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Phainon stared at the ceiling, drawing imaginary shapes with his mind’s eye in a futile effort to exhaust himself. He lost track of how long he’d been at it, but he knew it was longer than he’d actually been asleep. His hands gripped the sheets before sliding to his side where the bed felt painfully empty.
The shapes on the ceiling took on blonde hair, strong muscles, red tattoos and amber eyes. They shifted from static images to scenes from Phainon’s memory, of mornings spent walking through the streets, of days fighting side by side, of nights held in each others’ arms. With a defeated sigh, Phainon rolled out of bed and began dressing for the day.
It was still early in the Entry Hour. So early, in fact, that the only ones on the streets were those that rose first and those that never went to sleep. Phainon pulled back the curtains and let the light of Kephale flood the house, unfortunately highlighting just how empty it was with only one person living in it.
He made breakfast slowly, frequently checking the recipe that was beginning to crumple from excessive handling. He followed each step to the letter, practice and focus behind every movement.
Half a quint passed by the time he was done, and he set the table for two out of habit. When he sat down, he carefully took a picture of his breakfast and saved it to a gallery in his teleslate labeled “For Sharing Later”. Setting it down, he finally took a bite. He chewed it slowly, then frowned.
It didn’t taste the same at all.
Still, he needed to eat, so he finished his meal and cleaned up at a leisurely pace. It was still Entry Hour. He had nothing but time to kill.
With the dishes washed and put away, Phainon leaned against the kitchen counter and stared at the empty table. Dust had begun to collect on one of the chairs, so he took a duster to clean it off. With that started, he decided he might as well dust the entire house.
By the time he was done, it was the fourth quint of Entry Hour, so he figured it was time to head out and be a functional human being. He changed again and set out from his house with a smile on his face and his head held high.
Instantly, he was the Deliverer of Okhema, the perfect Chrysos Heir; the man with a tongue as silver as his hair and a blade as sharp as his wit. He projected this image like a second skin, a role he had grown accustomed to playing flawlessly.
Okhema began to bustle around him as Phainon leisurely made his way to the marketplace. Citizens eagerly greeted him as he passed, each earning a bright smile and small wave from the Chrysos Heir. Some stopped him for a chat in the streets, others thanked him for his service to the Holy City. He was their beacon of hope, a bastion of humanity’s dreams for the future. A sun that will rise in the next dawn.
Phainon performed his part beautifully.
With the fifth quint of the Entry Hour came time to do his errands. He passed by the grocers to pick up some food, stopped at Theodoros’ for a friendly chat, paid Chartonus a visit for some maintenance work on his sword. Everywhere he went, the city beamed to see their hero walk their streets and grace their presence. By the time he headed back to his place to drop off his purchases, Phainon felt like he had seen half the city already.
“Snowy!”
Phainon looked up from his doorway to see the familiar form of the scarlet-haired Chrysos Heir descend from the sky. Tribbie smiled as she approached, affectionately patting Phainon’s head. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Teacher Tribbie.” Phainon beamed back. “What brings you here today?”
Tribbie landed gently by Phainon’s side. “We came looking for you.”
“Me?”
“Mhm hmm!” The childlike priestess placed her hands on her hips. “We’re worried about you.”
Phainon tilted his head. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”
Tribbie jabbed her finger up at him accusingly. “You can’t lie to us, Snowy. We know you haven’t been sleeping well.”
The white-haired man frowned. “Teacher-”
“It’s okay to miss him.”
Phainon froze with his hand on the door. His heart lurched into his throat and he had to swallow hard to bring it back down. Tribbie was still looking up at him with concern in those deep blue eyes of hers. He took a deep breath then smiled as brightly as he could.
“I’m alright, Teacher. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Tribbie frowned as she placed a hand on his leg. “You know you don’t have to wait by yourself, right? We know how hard this is on you and we’re worried.”
Phainon finally let go of the door and patted Tribbie’s hand. “I know. But I’m okay. Really.”
The redhead still didn’t look convinced but she nodded. “Come talk to us if you feel lonely, okay? We’re here for you.”
“Thank you, Teacher.” The Deliverer ruffled Tribbie’s hair gently. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” Tribbie ascended a bit to meet Phainon’s eyes head-on. “Make sure you get some rest. Staying busy is important but so is not burning yourself out.”
“I will. I promise.”
Finally satisfied, Tribbie took off towards Marmoreal Palace. Phainon waved after her, then looked back at the door of his house. Suddenly, the thought of eating by himself again felt like too much to bear. With a heavy sigh, he stepped inside, dropped off his groceries, then headed back out.
He needed a distraction.
Kyros’ restaurant wasn’t exactly crowded in the early quints of the Lucid Hour but it was never empty. It was also one of the few places Phainon could get a meal without being treated like the second coming of Kephale. He liked eating here when he was too lazy to cook, though he could practically hear a proud voice arguing that they still had food back home.
He almost retorted out loud.
Phainon opted for a seat inside today, not really wanting to be out in the open where he could be accosted easily. That wasn’t to say people weren’t stubborn, but being inside reduced the chances. It’s not like he had someone to keep him occupied.
Damn, it’s worse than he thought.
With a sigh, he quietly ate his food and stared out the window to watch the people walk by. Tribbie was right. This was hard on him. It was hard not to think about the absence in his life, about where he was and what he was doing. Phainon replayed the last time they saw each other over and over in his head, how he turned away so that he didn’t have to stare after him, or worse, chase after him.
He glanced out the window and his eyes widened with surprise. A flash red walked by the window and disappeared out of sight before Phainon could catch who it was. He froze for a second before scrambling for his coin purse and tossing his payment on the table. He leaped out of his seat and bolted out of the restaurant, startling a few pedestrians as he scanned the crowds.
There. Ducking into a corner. Phainon politely excused himself before chasing after that glimpse of a muscled back. He almost barrelled into the side of a building as he turned into the corner, catching what could have been blonde hair leaving the side street. He sprinted down the alleyway, waking a dozing chimera in his wake as he made it back out into the main roads.
Amidst the crowd, Phainon was frantic. He knew he was getting looks. He didn’t care. He had to confirm what he saw.
He finally caught a familiar silhouette walking towards the artisan’s district. Phainon pushed his way through the crowd, fighting against the current towards the figure. Just a bit more. Just a bit closer. He reached out his hand. “Excuse me-”
The figure turned and…
It wasn’t him.
It was a young woman in a yellow shawl, dressed in a red chiton carrying a backpack of what appeared to be goods. She looked up at Phainon with confusion then flustered recognition. “L-Lord Phainon! I-Is something the matter?”
Phainon stared for a moment, taking her in. He took a deep breath and smiled politely. “Nothing’s wrong. You just seemed like you could use some help with that.”
“Oh, no! I-I’m fine, thank you.” The woman bowed deeply. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, m-my lord.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I appreciate the gesture b-but I can manage.”
Phainon nodded, then bowed in return. “Very well then. Take care, now.”
“I-I will! Thank you!”
With that, the woman hastily departed and Phainon was left standing in the middle of the street. He stared at nothing in particular, the hollowness in his chest growing with every passing second. It felt like the crowd was swelling around him, drowning his thoughts in the sounds of the city. It should have been a welcome distraction, but all he could hear was the chiding remarks of chasing ghosts in broad daylight.
Phainon let the crowd carry him away, walking to nowhere in particular. His entire day had been derailed by one mistaken identity and now he was at a loss of what to do. Maybe he should head back to his house, take a rest like Tribbie suggested. Clearly the lack of sleep was catching up to him.
“Oh, hey! Phainon!”
The Deliverer turned to see Caelus running up to him, Dan Heng trailing closely behind. “Hey hey! Fancy running into you here.”
Phainon smiled, something a little more genuine than the other smiles he gave today. “Hey, partner. How’re you? Adjusting well?”
“Yeaup! Dan Heng and I just made a stop at the artisan’s district to check out the shops.” Caelus beamed. “I didn’t think they could tell entire stories on plates! That was so cool to see.”
“It was very educational.” Dan Heng agreed.
“I’m glad to hear.” A thought crossed Phainon’s mind and he perked up at the idea. “Say, are you busy later?”
The gray-haired man titled his head. “Uh, no. Why?”
“I was thinking you could help me with some training. Could you use the power of Time to let me fight the Flame Reaver again?”
“I’m sorry?”
Phainon scratched the back of his head. “I wanna be prepared the next time I fight him. Do you think you can do that?”
“I mean… I guess I can try?” Caelus mused, rubbing his chin in thought. “Sure, yeah. If we go back to the Grove, I think I can replay that memory with Mem’s help.”
“That’d be great! Thanks, partner!” The white-haired man smiled, clapping Caelus on the back. “Alright, meet me at the gates of Okhema during the Action Hour. I just need to get something.”
“Sure thing! See you then!” Caelus smiled, dragging Dan Heng with him as they headed off to what Phainon presumes is lunch. As they left, he heard Caelus mutter. “Wait, when is Action Hour again?”
Phainon shook his head with amusement as he navigated to the edge of the marketplace. He headed up the stairs at the side of the building and up to the comfortingly familiar rooftops, staring out over the rest of the city. He could almost see a muscular man standing at the edge of the roof, arms crossed, watching life work beneath him. Even with his back turned, he would hear Phainon’s footsteps and comment on his tardiness.
“Actually, I’m perfectly on time.” Phainon muttered, coming up to stand at the edge of the roof himself. “You’re just too early.”
The wind brushed past him like a gentle punch to the shoulder. Phainon laughed and leaned to the side expecting a weight to push him back. “My my, never took you to be the impatient type. Or perhaps… you just missed me?”
A blush on tanned cheeks. A huff and aversion of eyes. Phainon’s heart ached with affection and loneliness. He backed up from the edge and found his footing in a hole where tiles used to be. “Shall we then?”
He ducked under a blow, danced his way to the other side of the roof, launched his own strike against nothing at all. He moved to the side, imagined the punch that he would have to block, spun around to carry that phantom momentum.
There was a kick that landed squarely in his gut. He staggered back, barely dodging the follow-up. He hopped back and ducked under the next strike, charging forward to tackle the blonde man to the ground. Phainon tumbled out of the way to avoid getting flung backwards and off the roof, rolling back onto his feet as the Kremnoan scrambled onto his feet. He caught the next punch, wincing at the way the gauntlets dug into his skin but grinning all the same. He almost didn’t see the leg sweep that sent him hurtling to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs. He looked up to see the most beautiful man he’d ever seen looking down at him with an air of smugness.
“Giving up already, Deliverer? I expected more from you.”
Phainon laughed and pushed himself up on his elbows. “Not quite yet, Your Highness.”
Before the blonde man could say a word, Phainon grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him down to the floor, rolling them both until he had the Kremnoan pinned beneath him. “That easy? You’re getting sloppy.”
He didn’t miss the blush that spread across the prince’s face, a wave of satisfaction washing over Phainon as he leaned forward. “Unless you wanted to end up like this?”
The Kremnoan huffed, but kept his eyes locked onto the man above him. “HKS.”
Phainon blinked out of his reverie, finding himself still standing at the edge of the roof. Beneath him, life continued onwards, the people of Okhema unaware of the hollowed Deliverer living in the memories of the past. He felt a slight heave in his chest as he sat down and took a deep breath. No. No he wasn’t going to cry here. That would be silly and foolish and unnecessary.
He shakily wiped the edge of his eyes. “Damn you, Mydeimos. Why do I have to miss you so damn much?”
-//-//-🍷-//-//-
The black tide creature screeched as Mydei crushed its core with a well-placed stomp. He took a breath, then a second, before surveying the battlefield. It was eerily quiet, the calm between waves. Mydei knew the next one would be arriving soon, so he needed to conserve his strength.
He staggered back to his throne, sliding down onto the smooth red crystal as he took several deep breaths. Already, he could hear the rallying cries of the black tide in the distance, but he figured he had a few more minutes before he would have to resume his endless war.
The Guardian of Amphoreus turned his head to the shining light in the distance, well beyond the walls of Castrum Kremnos, well beyond the fields that lay before it. Okhema was a beacon in the night, a reminder of what he had to lose.
Of who he had to lose.
Almost like a dream, he heard a faint chuckle on the breeze, that familiar teasing lilt bringing to mind snow-white hair and sky blue eyes. He could almost hear the challenge on who could kill the most number of enemies before the next Curtain-Fall Hour and he let out a defeated laugh.
Truly, he had already succumbed to the madness.
Still, he held on to those little bits of inane delusion. As fabricated as they were, they were a comfort to his lonely duty in keeping the tide at bay. With the roars of monsters approaching, Mydei took one last breath before standing to meet them once more. He will see his Deliverer again, whether it be here or where the west wind ends. Until then, he will fight.
For Amphoreus, and for a future they can hold together.