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Siron could tell it was Cydrch. Not in the way he could see his old mate, but in the way his personality was distinctly him. He was outwardly a bubbly golden retriever, but would fight like the fiercest guard dog . He was kind beyond belief and always willing to help, but at the same time would fight tooth and nail for anyone he deemed important. The problem came with who that fight would be.
When they had been safe together in that village, the fight had been his father. Siron had said not to bring up the beatings to his dad. As much as he hated going home, his father was the last one he knew from his home village. Even if the guy deserved retribution for treating him the way he did, he could not be the reason he got it. Cydrch was both a blessing and curse for this situation. He listened. A thing Siron truly loved about him. That didn’t stop his protective streak though. He had challenged his dad to a duel. It was both flattering and idiotic but the prince had come out on top either way. In return his father was to treat Siron correctly.
They had always stood up for each other. When he had first met Cydrch the prince was being “looked after” by the other villagers. Instead of simply attending to him they weren’t allowing the man to walk on his own. All on the pretence of “he’s blind” and “he could trip”. Which was a bunch of bull if Siron had to say anything about it. Plenty of people were injured to the point of blindness and weren’t treated this way. He knew full well it was to try to get special treatment from the prince's dad. He got the villagers to knock it off. From that day forward he and Cydrch were relatively close. More so than he was with others from the village.
It was the fight for each other that had brought them together as more than friends. It was common for krakens to have friends and stand up for each other, sure. It was a step further when you fought the other family though. Not that Siron had a large one, but the gesture still stood. Able to stand your own ground and the kindness to back, that is what made a good mate.
He never really based his love of someone on looks. It was always their personality that did it for him. Siron never really thought he’d be going for a prince, but there he was, falling for him based on how he treated others. His perception of royalty was them being the snobs, too high and mighty to help. It was seemingly proven to him as his village was used as a pawn to fight against the neighboring gods rule. Given his grievances, he never ever saw himself courting a prince. The kindhearted man standing in front of him was the exception.
When Cydrch had gone missing Siron was distraught, but also enraged. How could a royal allow his own son to be taken? How could he allow himself to not know where he was taken too? Not know the conditions he was put under?
He all but skirted his responsibilities. For YEARS all of his free time had been spent looking for the prince. He had become reckless. Whether that was the exhaustion of not eating or sleeping properly or the mental exhaustion of putting the majority of his energy to finding him he was not sure. He knew Cydrch would hate to see him like this. He knew he would get scolded for not taking care of himself properly in his absence. But what was he meant to do? Cydrch couldn’t scold him if he was dead. He couldn’t be dead.
Everything built up until there was an intervention. Siron had to get his arm amputated and the first thing he had tried to do when waking up was to go out and search. The village all but put him on house arrest. Which, while fair, only made him more antsy. He had gotten used to the movement of searching, the feeling of knowing he was actively doing something to help. To be asked to sit still was all but torture.
They compromised with him though. They gave him history to read about the land and neighboring domains. They promised that when he was fully healed, they would gather what was needed so he could devote himself to the search. Cydrch’s dad made him an official guard, honored by his hard work searching. As if he wasn’t the one searching the most when it was his free time and he had other responsibilities previously. He hated the title. It felt like this was Cydrch’s dad handing off the responsibility to him when he should be just as concerned with his well being. He wouldn’t complain though. It gave him much more time and resources. Not only that, but it allowed him to search further than before, not needing to return when his free time was over.
Months later he was sent off. Kelp was sent as his traveling partner. It was in part due to the company, and also to ensure Siron would care for himself. After all, he could not allow Kelp to go without. He had a suspicion that it was the same king that whipped out his village that had something to do with this. The Kind in Yellow always had a particularly bad relationship with Cthulhu. He gathered his things and ventured into the Yellow kings domain.
He was careful not to be seen at first. Although he knew the powers the king held, knowing he could be easily tracked down, he also knew the fewest eyes on him the better. Once he reached the crossroads, he turned left. He winded his way through the pitch black walls and snuck in through the yellow doors.
Siron worked his way through puzzle after puzzle. Some stumped him for a short while, but the resources he brought were a major help in dealing with them. Along the way he found signs of other adventurers. Most were relatively obvious. A crafting table or destruction of property. Some were more subtle or hidden away. He should be on alert in case he ran into them. Siron could not be sure whether they were friend or foe. Eventually he found his way to a field. It had a river running along it. This would be a fine place to set up for a short rest before continuing.
He started by taking a dip in the water. It was rejuvenating and helped him clear his head. A blessing of being a kraken he supposed. His clear head ended up coming quite in handy as he saw a man shaped slime bound over the hill. Siron submerged himself in the water, blending in with his surroundings as he watched. A second figure followed the slime, this one in some type of golden armor. Then a third trailed behind them. A grey harpy of some sorts. The slime and the harpy seemed cheerful enough. Meanwhile the knight seemed on edge, obviously the one more focused on potential threats.
The slime fell back to talk animatedly to the harpy and they continued on the path a chunk or so away from the river. Siron thought he was hidden well enough for them to give him no mind. That was until the knight stared daggers in his direction. What had given him away?
That question was quickly answered by the parrot, who was previously hidden in the tall grass in front of him, flapping up to greet the group. He growled at the bird for blowing their cover. He had hoped the knight had only seen Kelp, but his attention staring at the water long after Kelp joined the group proved him wrong. There was little left to do but to join the group, lest be shot at before he even had the chance to fight.
He stood up and marched after the parrot, snarling under his breath at the lapse in judgement. Siron knew better though. The parrot was smart, not only in pure intelligence but especially in people skills. He always seemed to know who was friendly and who was foe.
Once getting to the group he could tell the harpy was familiar. Siron was confused, he had never known a harpy before. Looking at him, he could tell he came from the enemy. While not shrouded in yellow, the grey cloth was in the same style as the enemy king. Was he on the battlefield that whipped out all but his father and himself? He did not appear as a warrior at first glance. He had that privileged way of wearing expensive clothing and not allowing dirt to be on it. Though he didn’t seem particularly afraid of being in dirt, more than the tares and filth one would expect neglected to accumulate.
Kelp did not seem to agree with his assessment of the prince. He immediately flew over to busy him with conversation. Meanwhile the slime and knight looked at him skeptically and discussed with themselves.
They seemingly came to the conclusion that he was not an immediate threat to be neutralized, though that could come later based on how things went. They would probably try to get answers from him first he suspected. The two groups danced around each other wearily before the first conversation started.
“Who are you and what purpose do you have here?” The knight started.
“I, Siron, am lookin’ for the son of a neighborin’ king. The parrot with yer friend over there is Kelp.” Siron was careful to give only small amounts of information. He figured saying Cthulhu would draw unnecessary attention given whose domain they were in. “Same to yar, who are ya n’ what’s yer purpose.”
The slime seemed to stifle a chuckle at his pirate accent before responding, “I’m Avery, this is Derek,” he pointed at the knight, who shot him a look from under his helmet. “Over there with Kelp is P.I.G.”
“Pig?”
“Well, his name is the ‘Prince in Grey’, so I shortened it to PIG,” Avery explained.
Siron huffed in amusement. These adventurers were calling the supposed son of the King in Yellow “PIG”. At least he knew they weren’t on the king's side of things. He would be surprised if Cthulhu, even if he did not have the biggest part in caring for his mate, ever let Cydrch a pig. It seemed not only were they not in line with the king, but the king did not care much for the prince. He lowered his guard slightly. If these two were against the king and Kelp saw them as friends, he could try to see them as such too.
“Kelp seems to like yer friend plenty enough. I’m curious though, how’d yer two come to be friends with the king’s son?” Siron questioned.
The knight’s - Derek’s - guard seemed to go up at that. More daggers being stared at Siron, who stared right back.
“And how do you know so much about the king's business?”
“Reasurch is all,” Siron explained smoothly. “I am lookin’ for a nearby king’s son, n’ so I learned about what I might find here before I ventured. S’ not so hard, just the clothin’ style bein’ the same.”
Derek looked at him in appreciation of some sort. Maybe it had been a while since someone else could solve puzzles. When making his way here it seemed there was one member who went through things methodically and one who rushed through based on tracks he saw. The methodical one must be Derek.
“Though it does bring suspicion, ther’s no books on im’. I spent a while doin’ research before comin’ ere’ n’ nothin’. What do ya know about im’?”
“Yeah he mentioned not being able to find any books on himself. Other than this one,” Avery stated, reaching to pull out the book before Derek stopped him.
“More information on him first, then we can give out some. I don’t trust him yet,” he said to the slime. Then he turned to face Siron. “Tell us more about where you are from. I still don’t know enough about you to ensure you aren’t a spy for the king,” he said bluntly.
As if the disgust on Siron’s face at the idea of working for the piss king wasn’t proof enough the anger building up sure would. “Don’t ya dare imply I’d work for that bastard,” Siron spat with venom. “I’d never work for the man that decimated my village.” He had probably said too much but the point got across. He was seething at the idea. Him, work for the king that killed his Ma and destroyed his home? No way in hell. That man would find a watery grave if he ever got his hands on him. Little did he know that anger would only rise once he learned what became of Cydrch.
His outburst frightened the butterflies that flapped around the prince's hands. His sweet songs gathered them back to him. He sounded so familiar, but Siron just couldn’t place it. It reminded him of Cydrch, but much scratchier. It made him feel almost homesick, thinking about his lover when he was still missing. He’d start searching again after finishing with these two. He could feel it. He was so close to him, it felt like he was mere blocks away and yet, he couldn’t see him.
Derek and Avery have a silent conversation with each other while Siron is lost in thought. They could tell at the very least this was not the enemy. Sure, one could fake anger. But Siron’s being so immediate and burning so hot was indication enough of the truth.
Derek sighed. “We don’t know too much about the Prince in Grey. The few things we know is that he must speak truthfully or not at all. Along with there is something he is hiding, or something he knows that we do not. He is not written into any books, but carries around this one.” Derek reached into a bag and pulled out a book, gently handing it over to Siron.
As soon as he looked at the cover he put the pieces together. The price was Cydrch. Sprawled on the cover was his name, “Cydrch.” Siron looked at it for a second in shock. The watchful eyes of the two men in front of him noticed his change in demeanor immediately.
“It’s him,” he voiced out loud, “the prince I am looking for.”
The two only had more questions, but they were tuned out in favor of the ringing in his ears. His mate, or who was meant to be his mate stood in front of him. He looked completely different, in a way it was no wonder he did not recognize him. With all of the pieces he had, it had to be him. He was different but still so very much him. He wished he could gather his kraken to his chest and not let go. But, he was no longer him. Physically, and likely at least a portion mentally. Even without sight and Siron’s voice deepening over the years he hadn't changed enough to be completely unrecognizable. Even if he was, Cydrch would at least be happy to have one of his people by him.
The first thing boiling in his mind was “What did the king do to yer Cydrch,” he growled out, not realizing at first. He flipped through the pages. “Remember who you are” scrawled across much of them. He had lost his memory in some way. Okay, there is a fix for that, he was sure. He just had to think.
His emotions spiraled vibrant enough for Avery and Derek to decide it was time to pull him out of it. They sat him down and called for him. It took a while for him to be pulled out of his thoughts.
“Welcome back. What do you know about ‘Cydrch’?” Avery asked, quoting how Siron had said his name.
He told them their story, skipping some personal parts but giving them the general idea well enough. He reminisced on how they met, how they fought for each other, when they started courting. He ended with what had happened since Cydrch went missing. How he searched with all of the time he had. How he was given the ability to dedicate himself to the search. He told them, in a roundabout way as to not say his name out loud, how Cydrch’s dad was Cthulhu.
Avery and Derek explained their experiences. He could tell that much like Cydrch and him, these two fought for each other. They cared about each other dearly. If he didn’t know any better he would assume they were already courting. Maybe it was the limited time they had together, or the direness of their situation that kept them apart. He wasn’t sure how to get them to see it, but he figured Kelp could be a wingman for them like he was for Cydrch and himself.
Siron talked with the two men. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew together they would save his mate. Maybe Cthulhu could be useful for once. Oh how he did like to spite the King in Yellow. Together they made a plan: they would bring the king down, free Derek and Avery, and return Cydrch’s memories to him.