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Ren shrugged his cloak off his shoulders, grabbing it by the fur collar and tossing it half hazardly onto his bed. The crumpled pristine fabrics quickly became a cushion for the prince’s crown, red gems twinkling in sync with the shiny strands of velvet woven of the clothing beneath. The moon hung high over thr magnificent kingdom of Soluna, stars dancing across the sky lady Nyx had hosted a gala specifically for the lunar. It was easier to forget the stress weighing on his shoulders when a witness to such a spectacular ball, and so Ren was scurrying down the spiral staircase as fast as his feet would let him. His boots slammed against the white tile, loud enough to turn the few heads of servants, but not loud enough to mute how they called out for him to slow. Ren didn’t listen, he was already late for his company.
By the time the prince had pushed the doors to the courtyard open, he was panting and slouched over himself. Goodness, they had to make that castle smaller. Ren’s chestnut hair stuck to his face in small strands that just barely curled at the end, and he tried to tidy himself up by swiping them away. He dusted off his shirt, straightening the red strap that was cinched around his waist. He looked decent, right? His ponytail wasn’t too messy, and his boots weren’t that scuffed from running, right? Totally. Why did it matter? Ren was meeting Sausage out here, it wasn’t like he was introducing himself to an ally kingdom’s daughter. It was fine! Everything was fine. Ren took in a deep breath of that crisp night air, enjoying as the breeze slowly drifted past him like any other. He navigated the grey-stoned pathways as they weaved through rose bush after rose bush, each one larger and more stunning than the last. He gently grazed one of the flower’s petals, hoping to calm his steadily increasing nerves with the plush texture between his fingertips.
Prince Ren came to an opening, one with a grand statue of his father in the middle with benches on each side. On the one facing the left sat a boy around the same age. Tousled brown hair, red and black cloaks, and that signature scythe. The bright orange orb attempted to outshine the boy’s - Sausage’s - smile, but failed miserably. Ask Ren, not much can succeed at that task. A small phantom tabby sat curled up precious in Sausage’s lap, wispy tail languidly swaying back and forth as he scratched it’s head- Or…tried to? Ren didn’t understand necromancy, all he knew is that both Sausage and the cat looked happy, so that was enough.
He stood there for a moment, staring, before shifting his boots to make a scraping noise on top of clearing his throat. Sausage snapped his head up, startling the ghostly feline in his lap. It jumped off his thighs, disappearing into the night air. Upon seeing the prince, Sausage’s face brightened as swiftly as a match would when dropped into a vat of gunpowder.
“Good lord, you scared me! I thought you were a guard or something.” Sausage abandonded his scythe on the porcelain seat, casting a shimmery glow across the ground. He hurried to stand in front of Ren, a beaming grin on his face with his hands clasped behind his back. Ren blinked for a moment. Going from the strict schedule forced upon a growing heir to the scraped-knees-and-laughter style of teenage life was whiplash not made for the weak, but Ren would be a liar if he said he didn’t look forward to it. A slow smile spread across his face, the apples of his cheeks dusted by the same rose that dotted the bushes ‘round the two boys. Ren spun on his heels, walking around the area like it was a whole new world.
“I told you, guards don’t come out here. It’s how I get to meet you.” Ren laughed to which Sausage responded to with a pout.
“I knew that.”
“Clearly not.” Ren raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, hush! Quiet, I demand you!” Sausage’s facade was quick to fizzle out into light hearted giggles. He was never good at hiding his emotions, and Ren deeply admired something about that. How free he was, all flaws and highlights shown to the world without a hint of shame or fear. Ren imagined a life like that on the regular, pondered what kind of man he’d be if expectations hadn’t shaped him first. Would he and Sausage be similar? If so, in what regards? Would his smile have that perfectly imperfect crook in it? Would he his clothes have dirt at the very corners from rough housing disguised as mage practice? Would he be able to see the man with diamond eyes in the sun’s glory, painting him in all the warmth he exudes? Perhaps his mind would wander towards greener pastures less often, or perhaps he’d see his current role as ideal. It took Sausage snapping his fingers in front of his face to get him out of hiz haze.
“Earth to Ren? Do I need to call Lady Death to get your soul back? Is it gone?” Sausage pretended to search Ren’s eyes for whatever deemed him of having a soul, and all Ren could do was laugh it off.
“Just thinking.” Ren waved a dismissive hand, sitting next to the forgotten scythe. He mindlessly swept the cloak he wasn’t wearing back so he wouldn’t accidentally disturb the fibers by sitting on them, or something like that. He remembered that it wasn’t on him, and felt a little bashful about the level of predictable he’d become. Sausage didn’t seem to notice, let alone mind, as he grabbed the scythe far too big for him and plopped down beside Ren.
Silence fell over them both for a moment, the only noise the distant chirp of sleepy birds or the melody of lovelorn crickets. The quiet wasn’t an unusual occurrence, though it usually came around later during the conversation when either of them ran out of topics to catch one another up on, but sometimes silence was welcomed. There was no honor Ren could bestow that would mean more than to welcome someone into his space, into his mind and let them build a home there like Sausage had so easily managed. It was almost funny if Ren focused on it long enough. A beginner mage with no real grasp on the divine forces that had blessed him waltzing into Ren’s heart and stealing into his affection without his consent.
“Guess what?” Sausage chirped after a beat. Ren tipped his head back upwards, turning his gaze towards the man beside him.
“Hm?” Ren cocked his head with an inquisitive smile.
“I learned something new.” Sausage sang, swining his legs back and forth off the bench.
“Something better than the ghost cat?” Ren smiled, one that quickly turned into a laugh as Sausage nearly broke his neck with how fast he looked over.
“You saw that?!” He exclaimed with a beaming grin bright enough to blind Ren’s father, who was currently fast asleep on the other side of the castle. Ren put his fist in front of his mouth to muffle the small chuckles that escaped his lips. He nodded his head.
“Is that not the new thing?” The prince inquired, curiousity sparkling in the glints of moonlight his pale blue eyes caught. Magic had always been so fascinating to Ren, even before he learned the manipulation of it ran in his blood. Bending flames, hoisting bodies up into the air with a water sphere, soaring through the sky, and all of that was at his fingertips? It felt like freedom in its simplest form, a freedom he rarely got in his day to day. He got to decide how he wielded his pyrokenisis, how he brandished his staff, and the routines of dancing embers he’d preform for the children in the town square. Out of everything he was made to learn, necromancy never once seemed in the realm of possibility. Ren thought matters such as life and death were to be leave in the hands of gods. Though, being here with Sausage was the closest thing to heavenly he’d felt in an awful long time.
“No! Well, yes, but not the new thing I wanted to show you.” Sausage scooted closer to Ren, patting the back of his hand with excitement. He didn’t bother moving it afterwards, resting his palm flat against Ren’s hand. Ren turned his and intertwined their fingers, a familiar routine between them. It made Ren’s heart warm, but a different kind of warmth. Not a hearth’s, not a flame’s nor an ember’s, but a fire deep within his soul — a spark. The one wretched flame he couldn’t control as it lashed, lapped, and reached for the traveling mage that say beside him.
Sausage cleared his throat ceremoniously and outstretched his freehand. The way the other moved beneath Ren for just a split second told Ren that this spell probably worked better with both hands, but neither of them chose to do something about that. Sausage closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, the orange orb on the end of his scythe glowing brightly from beside him. His hand lowered down until his finger tips pointed to the ground, then slowly curled in to a fist. He yanked his hands back up and snapped his eyes open, and with an ominous series of overlapping whispers, a few tiny souls floated out from the ground. Only one was something other than a phantom, a ball of flesh with little eyes and nubs for hands. Apparently thats what the half risen dead looks like. The few souls floated around Sausage, circling him and even fazing through Ren at times, leaving him with a bone-deep chill. The flesh blob sat pathetically on Sausage’s boot with a groan, but it was trying its best, so Ren attempted pitifully to conceal his disgust.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Sausage asked with wonder dripping from his words. He gently held his hand out, and one of the phantoms settled into his palm. Ren smiled at the sight.
“It…” He found he was speechless, torn between bewildered shock and simple disbelief. “It’s beautiful.” Wasn’t the answer he wanted, but was all he could spit out. Sausage snorted.
“Beautiful? It’s cool and awesome and magnificent, but they are kind of ugly.” He blurted as bluntly as always.
“I think the way you handle them is what’s beautiful.” Ren elaborated, his heart giving and awkward lurch. Goodness, he sounded like a moron, didn’t he? He sounded like proper teenager, zoned out and mumbling, nothing like the prince he was supposed to be precived as. Sausage must’ve thought he was ridiculous. Ren’s free hand began straightening his shirt and hair, picking and curling loose strands back in place.
“Thank you.” Ren didn’t seem to notice how long silence had filled the air between them. Sausage’s voice was gentle, calmer than usual and delicate in a way Ren didn’t really want to read into. Sausage’s thumb slid across Ren’s knuckles, a silent comfort. Ren cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, scratching at the back of his neck. A more awkward silence settled again, and Sausage was quick to try and clear it. He guided one of the souls to Ren’s head, letting it roll off his hands as if it was a physical creature. It landed on the crown of Ren’s hair, and he shuddered at the chill that wracked through him. Spirits were always so cold. He couldn’t begin to imagine how could the shadow realm Sausage’s told him of must be if, by the time theyre in this realm, theyre still so frigid.
“It likes you.” Sausage declared, prying a laugh from Ren’s awkwardly taut self. He tipped his head down to giggle, and Sausage just about launched himself to catch the easily-able-to-fly soul. “Careful!” He yelped, catching its blobby self in his hands. It fizzled through his fingers, melting into the thin air and leaving Sausage inches from a rather surprised Ren. He blinked for a beat, but didn’t yank away like he would’ve expected himself to. Instead, he shifted to face Sausage with his whole body. He watched as Sausage’s eyes flickered down at the movement, how his cheeks bloomed with a rosy color that brought out the sparkles in his baby blue eyes. Ren’s lips quirked upward into a smile. It was an odd sight to see, Sausage with his guard down the same way that Ren’s always seemed to be around him. Sausage didn’t have much of a guard if Ren was being completely honest, but he was rarely caught off of it like this. He pulled back with an obnoxious ‘ahem’, eyes suddenly trained on the phantoms as they continued to swirl. Moonlight shone through them, bringing out the slight maroon tint along the edges of their small selves. They whispered and groaned as they dived through the air, twirling in and out of each other’s paths like it was a game of tag and no one really knew who was it.
Suddenly, Ren had an idea. He pulled his hand from Sausage’s and cracked his knuckles. Wiggling his fingers, he brought his hands together and cupped the air, focusing hard on the space between them. Sparks flew between his palms, eventually bursting into a small flame. He swirled the fire around his hand before flicking it upwards, sending embers up into the air. The spirts weaved between them, painting a spectacular array of movement and flickering warm light against the cool, inky background of the night sky. The embers surrounded the two boys, spirits following close behind, creating this special little bubble for just the two of them.
Sausage grinned wildly, pushing himself from his seat. He stared at the flames like a kid in a candy shop, eyes pushed thin by the joy on his face. He quickly walked to the edge, reaching out to the glowing flickers as if they were some otherwordly light. He hissed whenever he made contacy with one, yanking his hand back and shaking it off. Ren chuckled quietly.
“It’s still fire.” Ren commented with a content smile, keeping his flames swirling for Sausage’s amusement.
“I know that!” Sausage yipped, “I’m the feared necromancer! I’m not afraid of a little burning!”He huffed, puffing out his chest as if that suddenly made Ren blind to how he was still shaking the sting out of his hand. The prince rolled his eyes affectionately, pushing himself to his feet as well.
“Here, let me take a look at it.” Ren insisted, already walking over and grabbing Sausage’s hand before he could even reply. The flames died down as he lost his focus, gaze locked on the red blotches on Sausage’s hand. He was so intensely trained on the injury, running his fingers across the other’s hand to get a better feel of the size of the affected area, that he didn’t even realize his hand was being lifted.
Sausage pressed a gentle kiss to Ren’s knuckles, causing his heart to come to a screeching halt. His face heated up instantly, eyes snapping down to Sausage and meeting that stupidly, stupidly beautiful gaze looking up at him through his eyelashes. The prince couldn’t feel like this. This was something temporary, a random friend he found during the other’s travels no matter how many times he wished it to be anything but. It was self sabotage to acknowledge the butterflies as they roared to life in his gut, or the fire in his face, or the speed of his heartbeat, it was a dead end waiting to happen. There was no world in which this could work. Sausage was a man, and that alone would never allow him to have the prince’s love to himself. Ren needed an heir one day, right? They both knew what was there, what burned brighter than the flames ‘round them, but neither would admit it. Ren yanked his hand away as if he’d been burned back.
“Moron.” He muttered, looking away and praying his hair covered his flaming cheeks. He about crumbled at the giggle he heard Sausage let out, full of confidence he never would have the privilege of wielding. Sausage could love anyone he wanted, and he chose Ren, the man who couldn’t love him back. Ren’s face twisted into one of frustration, a bitter pang stabbing through his fluttering heart.
“I was kissing it better!” Sausage whined in protest, voice laced with laughter. Ren turned around, still beet red.
“That’s not how that works, I wasn’t injured! Other way around.” Ren complained. Sausage let out a noise of faux realization, bringing his hand up to tap his chin. He then offered his hand to Ren, presumably to kiss, and the prince could only scoff as Sausage bursted out in laughter. He walked over to Ren, purposely bumping into his shoulder.
“I’m kidding, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ren replied with a sigh, letting the tension escape from his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes, shaking off the flustered feeling. If his heart was so determined to be Amelia’s heir, he’s need to clip its wings. Refocusing, Ren spun on his heel.
“So, ehm- I’ll teach you the fire spell if you teach me how yours even works?” He offered with a hesitant grin, one he had to force on his face for just long enough for the remainders of those emotions to leave him. Sausage was quick to agree, and eagerly began explaining so fast he was left tripping over his own words. Ren traded knowledge back and forth, scribbling any and everything Sausage said down in his mental notebook. The moon hung high above them, stars twinkling like stage lights as the prince and the necromancer sat in that courtyard. Tomorrow would bring many things for both. Ren would probably get back to training with sword and staff once more, and Sausage would explore the kingdom of Soluna with the daunting presence of Death following him every where he’d go. Though, for now? Now the two mages were under moonlight with one another, no place they’d rather be. Tonight could be what forever should be, a dorky teenage word vomit back and forth until the sun came up, and Ren was happier with that than anything else in the world.