. Why are you smiling? You don’t know Torch. There’s no way that you could know Torch.
Where Nova had concussed himself against a boulder and blacked out for the entirety of his and Nico’s journey home, Clancy seemed determined to put up a fight for the whole thing. He dug his heels into the loose gravel of the ravine, kicking up rocks and thrashing against Nova’s grip as Nova dragged him back towards their concrete sanctum. Nova fought back for as long as he could reasonably muster before resorting once again to smearing the man, allowing him to trail behind at a reasonable distance.
Now that he was out of sight, the risk of him breaking from the bishop’s control was much lower.
Nova spent the entirety of the ride back replaying that moment in his head. The moment that something shifted in Clancy; gave him the spark that he needed to reignite a fight that he’d already surrendered. It had been because of Torch. It had been that smile.
It was only when he returned to his tower that Nova noticed the missing letter from his pocket. His fingers had instinctively wandered to brush over the parchment in his pocket, finding himself in need of a way to ground himself after the events of the day. When his fingertips met nothing but scratchy fabric, it was as if the whole world had splintered before his eyes. It was probably laying somewhere in the gravel, ink bleeding from the page as a lazy stream of water washed over it.
His last connection to love.
His last connection to what could’ve been.
His last connection to a life he so desperately yearned for in the quiet dead of night, when it was dark enough that he could hide from himself within the fragile void.
And so Clancy wept. He cried into the night, cloak thrown bitterly to the floor where it lay crumpled and forgotten. He allowed the tears to run freely until the sun rose over the towers and he had nothing left to give, and when the morning came he dawned the red once more and began his duties. If anybody noticed the red that brimmed the bishop’s eyes during worship the next morning, they knew better than to say anything.
There was a meteor shower the night Nova arrived at the Bandito camp, falling like specks of stardust through the sky. It had been a long and arduous journey – one the other bishops didn’t quite understand his motivations behind. Most other escapees were deemed a lost cause the moment they made it beyond the mountain range that surrounded Dema. If they were going to willingly throw away their salvation, then so be it. Better to have them culled from the branches of their garden than to cling to them as they sewed their seeds of doubt deeper into the soil.
The thought of letting Clancy go without resistance made Nova feel somehow even more trapped beneath the ribs that caged his heart than ever before. Nova wasn’t about to sit idly by and watch Clancy steal his past away from him without first putting up a fight.
He had come through the woods, beckoned by the firelight that cast dancing shadows across the forest floor as it filtered through the trees. He’d anticipated having to wait for hours or perhaps even days to catch a glimpse of his target, but instead he heard his familiar laughter drifting across the wind the minute he broke through the tree line.
Two silhouettes sat side by side on a log bench next to the bonfire, bodies pressed close enough that they would be indistinguishable as two separate people from any greater distance. It seemed as if everyone else had turned in for the night, a tower of used tin dinner plates stacked neatly on a stump on the other side of the fire.
Clancy was leaning on the Torchbearer’s shoulder, laughing about nothing in particular as he pressed his face into the crook of Torch’s neck. Torch’s arm was looped around Clancy’s waist, rubbing circles into the small of his back as Clancy continued to giggle. Torch’s eyes were full of the same softness that haunted Nova’s sleep, a small smile playing across the corners of his lips as he admired the man that sat beside him.
Torch leaned closer to whisper something into Clancy’s ear, bringing his hand up to cup the side of his face in the process. Nova watched as Clancy gave him a small nod and Torch stood up, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Clancy’s forehead before making his way to one of the tents at the center of camp. Clancy’s eyes followed Torch as he ducked into the tent, a soft smile etched into his features and a dusting of pink painted across his cheeks.
Nova didn’t have it in him to hold back the tears that began to stream down his face. He clawed at the sleeves of his cloak, trying to distract himself from the tightness in his chest that seemed to be constricting his lungs. They looked so… happy.
Nova was gone, and Torch was happy.
Nova choked down a sob, wiping at his face with his sleeve as he prepared himself for his confrontation. He wasn’t sure how long Clancy would be alone, but judging by the way the two seemed to be attached at the hip, it wouldn’t be for long. He needed to do this now or he might lose his chance.
He needed to do this now or Torch might forget about him.
He silently emerged from the thicket like an animal stalking his prey, all but gliding towards Clancy as he approached from behind. The dew from the grass kissed the ends of his cloak and crept through the souls of his shoes, stoking the night’s chill that had long since seeped into his bones. Any hesitation he may have been fostering vanished the moment Torch’s lips had met Clancy’s skin – the anger and jealousy that had long simmered just beneath the surface spilling over and spurring him to rashness.
Clancy noticed his presence a split second before Nova’s hands found their mark, his eyes wide as Nova wrenched him back by the throat with practiced ease. Clancy writhed against his grip for a moment before going limp, giving up control like a kitten being picked up by the scruff by its mother. Nova’s fingers left Clancy’s neck a matching shade of black, eyes dull and body limp as the smearing settled deep into his bones.
Nova readjusted his grip to haul Clancy up by his hood, the adrenaline of the moment beginning to wear off as he dragged him through the grass back towards the woods. He kept his eyes on a fixed point in the distance as he fought the intrusive urge to shed his cloak and sprint back into camp – not as their enemy, but as their equal. The faded yellow flowers that littered their path back were already becoming too much for him to handle, each one a nauseating reminder of his choice.
He was furious with Clancy for having taken the one thing he loved from him, but at the same time he knew there was nobody to blame but himself.
His chest was heaving by the time he reached the cover of the woods, ragged breaths escaping his lips as he ensured he was once again safely shrouded in the canopy’s shadow. The last thing he wanted was to linger, but with the way his entire body was trembling he knew he wouldn’t be able to make home any time soon. He leaned Clancy up against the base of a tree, the man slumping forward slightly as he blinked blankly at the camp in the distance.
Nova felt like a small child, desperate to go home without knowing where ‘home’ even was anymore. Part of him wanted to remain in this limbo forever – this uncertain space between his past and present. Here he could pretend like he hadn’t already made his choice; his spiraling thoughts giving way to a fantasy where he was the one resting his head against Torch’s shoulder instead of Clancy.
There was a good reason that Nova hardly ever ventured outside the city walls. He was afraid that if he did, one day he might never come back.
He watched as Torch emerged from his tent, gaze settling on the spot where he had left Clancy alone just moments ago. He froze, eyes blown wide with horror as he registered the empty space where his lover should have been. Nova grimaced, bile threatening to rise in his throat as he witnessed the flurry of emotions that passed over Torch’s face. His whole body was shaking, feet rooted to the spot where he stood as his world came crashing down around him. It wasn’t long before Torch’s knees buckled below him, collapsing to the mossy earth as silent sobs wracked his body.
Nova’s heart hammered against his chest, his composure wavering as he watched the one he loved break down over the very man that had replaced him. Jealousy gnawed at him somewhere deep within his core, threatening to corrode away at the walls of his stomach as the acid churned angrily. Is this how Torch had reacted when Nova had been taken by Nico back then, or was this Clancy different? He hoped for the former, but bitterly assumed the latter. A small whimper fell from Torch’s lips, just barely loud enough for Nova to hear.
He watched as Torch fisted his hands in his hair and pulled harshly, intermittently knocking the heel of his hand against the crown of his head as he curled even further in on himself. It was an anxious habit that Nova was all too familiar with, having spent many a night with his fingers threaded in Torch’s hair after having gently removed the man’s hands from his own head. Neither of them ever said it out loud, but Nova recognized it as the self-punishment that it was. Nova held him against his chest, cheek pressed against Torch’s curls as he sang soft unfinished melodies into the stillness of the night.
Some nights, after Torch’s breathing became even and that radiant smile of his made itself known once again, intertwined limbs would lead to roaming hands and the gentle press of lips against the pulse of the other. Two bodies pressed flush together, fingers worshiping scars that littered the canvas of their skin as sweet nothings were born from warm breaths that caressed the shells of their ears. Promises of devotion – promises of a forever in which nothing was certain except for the two of them.
Did Torch know, then? That forever was a luxury fate would never afford them?
The stars had long since decided that they weren’t meant to be.
The memory of Torch’s lips against his own haunted him like a shadow he could never shake – the way that every kiss felt like worship and every fleeting touch a confession. He was kept awake at night by the phantom feeling of warm hands sliding underneath his shirt and fingers hooked beneath his waistband. Kisses that turned to wandering lips, and breaths that turned to broken sighs as they unraveled each other bit by bit until they lay threadbare in each other’s arms.
Perhaps Nova’s biggest weakness was that he knew deep down he would do just about anything to have that again.
“...Clancy?”
Nova’s whole body tensed, the moment shattering as he whipped around to lock eyes with a very not-smeared Clancy crumpled against the undergrowth next to him. There was something akin to curiosity shining in Clancy’s eyes, and it caused some of his dormant anger to flare up to the surface.
Nova grasped Clancy’s arm without hesitation, hauling him to his feet and digging his nails into Clancy’s arm. Nova was stronger than he looked, and he wanted to make it clear to Clancy that any attempt to run away would end poorly for him. Clancy winced, eyes wide with fear, but with each beat that went by without Nova’s hands on his throat he seemed to relax ever so slightly.
“That’s not my name,” Nova hissed, trying to ignore the way it had made the world feel like it was tilting around him. “You know very well what my name is. I suggest you act like it.” Clancy frowned, the crease between his eyebrows precisely mirroring Nova’s own.
“It is. It’s our name. You just hate the person you used to be so much that you refuse to say it,” he muttered, voice shaking slightly as the words died in his throat. Nova scoffed, equal parts impressed and annoyed with Clancy’s gall. Defiance was a dangerous thing, and Clancy was teetering dangerously close to crossing that line. Nova’s grip tightened wordlessly around the man’s arm.
“You don’t know me,” Nova all but snarls, the words leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. What did this Clancy know of Nova’s strife? About the life that he had left behind? The life that had been usurped by Clancy’s very existence? Even if Clancy had made the connection that he and Nova looked too alike for it to be mere coincidence, there was no possible way he knew the full extent of their intertwined fates.
There was no way he knew of the regret that plagued Nova every waking moment.
Clancy bristled, eyes darkening as a sort of renewed confidence washed over him. “I am you.”
Nova stilled. He what?
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Clancy,” Nova spat, the name like a curse as it fell from his lips. He tugged on Clancy’s arm, annoyance flaring within him as the man dug his feet into the undergrowth to prevent Nova from guiding him any further into the forest. Nova just wanted to get this over with – to be rid of Clancy’s presence so he was no longer forced to look the embodiment of his failures in the eye.
“God, I- will you just listen to me?” Clancy snapped, exasperation bleeding into his words as he tore himself from Nova’s grasp with a forceful jerk of his arm.
Nova’s grip went slack as he blinked dumbly at Clancy, shock interrupting any refute he might have otherwise had. Nova had never dared to talk to Nico like this – had always shied away at the faintest hint of conflict. Despite his best efforts, he suffered the consequences anyway. If he so much as looked at the bishop wrong, Nico would place his hands around his throat, melting away any bit of resistance he may have had within him.
Clancy huffed, eyes flitting to the ground as he trembled silently. Nova couldn’t tell if it was from adrenaline or fear, but his intuition told him it was a mix of the two. He took a shaky gasp, unable to maintain eye contact with the bishop in the wake of his outburst. Something broke within Nova as he realized he was awaiting punishment – a chance to repent. If Nova was any other bishop, it’s likely he would have given it to him.
Nova sighed, closing the few paces between them and placing a darkened finger beneath Clancy’s chin. Clancy flinched violently, and Nova shushed him quietly as he tilted his chin up to look him in the eye.
He had never allowed himself to get this close to Clancy’s face before. He was afraid of Clancy recognizing him for who he was, yes, but mostly he was afraid of what he would find looking back at him. Nova let his hand move from Clancy’s chin as he brought them to either side of his own hood, bringing it down from his head so that the other man could properly see him under the light of the moon. Without the veil the world became crisper – the trees more beautiful as their leaves swayed lightly in the breeze.
“I’m listening, child.”
There were tears pricking at the corners of Clancy’s eyes, and Nova couldn’t decide if he was proud or ashamed to have been the one to put them there. Clancy tugged at the ends of his sleeves - a nervous tic that Nova knew all too well. When Clancy spoke again his voice was shaky and small, and Nova was sure he was only able to decipher it because it was the same as his own.
“...You’re not going to smear me?”
“No,” he sighed, his eyes finding a particularly vibrant dandelion that danced languidly in the wind near Clancy’s feet. “Not this time.”
Clancy faltered, hands coming up to grip the sides of his arms, nails leaving deep red marks in the flesh. Something almost like hope flashed in Clancy’s eyes, but his agitated body language remained - like a prey animal calculating the opportune moment to flee. Nova stared back at him calmly, making sure to keep his hands still by his sides so that Clancy could track his movements. After a moment Clancy let out a shuddering breath, the tension melting from his frame as it dawned on him that Nova was going to keep his word.
“Thank you,” he breathed, causing something inside Nova to twist uncomfortably. The way that Clancy was looking at him made him want to crawl out of his skin. Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it. Why do you look at me with such reverence for a basic kindness?
“...Of course,” Nova sighed, voice coming out far more strained than he would ever like it to in front of one of his citizens. It made him seem weak. “Now, what did you have to tell me?” Clancy shifted between his feet, allowing the silence to linger between them as he searched for the words. He huffed, his shoulders slumping forward in an attempt to make himself smaller.
“Things are getting better,” Clancy sighed after a long beat. “We’re getting better. Every night in Dema I dreamt… dreamt of a life I remembered but hadn’t led,” Clancy whispered through shaky breaths. Nova’s heart sank, the fragment of the truth settling sharp and foreign between his lungs. Clancy’s eyes met Nova’s, and something in Nova’s chest tightened upon seeing the light flecks of yellow and gold that encircled the center of Clancy’s irises.
Clancy unfurled himself ever so slightly, gaining confidence the longer he spoke without the bishop’s hands finding his throat. “I remember now, Clancy. I remember my life – our life. I remember every escape, every song… every tally mark scratched into the walls of our room.”
Clancy bit the inside of his cheek, eyes flitting to the floor as the next words caught in his throat. “I remember Torch,” he whispered, not daring to meet Nova’s eyes. “I remember falling in love with him. I remember being with him.” If Clancy noticed Nova start to tremble, he chose not to say anything. He took a ragged breath before continuing. “When I saw him up on the cliff for the first time, I…” Clancy trailed off, his ears turning a dusty shade of red. “It all just came flooding back.”
“You’re lying,” Nova choked, not having realized that at some point he had stopped breathing. There’s no way what he was saying could be true. Nova didn’t have any recollection of the cycle that came before him, and so this Clancy couldn’t possibly either. And yet…
He had seen the way Clancy and Torch fell into an easy routine back in camp – a level of comfort between them that suggested years of intimacy and trust. Clancy’s head tucked into the crook of Torch’s shoulder in exactly the way that Nova had deemed most comfortable all those years ago.
Nova blinked, suddenly aware of the tears that were brimming his eyes. At some point he’d drawn blood from biting his lip, the taste of iron a familiar comfort as it pooled on his tongue. He sputtered, walls of composure crumbling before him as he struggled to keep himself upright. Clancy frowned, looking at him with a sadness that made Nova want to scream.
And then there was that smile – the way that Clancy’s whole being had lit up upon seeing Torch for the first time. Like two people made from the same stardust whose atoms were being reunited once again.
Nova believed him.
“Okay, and if it’s true? Why tell me?” he muttered, voice coming out small and meek. If he was in Clancy’s shoes he would want nothing to do with Nova – with the version of himself that had thrown their life away. Nova was nothing more than a coward, ruled by fear to the point of giving up the one thing that mattered to him most for the hollow promise of protection and salvation. Clancy should be ashamed of him – ashamed to share a past with someone as pathetic as Nova.
“You’re not like him, you know. Nico,” Clancy said with a tenderness lacing his words, as if he was afraid Nova would shatter if he were to speak any louder. Nova tensed, jerking his head to the side involuntarily as he bit back an inflammatory retort. Clancy was right, and he knew it. Nova had spent all of his time as a bishop trying to convince himself he could be the ruthless leader that he needed to be. He thought that after taking the throne that everything would make sense, but instead it just made the evenings colder and the night terrors more vivid.
Nova pursed his lips as his chest tightened almost imperceptibly more. “None of us are exactly the same as those of us who came before.”
“Except for me,” Clancy breathed, a sad smile playing across his lips. Nova chuckled, Clancy’s words a tender truth that clawed at the still-raw wound over his heart. Nova’s nails cut into the palms of his hands, suddenly mortified by the presence of the red that draped his shoulders. If this man truly was him, Nova owed him some sort of explanation for what he had allowed himself to become.
“I’m just… I’m trying to help people,” Nova said through gritted teeth. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hiding what little parts of his ash marks that he could. “For as long as Dema exists then so will Vialism, and with Vialism comes comfort and purpose in an otherwise hopeless existence.” He didn’t even know if he meant it as he said it – he’d just always repeated it to himself ad nauseum in the desperate hope of it becoming true.
“It’s the only thing that keeps me sane – knowing that one day I’ll rest with the Glorious Gone once my work is done.” He sighed, bringing his blackened hands up to press the heels against his eye sockets. “But I’m… I’m trying to be better. I know I can do better.”
“I know,” Clancy said, a sad smile ghosting the corners of his lips. “You’re the reason I’m here in the first place. You’re the reason I have Torch in my life. The reason he still calls me his.” Nova’s breathing stuttered, and he barely caught the faint ‘I’m sorry’ that Clancy breathed into the fragile space between them.
And God, he would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. It hurt more than anything – the knowledge that there was a version of himself out there living the life that he would give absolutely anything to have. When Nova had been watching the two of them from the woods, he had been struck by just how happy the two had seemed. At the time it had made him angry. But now… well. Maybe… maybe if Nova and Clancy were two halves of the same soul, then Clancy would be able to love Torch just as Nova did.
“I really loved-” Nova choked, the lie catching in his throat and threatening to rise like bile from the pit of his stomach. Clancy’s eyes softened, raising his eyebrow slightly as he encouraged Nova to continue. “I-” he gasped, absently playing with the fabric of his cloak between the tips of his fingers to keep himself grounded. When it slipped past his lips it was barely audible, like if he said it any louder the universe would be able to hear him. “I really love him.”
He hadn’t said it out loud since the day he was born anew. That very morning he had been sure he would be saying it until he took his final breath, unaware that the last time had already slipped through his fingers.
Clancy was quiet for a moment, eyes scanning Nova’s face. If he noticed the way that Nova’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, he mercifully chose not to comment on it. “I know,” Clancy said, soft and gentle in a way that Nova knew he didn’t deserve. “I love him because you love him.”
When Nova laughed it came out wet and shaky, tears now spilling freely down his cheeks. If what Clancy was saying was true, then it was the very same heart beating within both of their chests. The same heart that would forever nurse an eternal flame for Torch, now kindling in the hearth between Clancy’s ribs.
“Does he ever talk about me?” It made Nova feel pathetic – the sheer amount of longing present in his voice, pointing towards an all-consuming weakness he could no longer deny. As much as the question had plagued his every waking moment since he first dawned his robe, he wasn’t certain that he wanted to know the answer. Nova knew that no matter which way the answer went, it would be the thing to keep him up at night for years to come.
“Yeah,” Clancy breathed. “Yeah, he does.” Nova nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth to keep it from trembling. He fought back the urge to ask more – to know what exactly it was that Torch was saying about him. This was already bordering on being too much – was already going to be the regret to haunt his every thought from here on out.
“...Be good to him for me,” Nova choked out through ragged breaths. “Please just… just take care of him. He deserves someone who will love him just as much as he loves them.”
“Clancy-” Clancy said softly, reaching towards Nova and placing a gentle hand on top of the rough fabric on his shoulder. Nova flinched, but didn’t make a move to shy away from the touch.
“Don’t… don’t call me that,” he huffed. The pity-filled look that Clancy gave in return made his stomach churn. Clancy took another small step forward, gaze boring into Nova with a question brewing behind his eyes. Nova blinked, disturbed by his inability to read the eyes that were essentially his own.
Clancy seemed to find the answer he was looking for, because before he knew it Clancy was pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Nova gasped, alarm bells sounding in his head as Clancy’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, tightening his grip as he held Nova against him. Clancy was painfully thin, bones sharp where they cut into Nova’s sides. Somewhere in the back of his mind Nova registered that it was his fault he could feel Clancy’s ribcage against his own, and the last piece of composure he had clung to shattered in an instant.
And so Nova wept. He pressed his face into Clancy’s shoulder, body shaking with ragged sobs as Clancy’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sorry,” he choked between sobs. “I’m so sorry.” Nova repeated it like a prayer, whispering it over and over again until his breath ran out. Clancy didn’t respond – simply squeezing Nova’s shoulders as he allowed him to cry.
It was like a dam had shattered within him, years of shame and longing breaking through the cracks in his walls. They stayed like that for what felt like an hour, Clancy refusing to let go until Nova stopped trembling despite the other’s incensed protests. Nova made no move to pull away. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged.
It was pathetic, really – being comforted by a version of himself that was better in every possible way. If Clancy was him then he was also exactly who he wishes he still was. And here Nova was, clinging to him like a scared animal learning of its own mortality for the first time. He had been so horrible to Clancy, and yet he still took him into his arms like he was deserving of the world.
Nova wiped at his eyes with his sleeve as he pulled away, gaze locked on the ground as he jerked his head in Torch’s direction. Nova was sure they would send out a search party in due time, but for now Torch was paralyzed with grief. If they didn’t move soon, it wouldn’t be long until the Banditos found them. Nova sighed, carding a hand through his hair–just a little bit longer than Clancy’s–as the decision cemented itself in his mind.
“Go to him,” Nova said flatly. Clancy’s eyes widened, looking between him and where Torch lay curled up by the fire, a question in his eyes. Nova pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to prevent more tears from spilling down his cheeks. Clancy made no move to leave, instead waiting for confirmation that Nova meant what he was saying. Nova bit his lip, unable to look Clancy in the eye. “He… he needs you.”
Clancy nodded, a crooked smile splitting across his face as he let out a shaky breath somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “Thank you,” Clancy whispered under his breath, tears of his own springing to his eyes as he watched Nova turn to leave.
Nova looked over his shoulder where Clancy was still swaying lightly on his feet. He took the fabric of his hood between his fingers, pulling it back over his head and obscuring his periphery. “I’ll be back again one of these days,” he spoke slowly. “You know that, right?”
A small, sad smile played across Clancy’s features. “I know.”
Nova nodded. Clancy smiled back.
Nova watched as Clancy stepped over the threshold of the forest, moving slowly at first before breaking into a sprint towards where his lover lay against the earth. He cried his name, throwing his arms around Torch’s body as he collapsed on top of him. Torch gasped, sobs morphing to tears of relief as he moved to clutch Clancy against him.
He watched as Clancy took Torch’s face between his hands. Watched the way Torch melted against his touch and allowed himself to be pulled towards the other as Clancy brought their lips together in a desperate kiss. Watched as relieved laughter tumbled from their mouths as they kissed and kissed and kissed – their tears mingling together as they breathed reassurance into each other’s ears. Clancy buried his face into Torch’s chest, clutching him as if he held the entire world in the space between his arms.
Nova brought an ashen hand up to his lips, fingers gracing across them softly as he finally made his way back to his steed.
When Nova returned home the Neon felt dimmer than it had before. The ink well on his desk sat dusty and untouched, the ink almost having run dry from years of disuse. It had just enough to fulfill his purpose; the typewriter feeling too impersonal for what he was about to write. His pen met paper, looping script foreign yet familiar, flowing from his fingers and greeting him like an old friend.
TB,
Venus is duller than it used to be. Whether that’s because of Dema’s haze or my own infliction, I’m unsure. Whatever it may be, I miss it. I miss you.
I can see you, you know. I’m sure this isn’t news to you, but it’s been weighing on me ever since I saw you up on that cliff face. I saw the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t looking back, and I can hardly stand to catch my reflection in the mirror knowing I was the one that caused you to react that way. I don’t know. I just needed to make sure you knew, and that I think of you often.
Sometimes I find myself wanting to return to you. Other times I wish I didn’t remember you at all. But then again, what’s a star without the universe it resides within? As much as the memories hurt, I don’t think that’s a question with an answer I ever want to find out. I very well could change my mind later, but for now my truth is this: I would love to hear from you again.
I met Clancy. He’s everything I was and everything I wish I had become. I’m happy you found him. He’s good.
You’re good.
Cover me,
- Clancy Nova