Work Text:
It had been a long and weary journey from the ruins of Castrum Kremnos, but Prince Mydeimos and his people arrived with little casualties at the holy city of Okhema. While his people could rest easy for now, the Prince still had one task to secure them all this newfound safety: a meeting with the Chrysos Heirs and Council of Elders.
He arrived at the meeting’s venue early, both eager to make a good impression and to get it over with as soon as possible. It seemed he was the only one to have these sentiments. Mydei closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Would it be disrespectful to take a seat before the leaders arrived? he wondered. Should I even have entered before them? Perhaps I should leave and wait out–
A firm hand touched his bare shoulder from behind. ‘You’re allowed to sit down, my friend.’
Mydei’s eyes snapped open and he whipped his head around, facing the person who so quietly managed to approach him from behind. Burning amber eyes met soft skyblue, framed by short and fluffy snow-white hair. A cheeky and charming smile stretched the man’s lips. His half-gloved hand still touched Mydei’s shoulder, the exposed calloused fingers gripping him lighter now.
And the more Mydei stood there, taking in the man’s appearance and feeling the warmth of the body behind him, the more his back, his weakness, stung. But more than that, his heart was hammering.
Mydei’s expression retained its stony seriousness as he willed away such sensations. Fear does not exist in the Kremnoan language, after all. ‘Remove your hand and address yourself.’
The stranger obeyed, though his mood was not swayed. That bright smile remained even as they parted as he spoke. ‘My apologies, Your Highness. I am Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, one of the Chrysos Heirs.’
Thump, thump.
Another sharp sting at his back.
He clenched his jaw and ignored both. ‘Given your formalities, I assume you know of me already. Still, it’s only proper that I introduce myself in turn. My name is Mydeimos, Prince of Castrum Kremnos.’
Phainon grinned. ‘A pleasure to meet you. Now, shall we take our seats? Anywhere will do.’ Mydei nodded, and the pair took their chosen places at opposite sides of the table. ‘The other Heirs are likely to arrive shortly, though I cannot promise the Elders will have the same courtesy.’ That perfect charming smile faltered briefly at the mention of the latter group. But it quickly returned when his gaze met Mydei’s again, softening as if confiding a frustration to a trusted friend and not a man he greeted for the first time only moments ago. ‘They can be rather closed-minded to put it lightly. But I assure you, the rest of us have some sense.’
Mydei scoffed, though there was no spite in the sound. It was closer to amusement. ‘I should hope so, Deliverer.’
‘Oh? You’ve heard of me too, then?’
Mydei opened his mouth to speak, but immediately closed it into a thin line as he paused. Had he heard of him? Living so far away and being so focused on his own people’s future, he hardly had the time to keep his ears open for rumours of living legends from far away. Where had he heard that title? Perhaps Krateros after an earlier meeting with an envoy? Correspondence from the Goldweaver, Aglaea? No, he would surely remember such a direct address of an important figure. But… perhaps the Kremnoan commonfolk had heard rumours of this saviour battling the Black Tide, the very monsters that had forced them from their home, and that legend reached his ear on the long road to Okhema. Surely that would explain it.
‘You do have quite the reputation for your strengths and heroics. It would be hard not to hear of you,’ he settled on saying. Yet, it was possible, evidently. No matter how rational the explanation, he was certain he had heard nothing of this man, or even his title, before the word spilled from his own lips. Still, he shook the doubts from his head.
Phainon chuckled. ‘Likewise. A young Prince said to have escaped the Sea of Souls? Now that is the thing of legends. But if it’s true, then I suppose your immortality is no mere rumour either.’
The ache in Mydei’s back intensified. He grunted and straightened his posture, nodding in acknowledgement. Phainon’s smile faltered, and his eyes widened. ‘Wow. That’s… incredible. You’ll be a great ally to have, Mydeimos.’
‘If I agree to the conditions of our stay, then yes. Otherwise we will move on. But I trust that you Heirs at least wouldn’t allow that to happen, no matter how disagreeable you may find me and my people.’
‘Not to worry. We will surely come to an agreement to satisfy both sides by the end of our meeting.’ He flashed a gentle smile, one so different to the previous ones. One more reassuring and genuine. Mydei felt oddly safe seeing it. His heart thumped again, making him forget his back was ever hurting…
No, he couldn’t let his guard down. This man could be dangerous, lulling him into a false sense of security, making him an easy target were the Okhemans to turn against him. That must be it: his back, his heart, surely they were a warning.
Yet, when Phainon’s big blue eyes widened in worry and his hand reached over the table to grasp his shoulder again, questioning his silence and asking if he’s well, Mydei couldn’t help but sigh and relax. He shook his head and gently removed Phainon’s hand, and dropped his stoic front, speaking in a matching soft tone: ‘I hope so, too. For both our people’s sake.’
Phainon retracted his hand, slowly as if reluctant to. He nodded, and neither uttered another word as the door opened. Most of the Heirs and two Elders entered first. Krateros, one of Kremnos’s elite warriors and a trusted ally of Mydei’s (even if they, too, had their clashes) soon followed after. They took their seats, the Heirs gathering near Phainon and Krateros taking Mydei’s side, all exchanging quick and polite greetings, while the Elders with their disgruntled faces seated themselves further from the Heirs without a word. The rest of the council gradually filtered in, with only a few Elders being late. Some didn’t turn up at all. With all the willing attendants accounted for, their discussion began.
Despite their lack of manners, the Elders were quick to find any way to argue against the Prince’s wishes as if he were the hostile one. Mydei maintained a straight face, speaking plainly and clearly, but if the tense expression of the Goldweaver was anything to go by he must sound angry, even bloodthirsty to them. The longer the argument was drawn out, the less he felt he could say amidst the crossing voices, with Krateros not standing for the disrespect from the Elders, and the Heirs attempting to regain some control of the conversation.
But Phainon had been his light in this meeting. With that postured charm fitting neatly back on, he managed to persuade the Elders to quiet down and listen before interrupting their guests, and quelled Krateros’s rage briefly enough with the promise that his Prince, and the Kremnoans, would be respected and listened to. Mydei felt comfortable enough to speak once more. While Phainon did indeed combat some of Mydei’s demands, he clearly understood his needs well and with a silver tongue he took Mydei’s words and turned them into something more palatable to persuade the Elders, successfully assisting him in securing the Kremnoans a place within the city in exchange for their fighting power in the event of an attack. What was a little more challenging had been convincing Mydei to join the Flame Chase Journey. Reluctant to accept his place as the Heir of Strife, he refused. But they came to a temporary agreement that he would assist in everyone else’s missions and fight with all his might against the Black Tide. He was thankful for this, even if it only meant delaying the inevitable call of his destiny.
The days that followed were mundane, filled with discussions and planning for patrol placements and scouting missions now that the Okhemans had more men to consider. It was agreed that Kremnoans and Okhemans would be teamed up until the Kremnoans were fully settled in, though Mydei suspected this was in part the Okheman’s friendliest way to avoid expressing their distrust in them. Understandable as the decision was, the poor reputation of his people still weighed on him.
Perhaps that was part of why the Deliverer himself was so often appointed to pair with the Prince. Even months later, be it on a mission outside, a patrol of the city, or even the briefest of meetings with the Elders, he would practically be stuck to his side. Even in his leisure time it had become rare to not see Phainon at his side, especially on visits to Okhema’s hot bathhouse. While his company wasn’t unpleasant, the matter of Mydei’s back and heart around the man still persisted. Moreso the latter as time marched on.
He wasn’t sure when this change had truly begun, but he could recall a collection of moments. Watching the man, instead of scolding mischievous children as a good role model should, join and play with them to encourage their joy amidst the horrors of their world was one such moment. Being the only one to witness his carefully practiced smile twitch in impatience and distaste whenever having to interact with the council of Elders was another. Those were such plain moments, and anyone else would likely feel the same way, he was sure of it.
A more perplexing and personal moment was after an argument they had over Mydei having a pattern of defying orders, using his body as a weapon on the frontlines of an invasion on Okhema rather than sticking to the people and fighting only when necessary. The way the Deliverer had dropped his usual diplomatic way of speech and had gotten angry over the risks he took, and by the end even showing exasperation at his failed attempts to get through to him, had struck him as strange, given Mydei was immortal, powerful, a one-man army even. When Mydei told him so, Phainon had said, ‘You can be so exhausting to talk to sometimes.’ Yet Mydei sensed no real rage or annoyance in his words. He only saw the contrasting fond smile tugging at his lips and the hidden worry in his averted gaze. It had been mere months since the two had met and Phainon spoke and behaved with such affection as if they’d known each other all their lives, and just as strange was how the familiarity of his presence seemed just as tied to Mydei as strife itself. Perhaps both were inevitabilities in his life.
Were he not so in tune with his body and the way it reacted to specific stimuli, Mydei would have missed out on a detail most would dismiss as ordinary thrill. His heart would throb in a much different way when they were in the midst of a good training session, or a battle alongside each other. Standing out the most was during a mission, clearing out Black Tide monsters that had settled a little too close to the holy city. While they had fought side by side many times already, the Deliverer had always maintained an elegant form as he stood tall and wielded his blade with the pride and grace of a fairytale knight, fitting of the role thrust upon him. But during this particular battle in which they as the only fighters had been vastly outnumbered, Mydei got another glimpse of Phainon: having nearly been downed by an enemy before Phainon fought his way to his side, Mydei saw those typically soft eyes had narrowed in focus and fury, and he had taken on a fast and strong offense over his usual poised and elegant defensive stance, but the swing of his sword, as wild as it was, still carried the brutal majesty of both a survivor and saviour.
And Mydei was fortunate enough to see more of this side of him. The two began a routine of sparring in private, where the only restrictions could be set by themselves. The more they fought, the more Mydei felt his own restraint was unneeded. Phainon expertly dodged and blocked his more lethal blows and strategically tanked the lesser ones to gain openings for his counters, and even managed to push Mydei to evade more than usual. They shared a glee in this freedom that neither had ever felt before with any opponent or ally.
One day, after a successful Black Tide clearout promising a longer time of peace, with their adrenaline still high and their spirits in tune, they decided to celebrate their victory and allyship with a duel. A duel that, no matter the victor, would solidify their bond to be like that of no other.
Doing battle at the site of the fallen Black Tide horde with no other to witness, their clash lasted a full 10 days and 10 nights. With several close calls on each side throughout, the pair's near endless energy finally depleted. Mydei's knee hit the ground first, but Phainon, limping his way over, collapsed in front of him before he could make a final strike, weak as it would have been. All he could do was roll over onto his back to face his dear enemy. Their chests rose and fell, their soft panting the only sound in the barren area after the ceaseless screeching of steel against steel. Despite the pain that shot through him, Phainon laughed lightly with a smile as warm as the sun, and Mydei, too, couldn't help but do the same, his inner child showing as he weakly and lightly tapped Phainon's face.
'A finishing blow to... a man already downed?' Phainon panted out. 'How cowardly, my Prince...'
Mydei grinned, but that quickly vanished with a gasp.
With the remainder of his strength, Phainon's hand had shot up, grabbed Mydei's braid, and pulled him all the way down to join him. He grunted having misjudged how painful the weight of Mydei's torso alone landing on him would be, but the indignant scowl painting Mydei’s face as brief as it lasted before returning to a boyish grin he'd never seen before this battle was worth it.
While Phainon's state continued to slow as his body reminded him of his mortality, Mydei's spent body began to mend itself slowly. Though he was still slow to recover his stamina, he pushed himself up with the little strength he got back and hovered over Phainon, admiring the beautiful disheveled state he had put him in… even daring to imagine the man beneath him this way in a more comfortable setting. The image was so vivid he could swear it was a memory. But here they were, in reality, in the aftermath of their bloody waltz. He slowly raised the same hand that had hit Phainon’s cheek earlier and gently caressed it, wiping away blood from previous injuries and admiring the bruises he left on the perfect man. Both of them were flushed from the heat of their fight, but Phainon's face burned ever brighter at the soft contact. He blinked away the haze over his eyes and looked up at Mydei, reaching up a trembling hand and dislodging a rock obstructing the healing of his neck before caressing it in turn. Mydei's breathing quickly eased, though the thrumming pulse of his heart only intensified.
The culmination of this battle – no, all the battles, all the missions, all the shared moments between the two – led Mydei to sharing his greatest vulnerability.
‘Deliv– no, Phainon,’ Mydei whispered softly. ‘In all my life, none have matched me as you have done, and none have earned so much of my trust before. I impart on you my weakness. My tenth thoracic vertebrae. If I ever fall into madness, I trust you to strike me down.’
Phainon’s tired eyes widened, taking in the weight bestowed on him. But to Mydei’s surprise, he laughed.
‘HKS. What’s so funny?’
‘Ha, it’s just… so you to ask that rather than for my protection first,’ Phainon managed to pant out.
Mydei chuckled, then smiled fondly. ‘Well… that goes without saying, doesn’t it?’
After all, even without knowing his weakness, Phainon had indeed always looked out for him. With him at his side, he knew he would suffer less deaths, maybe never even have to face an eternal one. Now, with weakness shared, it only further confirmed this belief. And if madness was what Mydei could be destined for, then knowing his most trusted companion would be with him through his life, and his final death, made the thought far less daunting.
Phainon’s eyes softened, and he nodded with a small smile. ‘In either case, I won’t disappoint you, Mydei.’
Mydei hummed. With that weight now shared, fatigue caught up to him once more. While his body was quickly on its way to perfection once more, his mind, no longer occupied by analysing his opponent and released from emotional burden, threatened to slip into a deep sleep, his body falling softly by Phainon’s side. Their faces were mere centimetres apart, their warm breaths mingling, tickling each other's lips, both flushing further at the near-contact in their unguarded states. And with that, Mydei’s restraint slipped further than before. Reaching out a hand for Phainon’s face once more, his thumb pressed to the corner of his lip in silent question. He watched his face for any sign of uncertainty, and when he was only met with a sleepy smile and the smallest of nods, Mydei closed the gap and met his lips with a slow and gentle kiss. So lost in the sensation of their mouths moving in sync, it felt as if it lasted just as long as their duel.
When Mydei finally pulled away, he was met with the sight of the Deliverer’s content face staring back at him with half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open. Mydei smiled and with a light sigh let his own close. The sweet sight now imprinted in his mind, his throbbing heartbeat, and the warm body next to his lulled him to sleep. Phainon smiled at the rare sight of the resting Prince. Watching his sleeping form, he reflected on Mydei’s words. Though this had been new to him, somewhere deep within his soul he already knew. Quiet instinct said to defend, guard, protect whenever Mydei’s back was exposed. Even in their first meeting when he approached from behind, it was there. He wanted to protect him always, whether his Prince was awake in battle, or sleeping safely as he was now.
But with exhaustion winning over, he let his own eyes slip shut, and with the remainder of his energy he wrapped his arm around Mydei’s back, clinging tight, only mourning that he could not protect him in their dreams. He’d never expected to fall for the Prince, especially so fast, but his expectations of the rumoured brutal warrior had been shattered over and over the more he came to know this deeply kind and selfless man. The Flame Chase Journey, no, this life, became something he almost couldn’t bear the thought of facing without him by his side. Luckily such a fate wouldn’t be one to worry about on this final night of their most intimate of battles. No animal, man, or monster found them, and they both rested peacefully, trusting they would awaken were trouble to come threaten the other.
Hours later when they awoke, neither of them needed to argue who the victor of this duel was, for they both accepted the outcome without a need for words: the battle and its aftermath proved not only that they were equally matched fighters, but the dearest of companions with a bond like no other, transcending both lifetimes past and ones to come.