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The Greatest of the Sages has fallen. He has split his being into many fragments, but where do his vulpine companions flee to? The ground rumbles as it drinks spilled blood, but where are the Tighnarians?
Infighting is rife, the end is nigh. Far do the citizens run, far from the Great Sapphire Ruin of Tulaytullah. Not the first grand civilisation to crumble, and certainly not the last. Glorious Al-Ahmar, wise Hermanubis; shadows which shall haunt those with ears of the desert foxes and minds of the highest sages.
Curses, curses! Curses to them all–
Cyno awoke with a jolt. Since obtaining the second Ba fragment, his mind had been restless with pains and vague visions of a bygone world, not dissimilar to that which he saw in his childhood. Fortunately, he didn't have to look far to wonder where his Tighnarian was.
Tighnari was fast asleep, half-falling off the single bed they shared. His tail was swaying side to side lazily, probably in the midsts of a pleasant dream, and his lips were slightly parted as they took gentle breaths. Awake, asleep, in health or in sickness, Cyno had never seen someone more captivating.
He pulled his beloved closer, pressing that warm body against himself. The sight of that unguarded face could have held him hostage for hours – days, even – but Tighnari's heightened senses awoke him at the slightest disturbance.
“Everything okay?” Came a gentle murmur, a wandering hand that danced along Cyno's side and made his chest feel funny. Tighnari's eyes opened, sleepy and concerned and a divine hue of hazel. Archons, it was like falling in love all over again with every look.
“You were going to fall off the bed.”
Tighnari hummed drowsily, tangling their legs together and attempting to wriggle impossibly closer. According to Collei, he’d been wearier than usual these past few weeks, and deserved the rest Cyno had just so cruelly stolen from him in preventing a morning tumble. “Maybe you should hold me tighter.”
“I wouldn't let go if someone didn't flail so much. Unfortunately for you, I quite value my ribs.”
“Mm, whatever. Can I go back to sleep?”
“Of course. I'm not going anywhere.”
Tighnari hummed once more, but this time, it was satisfied. With a fond kiss to whatever patch of Cyno's skin was in front of his lips, he mumbled something incoherent and drifted right back into the dream world.
Cyno joined him not long after, enjoying the familiarity of a dreamless slumber with something (or someone) special to hold. As a child, he'd hardly ever slept without one of Cyrus’ gifts to him – a couple ragged stuffed toys, which somehow dispelled the incessant nighttime chanting and his ill-timed fits of paranoia. In the many hours he'd spent brooding, he'd occasionally wondered if Collei and Culein-Anbar's relationship functioned in a similar way. Perhaps.
The next time he woke, it was to the trilling birdsong of Avidya Forest, and Tighnari cursing rather loudly. He sat up immediately, only to find Tighnari in his underclothes and nursing his bare foot. He was stood up, hair tussled and face twisted in a dramatic scowl. “Stupid fucking- bastard table leg-”
“Swearing's not like you.” Cyno yawned, stretching the sleep out of his limbs but not yet standing. Time off with Tighnari allowed him to be a little lazy, and these blankets were just so much more comfortable than his own.
“I know, I know, I was just… deep in my head, and figured I'd gotten past the point of tripping over anything in my own house.” Tighnari patted the table, in what seemed to be an apology for swearing at it. Huh. Maybe that was what he meant by every lifeform needing respect – even post-industrialisation.
“Huh. In that case… I guess you could say it caught you toe-tally by surprise.”
There was a moment of silence, in which Cyno spied Tighnari's shoulders tensing. He decided it was because of secret amusement, and not exasperation. Eventually, Tighnari sagged, turning to face him with a disappointed expression. “It's not even midday. Mercy, please.”
Cyno grinned, rising from the mattress and cupping Tighnari's cheek. Without the other's boots, they were very almost the same height, and he enjoyed planting kisses on those tender lips whenever he wanted. Just because he could.
Fortunately, Tighnari had not decided to punish his early start by denying his affections, accepting the kiss he was given with a quiet grunt. The two stood like that for a few moments, enjoying the quiet intimacy of simply being with each other. Recently, Cyno had been in the desert more often than not, and Tighnari had been dealing with the changeover to the rainy season.
Not only had their in-person visits been few and far-between, but the letters, too, had slowed to perhaps one every fortnight. Tighnari's tail flicked contentedly, eyes fluttering shut. Nothing felt as good as the gentle touches. “I still need to dress. Will you go out and ask Amir for a list of tasks we need to get done?”
Of course, time off for Cyno did not mean Tighnari would start slacking, too. Not like it mattered. Cyno quite enjoyed long patrols, observing plants and rescuing the odd animal. He would always prefer his homeland, but the forest – when with Tighnari – truly did feel revitalising. “I will.”
Once alone, the peacefulness in Tighnari's features faded to a thoughtful frown. Cyno had hit the nail on the head when pointing out that swearing wasn't like him. Nothing felt like him, recently.
Admittedly, Cyno wasn't the only one who'd been feeling out of sorts since their trip to the Temple of Silence. Tighnari, too, had been left with many more questions than when he entered.
He’d been pondering the tales Sethos had told them constantly. He was by no means an insecure person, nor did he doubt Cyno’s goodwill, but he just couldn’t shake the cloud that hung over his head. A cloud that rained over him, each droplet asking how much Cyno actually wanted to be with him, and how much was just the Ba fragment’s influence.
Cyno was a brilliant partner. The best Tighnari could ask for. He was attentive, he was respectful, he was loyal. Though, his loyalty could be described as a fatal flaw. Without regulation, it became blinding and made him ignorant. What if… Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that.
Why was he so drawn to the past? Why was he so worked up about this? And how long had Cyno and he really been destined to meet? Tighnari had no solid opinion on the afterlife or reincarnation, but the parallels were striking.
It left him in a mood to hide away and contemplate. However, a week from now, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Cyno and he had agreed to meet at Lambad's for a meal. Tighnari, frankly, did not want to be anywhere near the city; it’d only grate on his nerves, but he planned to go anyway. After all, being social was good for a jittering mind.
For now, though, he smoothed his expression and joined Cyno outside. Amir had left them with a sufficient list of chores, giving them ample time together before Cyno's return to Sumeru City tomorrow.
“Excited?” Tighnari leaned over Cyno's shoulder, skimming the list. Nobody stared anymore, having grown quite used to their chief officer's cosy proximity to the General Mahamatra.
“Thrilled. Collei and Nasrin are on morning patrol, so Amir recommended we go check on the Rishboland Tiger family nesting just south of Ghanda Hill.” Cyno glanced at Tighnari, eyes skimming his body and settling on his ears. “You're not wearing your earring?”
“Huh?” Tighnari felt his ear, where – true to Cyno's words – the golden ornament was missing. “Oh, well… it wasn't on my desk, and I didn't want to waste time finding it. Should we go?”
He received a long, appraising look in turn, but eventually Cyno just hummed and shrugged. “After you, General Watchleader.”
“Don't start with that title, you bumbling sumpter beast.”
“Charming.”
Thus, hand in hand, they trekked over gnarled roots and under bountiful fruit trees. It was now undoubtedly the wet season, but Ghanda Hill and Avidya Forest were relatively temperate compared to, say, the gloom of Apam Woods.
Tighnari didn't misstep once, belonging to the forest as much as the rich soil or prowling big cats. He reflected the verdant wildlife and prosperous wisdom of Sumeru as much as Cyno embodied the arid dunes and blazing sun. As if two parts to a whole, they seemed to complete each other in every way.
Much to Cyno's chagrin, the tranquillity of their silent walk didn't last long. Tighnari held an arm out, and pointed upwards. He mourned his grasp on that leather glove.
Predictably, a family of Rishboland Tigers were slumbering overhead in the trees. “Can you spot the baby?”
Cyno circled the branch, eyes widening just slightly when he spotted a mass of white fur amidst rustic browns. “Is that…?”
“An albino baby, yeah.” Tighnari was smiling fondly at the snoozing cub, voice even lower than his usual soothing lull. “The first one we've ever recorded.”
Albino animals were rarely recorded, usually because their poor camouflage resulted in an early end at the hands of predators. With the forest watchers observing them closely, though, Cyno had no doubt this unlikely coincidence of nature would flourish. After all, Tighnari had a knack for taking misfits under his wing, and helping them bloom.
“I just need to take a couple notes, feel free to rest.” Tighnari retrieved his notebook and pen, peering up every so often before returning to his eager scribbling. Cyno, meanwhile, occupied himself with staring. He did try to observe the cub a little more, but like a magnet his eyes were drawn back to their usual resting spot.
Tighnari looked nice. Well, Tighnari always looked nice, but there was a certain appeal in the furrow of his brows, the way he scripted with such enthusiasm. He'd never quite look as radiant as when he was really enjoying himself. And that was here, away from academia and nuisances and other material bothers. With only Cyno and nature, that was where he truly came to life.
Though, Cyno couldn't help but linger on the missing earring. Not like it was a big deal, but Tighnari took great pride in his appearance. He was neither insecure nor self-absorbed, yet enjoyed the satisfaction of being put-together. Which was maybe why the crass language, lack of jewellery and slightly ruffled hair was rubbing Cyno so wrong.
“Have you been alright?” He asked abruptly, woeful to pull Tighnari from that concentrated little bubble, yet unable to stop himself. Tighnari lifted his gaze, pausing for just a few moments.
“Fine, if a little stressed. But that's life. Have you been okay?” His eyes were calculating, if a little concerned. Sometimes Cyno was straight-up about what was on his mind, other times he was as cryptic as a lock.
Stressed. Of course, that made sense. Tighnari had a lot on his plate. “Yes. I didn't mean to distract you.”
“You're fine, I just need to-” Tighnari paused, seeming to think better of whatever he was going to say. “I have everything I need. Let's go back and we can play a game of TCG before you help me check patrol logs.”
Cyno wanted to protest, because no doubt he had hardly had enough time to get anything helpful down, but refusing Tighnari was a very difficult task indeed. After a few seconds of rather intense eye contact, he stiffly responded, “Okay.”
They walked back to Gandharva Ville, where he pretended not to notice Tighnari giving Collei a silent side eye that spoke a million words. Once in Tighnari's kitchen, the two got their decks out, steaming mugs of chamomile resting on hand-decorated coasters.
The rain pattered gently against the window, though its soothing tapping seemed to juxtapose the buzzing undercurrent of tension. Clearly something was bothering Tighnari, but he was stubbornly keeping his mouth shut.
And so they played a round, then another, and then moved onto their third. Hardly a word was spoken, even when Cyno decimated the other deck twice without struggle.
Tighnari was, admittedly, not playing his best game. He'd only proposed it to get Cyno off his back and ease any worries, but he should have known any slacking would get noticed immediately.
“I've had a tougher time playing against my helmet, you know.”
“Huh. I didn't see why I should put any effort in, given how easy you're going on me.”
The two stared at each other, searching for any vulnerability whilst hiding their own. Tighnari’s tail flicked behind him, the one part of himself he had no control over. Cyno met his gaze stubbornly, determined to make the other crack.
Tighnari, strangely, was the first to concede. He sighed and put away his deck. They wouldn't be doing this today. By now, they should trust each other and communicate like real adults rather than kick up a fuss. “We should check those logs.”
Cyno nodded in agreement, packing up his own belongings. A light sensation of something blossomed like an ugly vine in his chest, hand prickling with the urge to hold the other and never let go. Apologetically, he grasped Tighnari's wrist, pulling him closer and being rewarded with a chaste kiss for reaching out.
“Okay?” Tighnari murmured, a silent agreement to put aside whatever restlessness they were both feeling. Opportunities to be in a shared space wouldn't be available on demand. They ought to make the most of it.
There was no pressure to talk, but Cyno knew he could if he wanted to. It was an apology and a reassurance and an affirmation in one simple word. Or one simple question. Whatever. Specifics didn't matter with Tighnari. “Okay.”
And there was that smile he'd go to war for. “Good.”
***
After a long couple hours of analysing patrol logs and collecting data (most of which was just mindless droning), Cyno spoke up. “Tighnari.”
“Hm?”
“Says here Shirin saw some kind of uncommon bird the other day. What's orange and sounds like a parrot?”
“A parrot?” Tighnari sat back in his chair, tapping his chin with a pen. The earlier tension – fortunately – had dissipated, leaving only a comfortable working environment. “Well, considering Shirin mostly sticks to patrol routes around the north of Avidya Forest-”
“A carrot.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A carrot.” Cyno's face was dead serious. “Do you get it? Carrots are orange vegetables, and carrot rhymes with- Ow, that hurt.”
Admittedly, he'd seen the throw pillow coming a mile away (Oh, hah, get it? Throw pillow?). He just liked the irritated expression Tighnari made when it was specifically Cyno that got on his nerves. His brow would furrow just slightly, and his lips would tug downwards like otherwise they'd lift into a smirk. Most amusingly, his nose would scrunch like a particularly penetrating scent had bothered his sensitive olfactory system.
“Don't lie to me, moron. That didn't hurt. You could've stopped it if you wanted to.”
“How could I ever intercept something your brilliant mind willed? Something that was thrown by your dexterous hands?”
“Oh, ew, stop that.” Nevertheless, a pleasant pink had painted Tighnari's cheeks, as he stood up and closed a meticulously organised binder. Cyno was the less social of the two (and that was saying something), but Tighnari could never really shake off the embarrassment that came with being wooed. “Lunch, or would you rather continue your blathering and starve?”
Admittedly, Cyno’s dependable attentiveness was also improving his mood, though that doubt hadn’t yet dulled. He had an odd thought that maybe Cyno was only pretending, then realised he was being ridiculous. Cyno had an awful lot of talents in his arsenal, but faking interest was not one of them. For several years, nonetheless.
“I could eat.”
“You could, but should I let you?”
“Wow. Cruel, cruel scholar torments the humble general.”
“Oh, please.”
The two meandered into the kitchen, where Cyno immediately got to work being the best sous chef he could possibly be. It was no secret he liked taking orders. Many raging scholars had called him a blinded-by-loyalty hound for it, but that didn't phase him. Cyno wasn't insecure, and accepted orders he knew would benefit his nation and uphold justice. Or orders that would make a good meal.
With Tighnari, he'd do anything asked of him and more. Anything at all. From tearing down Celestia, to passing the thyme.
They moved in content silence, broken only by Tighnari's soft pleases and thank yous. Eventually, once lunch was prepared, they sat down and ate, enjoying the fulfillment that came with simple proximity. Even if dinner with friends was planned for the future, Cyno wanted to stay in the present moment and drink in Tighnari's face for the rest of time.
The Ba fragments, however, did not seem to be on the same wavelength as him. A sudden pressure around his temples interrupted his staring. Cyno braced himself for another round of cryptic visions of doom, but this one was rather short. And rather disturbing.
A stray Tighnarian had become entangled in the eremite infighting. Ears and tail wrenched from the body, their young, mangled corpse was paraded through the collapsing streets of Tulaytullah as a taunt, a warning. Curses to all those who had not intervened. Curses, curses–
Oh, Archons. That couldn't have been a memory from Hermanubis directly, so what was that? Some nasty trick played by his subconscious? An omen of some kind? No, he shouldn't think like that. Still, the image of a Tighnarian lacking their signature features was burned behind his eyelids.
“Teyvat to Cyno,” Tighnari cooed, lifting the other's chin. “You're spacing out on me. Are you not hungry?”
Cyno blinked, eyes zeroing in on Tighnari's ears. Still very much attached, and currently twitching with endearing concern. Shaking his head, he relayed the vision. Tighnari's face pinched with something like empathy and disgust.
“Jeez, no wonder you lost your appetite. Here, I'll save it and you can take the rest as a snack for tomorrow.” Tighnari rose to his feet, giving Cyno's shoulder a reassuring rub before packaging his food. Gods, what would he do without him?
“I've seen worse, I was just… caught off guard. Caught off guard because-”
“Because they vaguely resembled me?”
Cyno swallowed that strange lump that rose whenever he pictured Tighnari getting hurt. Tighnari was incredibly self-sufficient, so much so that observing him caught weak or injured disturbed him deeply. “I suppose so. Apologies for interrupting lunch, let me help-”
“Cyno.”
Cyno stopped in his tracks, letting Tighnari's fingers dance up his arm, from fingertip to shoulder. “It would mean a lot to me if you let me do this. I would feel better knowing you're processing what you're seeing and letting it pass. Better to brood and complain than compartmentalise and later burst, right?”
Better to brood and complain than compartmentalise and later burst. Cyno's stomach made an odd swooping motion as Tighnari parroted words Cyrus had spoken when he was a kid. If he'd been the same person he'd been when Cyrus had said the same thing, he would've stormed off in a paranoid huff.
However, Tighnari's kind eyes and grounding touch made him very hard to refuse indeed. “Right.” So, reluctantly, he stayed down and repeated old questions to himself in Lisa's voice. How had that made him feel? Why? Well, like shit, because he didn't like getting visions of his significant other's ancestors being tortured.
He wasn't one to deny the effect of basic grounding techniques, though. By the time Tighnari beckoned him back to the office, he felt marginally better and much less disturbed. For someone who had explored the stricken side of knowledge far too intimately, Cyno had expected to have a stronger stomach. Then again, Tighnari challenged his perception of self regularly. Perhaps for the better.
“Patrol logs, patrol logs, where were we?” Tighnari muttered, picking up that girthy binder. Seriously, the secrets of the whole forest appeared to be hidden in those pages.
“Can we stop for today?” Cyno asked abruptly, pulling the attention to himself. Tighnari blinked and tilted his head, the action foxlike and accidentally charming. “Ahem… Let me rephrase. I understand this is a task that needs completing – and I'm happy to see this through to the end – but I just want to… relax with you.”
A half-truth. Cyno was used to working through his own discomforts; the recent comeback of old headaches and ailments didn't bother him massively. What did bother him, however, was that Tighnari, too, was clearly hung up about something.
And that needed remedying. He was no master of communication, and wouldn't be able to express his own worries the same way Tighnari had just serenely guided him through an unpleasant experience.
Moreover, Tighnari was stubborn, and Cyno highly doubted he'd listen even if he did express his worries. Thus, he'd make up for it with acts of service. And maybe by tricking Tighnari into half a day off. They’d already wasted most of it, anyway.
“If that's what you want,” Tighnari conceded, probably willing to be a bit of a pushover because of what had just happened at the dinner table. Oh well, he couldn't say he didn't appreciate the care. “How about a bath?”
Cyno nodded, following him to the bathroom and pretending to study the different oils presented to him. How did one treat their genius boyfriend without being halted by his intellect?
Eventually, he settled on two of Tighnari's favourites and one he was personally quite fond of. You know. To throw him off his scent. Tighnari wouldn't suspect anything if all went to plan.
The two stripped down, Cyno insisting he be the one to bracket him with his legs rather than vice versa. As he soothed himself with the repetitive rhythm of tending to Tighnari's tail, he keenly noted every droop of the ears, every content sigh.
Tighnari leaned his head back onto Cyno's shoulder. “This is nice.” His voice was low, shoulders considerably looser than they had been in weeks. Lightning scars were wont to fade after some time, but Tighnari's had never quite disappeared for reasons nobody could explain.
They coagulated at the direct strike point on his right shoulder, before branching out down past his hip and up to the tips of his fingers. No longer festering and red, but a rather unnatural periwinkle, almost like a second set of veins. Not hugely distracting by themselves, but Tighnari wore anything like it was fine silk. And Cyno, in turn, was hopelessly drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.
“Your tail's even softer than usual,” Cyno pointed out, voice so quiet he could barely hear himself. But he knew Tighnari could hear him, and that was all that mattered.
“I'm trying something new. Do you like it?”
“Of course. Tilt to the left a little, though. I'd hate to leave any fur unlathered.” He was rewarded with a quiet chuckle and an obedient shuffle, ending up with a soaking tail in his lap and a Valuka Shuna pressed against his side.
It may not have been Celestia, but it must have been somewhere close. The Tighnarians had been majorly priests, but perhaps somewhere along the way the divinity had rubbed off on them and resulted in the blessing before him now.
Cyno did not consider himself particularly pious, despite his entanglement in numerous divine boons. He honoured Hermanubis, he obeyed and respected Lord Kusanali. But here, where each benign caress was salvation, and each smitten glance was revelation, perhaps he was foremost a devotee, after all. To his own religion, anyway, sat snugly against his collarbone.
“I love you,” he mumbled without thinking, reaching for the body soap made specifically not to irritate Tighnari's lichtenberg figures. His calloused hands moved over bare skin with careful dexterity, patiently doing things exactly how Tighnari liked it.
So far, his plan was working: Tighnari was all but melting against him, purring quietly in his chest as Cyno's fingers tenderly eased the tension from his muscles. Next, he'd try coaxing him into a nap, and if not they could always read together.
“You know, I proposed a bath for you, not… not me.” Tighnari didn’t respond verbally to his confession, but he didn’t need to. The way he was acting was an answer in itself.
“I know,” Cyno hummed, busy lathering the other’s sides with soap, “but it makes me feel better when I know you're taken care of. Can I continue?”
“Cheesy,” Tighnari grumbled, twitching closer in what Cyno took as consent to carry on with his actions. Thus, woeful to upset his partner, he finished washing and drying the other, letting Tighnari return the favor.
By the time they got out, the water was lukewarm, but it hardly mattered. Wrapped in towels and feeling revived, the next task presented itself in the form of Tighnari's extensive tail care routine. As was custom, Cyno helped whenever he was present. This time, he took over completely.
Tighnari hadn't moved to do anything for himself in over an hour, which would usually make him restless. However, with his current bout of fatigue, coupled with the person behind him, he stayed in place for once.
He was still feeling off-kilter, but had poured that into completing his work and looking after Cyno. Both of those tasks had been cut short, leaving him with substantial time to think.
They’d both changed so much over the years. And so much recently, too. However, some things always stayed the same. Like the warm shift in Cyno’s voice when he was pleased, or the way his fingers curled against Tighnari’s fur as if savoring the sensation. He shivered pleasantly.
Even if he’d been weighed down by questions and existentialism the past few weeks, he’d never not take these domestic actions for granted. Whether in the modern day or in a bygone era, he liked to think he’d be Cyno’s no matter what. And that Cyno would be his. By choice, without divine influence.
He didn't remember drifting off, only soon that it was time for dinner. He ate and laughed and kissed, but forewent another TCG game in favor of returning to the slumber that tugged at his unconscious. Weariness had been his best friend lately, and he hadn't hid it as well as he thought. That night, he slept a deep and dreamless sleep.
***
Far too early, it was time for Cyno to leave. The sun was still rising, a gentle shower of rain washing over the Ville. As Tighnari stood in front of his door, he pulled Cyno in for perhaps the third final kiss.
“See you at the end of the week,” he murmured against lips that were neither unhealthy nor particularly cared for. Cyno took care of his appearance enough for his job. The rest was usually up to Tighnari… so he pulled him in again, under the guise of moisturising Cyno's lips a little more.
And, okay, maybe he didn't clarify why he was doing it. Maybe he held him there for a few seconds longer than necessary, wanting to relearn every curve and line of that mouth. And yes, maybe he was just making excuses at this point. Sue him.
“See you then.” Cyno caressed his face, obliging his affections despite the fact he was meant to set off ten minutes ago. Well, it wasn't like he was urgently needed anywhere. He could deal with a delay.
Eventually, though, they did peel themselves apart, and Cyno began the lengthy walk back to Sumeru City. Tighnari, meanwhile, headed back inside and tried to focus on his day. He’d have to mark Collei’s essay – she was improving at a phenomenal rate – and finish reading those logs from yesterday. Not to mention his regular routines… Well, distraction and an overactive mind were no excuses to neglect the forest. To work it was.
***
For four days, he’d successfully stamped out any maddening thoughts of Tulaytullah and Cyno-related worries, those with no substance to them nor evidence to suggest them as facts. Tomorrow, he’d be in the city and enjoying a meal with his friends. Finally. Sat at his desk, he lifted his head at the sound of a dusk bird.
It perched on his windowsill, gazing at him with curious eyes. Tighnari stood, taking the letter from its leg band and thanking it quietly. As it flew off, he unrolled the parchment, eyebrows lifting to discover the sender was none other than his beloved general.
My dearest Tighnari,
I want to visit you today. I haven’t forgotten about our plans tomorrow, but I want to see you anyway. If this inconveniences you, send Collei to greet me instead, and I’ll stay out of your way. I’m setting out after sending this message, so it should reach you about three quarters of an hour before I do.
Forever yours,
Cyno.
Tighnari read the short letter over thrice. It seemed he hadn’t been able to shake off Cyno’s worries last week, after all.
He winced a little at the wording. It wasn’t meant to be passive aggressive or anything of the sort, but Tighnari still felt like a complete asshole for making Cyno think his company wasn’t appreciated. He really needed to work on coming to terms with things that were bothering him.
Three quarters of an hour. Enough time to think things over.
***
“Collei.”
She turned her head, greeting him with an enthusiastic wave. “Master Tighnari! Is everything okay?”
He nodded. The sun was starting to set, and she seemed to be finishing up for the day. His heart warmed involuntarily, mentally beaming with pride at her progress. “Yes, don’t worry. Could I trouble you to greet Cyno in about half an hour?”
With a diligent nod of her head, she set aside the report she’d been filing. It was perfectly legible, and though she had lots to improve on he didn’t think he’d ever been more eager to read a boring report in his life. “Of course! Should I see him in, or…”
“No need. Tell him I’m not in the house and to come find me. He’ll know.”
“Will do. Make sure to get some rest, though!” She bid him goodbye with a good-natured grin. Without her pestering him to take constant breaks, he probably would’ve worked himself into the ground by now.
Gandharva Ville buzzed with domestic activity in the evening. Nearby animals settling in, forest watchers returning from a busy day, residents starting to prepare dinner. He climbed the thick branches of the village with ease, until he was at the top of the tree he called his home.
Here, he had a clear view of Sumeru City. Nestling himself in a crook of the canopy, his gaze rested on the distance. Both the great ivory tower and the path leading to it were visible from his vantage point.
If you were to ask Tighnari if he was brooding, he would say no. He was simply… musing. With ears as sensitive as his, he had pretty much no choice but to escape somewhere quiet to have an in-depth think about anything. Just because it looked like he was being anti-social didn’t mean he was.
Besides, he had a conversation to plan.
He would apologise to Cyno for acting unusually. Then, he’d apologise for even daring to question Cyno’s attraction to him. Then, he’d actually explain what was bothering him and apologise profusely every thirty seconds whilst Cyno was calling him ridiculous. Then (hopefully), they’d kiss and kiss again and maybe lie down together and Cyno would ravish him so well he’d forget he’d ever thought such a thing in the first place.
The sound of climbing caught him off guard. He’d been up here longer than he thought.
“I thought you might be here. Can I sit?” came Cyno’s voice, quieter than usual. Tighnari nodded, shuffling up to the best of his ability. His tail curled around the other’s wrist, fingers delicately entwining.
Cyno always ran warm, though as of recently, the heat of his skin wasn’t entirely natural. He’d been sporting a slightly-higher-than-average body temperature as he adjusted to the presence of two Ba fragments. It wasn’t high enough to be concerning, but Tighnari insisted he check his temperature regularly nonetheless.
Their silence was loud with unspoken words, but not necessarily uncomfortable. Tighnari kept his gaze trained on the distance, chewing his lip. He felt ridiculous. Either he was overreacting and, in the process, challenging his partner’s integrity. Or – in a hopefully impossible scenario – he was just about to call Cyno out and upend his whole life. Either way ended with him getting humiliated, because his stupid brain couldn’t quiet down.
“How much do the Ba Fragments influence your decision-making?” It was a vague question, but the safest one to start with.
Cyno narrowed his eyes appraisingly. His instinct was to say they didn’t affect him at all, but Tighnari clearly needed more reassurance than that; the way his tail kept twitching was the least obvious evidence for it. “I make all my decisions with the knowledge that one day my heart will be placed before them on the scales. I can harness Hermanubis’ blessing to deliver justice, but they don’t have any power over me. Not in the sense that… they affect my thoughts and feelings. There aren't enough remnants of a divine spirit in them to do that.”
Tighnari looked away, cheeks scarlet and wearing a mortified scowl. Cyno wasn’t stupid. Of course asking such a thing would have given him away immediately. “What do you think is causing the visions you keep having, then?”
“I… don’t know.” There was a brief pause, as Cyno gathered his bearings. It was hard to voice his thoughts without Tighnari’s eyes to ground himself in. “Maybe it’s caused by something in the leylines. You know older artifacts of the spiritual kind tend to pick up memories from multiple sources. Either way, they haven’t caused me any loss of control. Tighnari, do you really-”
Tighnari held a hand up, which Cyno caught and pressed a slightly exasperated kiss to. “I know I’m being ridiculous. I know. I promise I’m not doubting your feelings for me, I just-”
Cyno cut him off by tugging him closer, one arm supporting his midriff and the other holding his hand tightly. “Just tell me what’s bothering you, so I can fix it.”
Now the silence wasn’t just loud, it was deafening. Tighnari sat rigid, racing through a hundred different speeches and wordings. He debated kissing him and hoping he’d shut up, jumping from the tree and running away, or pretending he’d gone suddenly deaf.
Instead, he took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just… wondering how much of our lives were already written out for us. Whether we’d still be where we are now if I wasn’t a Valuka Shuna and you didn’t have the Ba Fragments. If…” he trailed off again, risking a glance upwards.
Cyno’s expression wasn’t exactly hurt. Rather, he looked crushed that Tighnari’s usually confident brain had betrayed himself in such a way.
It was a look he never wanted to see again, and hurried to remedy it. “Of course, I know you love me, and- and I love you too, obviously. I just- I just feel like I’ve trapped you and you know I bond for life so even if you realise this isn’t what you want and you were only drawn to me because of history it’d be too late for you to back out now and I hate that I’m thinking so foolishly but what if-”
Cyno gently covered his mouth with his hand. Tighnari’s mouth snapped shut, clenching his teeth. If there was one thing he hated more than stupid adventurers, it was not having autonomy and control. The idea that their meeting was preordained had been less of a romantic fantasy come true, and more of a devastating reminder of his own helplessness in the grand scheme of things.
“Can I interrupt you?”
He nodded sharply against warm flesh. Please, the action seemed to say.
“You’re… being foolish, you’re right. I didn’t fall in love with you because of your ears or because of some ancient pull drawing me to you. I fell in love with you because you’re honest and kind and intelligent and you love the world you live in so much, even when it frustrates you. Even if you’re right and our lives were forced together because history moves in circles or something, I don’t… care.”
Tighnari’s eyebrows lifted.
“I love you. And we’re together, and you’re the man I want to spend my life with. I don’t care how we ended up here, or what happened millenia ago. So… yes, I think you’re being foolish. And dramatic. And it hurts my feelings that you’d doubt me so easily.”
Pushing the hand away from his mouth, Tighnari objected, “I’m not doubting you. Nor am I trying to hurt your feelings-”
“I love you.” Cyno levelled him with a serious face, different to the kind he wore after telling a bad joke. Different to the kind he wore bringing criminals to justice. This was deeper than either of those. “I’ll say it however many times you need me to.”
Tighnari stared at him, before his face broke into something impossibly soft and he surged forward, tail wrapping around Cyno’s middle. The embrace was unexpectedly tight and carried an awful lot of momentum, but Cyno didn’t lose his balance. He received it dutifully, rubbing Tighnari’s back.
“I love you,” he repeated.
“I love you too. I’m sorry for… for being so absurd.”
Cyno hummed, the sound vibrating against Tighnari’s ear. He shivered pleasantly. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I think… I was embarrassed because I – I knew how much I was blowing a derisory thought out of proportion.” His cheeks burned. He’d been so childish. Being emotionally mature was supposed to be his thing, and he’d had to be talked at like a misbehaving teen to realise his mistake.
Fortunately, Cyno chose not to humiliate him further, as they sat in silence, arms around each other. The sun had gone down by now, but any and all worries had been pushed to the back of his mind.
Slightly to his chagrin, Cyno was right. They were both adults with complete control over their lives and actions. What point was there in dwelling on how they ended up in such a place? He followed in nobody’s footsteps. He didn’t explore the same paths as his ancestors; he stamped down new ones with Cyno in tow.
The evening was warm, a light drizzle beginning to fall from the skies. It fell like a refreshing shower, washing away lingering insecurity.
Eventually, they peeled away from each other enough to receive mutual kisses on the cheek. Side by side, they observed the vast expanse of Sumeru’s hills in quiet tranquility.
…
Well, mostly quiet tranquility.
“Hey, Nari.”
“Hm?”
“Has a sumpter beast been sitting on your brain recently?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You seem to have had a lot on your mind.”
Tighnari groaned, but it was carried away in the gentle breeze of the canopy and the delicate downpour of the clouds.