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Pale orange fading to red. This is the color he always sees when he closes his eyes. Pale orange fading to red. The scent of wheat fills his nostrils. Pale orange fading to red. Warmth seeps into him. His lips curl into a smile without him needing to think about it. He’s home.
“...Tch. What are you smiling all goofily for, Deliverer?”
Oh. He knows this voice. His smile widens before he even turns towards the owner.
“Can’t a man be happy when he’s back in his hometown, Mydei? It’s been so long since I last saw this scenery…”
Silence. Then a long, drawn out sigh that only makes him smile wider. His cheeks hurt, but his chest is full of a soothing fondness. Mydei’s shoulder brushes against his, and he retaliates by pressing his shoulder against his. The warmth of his companion seeps into him. Another long sigh leaves Mydei’s lips, but he does not move away.
For a while, the two men say nothing more. The wind blows, ruffling their hair, the wheat fields swaying like giant waves of golden ichor. He turns his head towards his companion. Pale orange fading to red. That’s better.
“I thought you wanted to enjoy the scenery. Why are you looking at me now, Deliverer?” Mydei’s face is turned towards his now. Bright yellow, just like the sun. His eyebrows crease with mirth, and his smile turns just a little sharper.
“I was just thinking about how your hair looks like the sun setting on the wheat fields.” He reaches forward, taking Mydei’s braid between his fingers. The man’s brows furrow, and he catches his wrist in his armored hand.
“Tch. You really can’t keep your hands to yourself, HKS?” He only laughs in reply, his chest shaking with the earnest sound of his amusement.
He leans closer, until his nose nearly brushes against Mydei’s. Against all odds, his companion loosens his hold on his wrist, but another heavy sigh escapes him. In return, he lets go of his braid. “Sorry, Prince of Kremnos. This foolish commoner is simply enraptured by your beauty.”
Mydei scoffs, but leans closer anyway, until he can count all of his pale orange lashes.
“HKS.” Mydei breathes out, before pressing his lips to his. Pale orange fading to red. He can still taste the pomegranate juice Mydei always drinks. Pale orange fading to red. The rustling of the wheat fills his ears. Pale orange fading to red. The color of Mydei’s hair, of the sun setting on the wheat fields of Aedes Elysiae, of the warmth that blooms in his chest and spreads through his whole body.
Eventually, he opens his eyes.
Pale orange fading to red. This is the color he can only see when he closes his eyes. Pale orange fading to red. The scent of iron fills his nostrils. Pale orange fading to red. Warmth drains out of his skin. He exhales a ragged breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Silence. Then a long, drawn out sigh that makes his chest shudder. His whole body hurts, and his chest is full of a suffocating grief. His shoulders bear the weight of the world, and even while on his knees, he fulfills his duty. The cold of his companions seeps into him. Another long sigh leaves him. He does not move.
There is nothing around him, and he remains unmoving, surrounded by a bath of liquid gold. He can’t look away. Bright gold. That gnaws at his mind.
Bright gold, just like blood. His eyebrows droop with exhaustion, and his lips part like he wants to speak.
He reaches forward, tracing through the golden blood with his fingers. His pulse is thumping harshly against the inside of his wrist.
He can only choke on a breath, his chest shaking with the earnest sound of his pain.
Against all odds, he pulls his fingers away from the golden blood.
He brings his hand close to his face until he can see all of his friends’ deaths in the shine of gold.
Pale orange fading to red. He can taste nothing more than the iron pooling on his tongue. Pale orange fading to red. His ears are buzzing from the blood rushing through his veins. Pale orange fading to– No. Bright gold, everywhere. The color of coins, of blood, of Kephale, of the Destruction.
He closes his eyes, and he only sees darkness now.