Archive of Our Own

It all started during one innocuous lunch.

Mydei had been looking for Castorice. It had been a while since the two of them had spent time together, and he treasured her companionship enough that he wanted to make sure that they wouldn’t drift apart. So, he invited her to dine together in the Marmoreal Market.

Castorice had easily agreed, and they met up right before Action Hour. Mydei arrived earlier than her, and was able to spot Castorice once he started to feel that familiar touch of death. He brushed off the feeling easily, instead nodding to greet her.

“Hello, Lord Mydei,” Castorice said, bowing her head.

“Just Mydei,” he corrected, but Castorice only shook her head and smiled faintly. Next time, then. She sat down on the kline next to him, with only a small table to separate the two of them.

He was glad that Castorice was more comfortable with stepping closer towards him. After all, his immortality was a natural antithesis to her touch of death, rendering the need for a distance of five paces moot. He passed her a menu to order.

A silent moment passed as they both took their time reading. Neither of them were people who got anxious to fill a silence, after all. After they finished ordering, Mydei finally sparked up a conversation.

“How have you been, Castorice?” he asked gently, taking a sip of his pomegranate juice. Castorice replied softly, “I’ve been good, Lord Mydei. I hope you have been well too.”

“Mydei,” he corrected again, but she just kept a polite smile. At this point, this back-and-forth had become a familiar game to them. “And yes, I’ve been doing alright. I apologize for the long absence; it’s been a while since we last talked.”

Castorice shook her head. “Do not apologize, Lord Mydei. I understand that you just recently returned to the city from your mission. How was it?”

“It went well, thankfully,” he replied. “Traveling took longer than I realized, but otherwise, everything went as expected.”

Castorice smiled wryly. “You were gone for longer than usual this time, Lord Mydei. Ah – this may be a bit… presumptuous to say but… many people missed you, while you were gone.”

Mydei pretended not to know what (or, more specifically, who) she was alluding to. Instead, he chose to answer her nonchalantly. “Well, I’m back now.”

Castorice opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, he couldn’t help himself from adding more: “Tell the Deliverer to stop worrying.” Damn it.

Castorice huffed a silent laugh. “Of course.”

At that moment, their meals were delivered. They both gave their thanks, and Castorice took out her teleslate to take a photo of their food. He gave her a moment to finish, waiting until she placed her device down on the table before taking his first bite.

They ate at a leisurely pace while engaging in idle talk and catching each other up on recent happenings. It was the most relaxed he had been in a while, considering he had spent the last couple of weeks travelling and fighting. Castorice was as calm and steady as always, and her company was as soothing as ever.

Their afternoon ended pleasantly as they finished up and prepared to leave. Castorice was already standing up, bowing her head respectfully. “I enjoyed spending time with you today, Lord Mydei.”

“Mydei,” he said exasperatedly. She only giggled slightly. “I shall take my leave, now.”

She did just that. Mydei swirled the remnants of the pomegranate juice he had in his goblet before tilting his head back and drinking the rest of it in one big gulp. He closed his eyes as he allowed himself to relax back on the kline, blindly placing the goblet on the table beside him.

He opened his eyes in confusion when he felt his hand knock against something cold and solid instead. That’s when he realized: Castorice had left her teleslate behind.

“Castorice!” he called out to a distant figure. But it was too late; Castorice was long gone.

He sighed, reaching out for the teleslate to pocket it and return to it later. However, Castorice’s screen lit up as a notification appeared.

He shouldn’t have looked. He wouldn’t have looked, but too many things stood out for him not to notice:

OPERATION PHAIDEI

Go for it, Snowy!!

10/3 | Action Hour, 1st Quint

Phainon: By Kephale, Mydei’s abs are divine.

Time seemed to stand still. What.

…

Huh?

Mydei froze, as still as a marble statue, but his thoughts were racing.

Oh, he thought faintly. Is this what it’s like to have an out-of-body experience? Those priests of Oronyx seemed all the more credible now.

Multiple questions ran through his mind in a split second. What was this chat? Who made it? Why was Phainon in it? Who else was in it? Why did it seem like Lady Tribbie made it?

And why, in Nikador’s great name, was Phainon talking about his damn abs????

Another question struck him, perhaps the most obvious sign that he was losing it:

… Why is it called Phaidei, he thought hysterically. Why is Phainon’s name first?

The screen of Castorice’s teleslate had long turned off at his inaction, but he was still stuck in place.

What in Nikador’s name is the Deliverer up to now? The thought of the title alone was enough to exhaust him. He huffed out a disbelieving sound, finally regaining his senses and placing Castorice’s teleslate back where it used to be.

He slowly reclined back in his seat. He closed his eyes. Everything was fine. Nothing changed. If he could just keep repeating that, it would eventually become true and maybe the heat in his face would cool down.

Phaidei, his brain whispered incessantly. Divine abs. Phaidei. Me and Phainon. Abs. Phainon and me. Phainon. Phaidei. What…

Eventually, the sound of hurried footsteps coming closer broke him out of his reverie. Without even opening his eyes, he could feel that familiar cold touch once again. When he opened them, Castorice was back, looking more ruffled and embarrassed than she had left him.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, and he followed her gaze to that damn device. “Sorry, I forgot my teleslate here.”

Mydei didn’t say anything; he didn’t trust himself to. He watched as she picked it up, the motion lighting up the screen. Her eyes quickly read the notification, before widening in alarm.

He pretended not to see the furtive glances she was throwing him, no doubt wondering if he had seen anything. Another question emerged – why was Castorice in the group chat, too? – but he willed himself to stay casual and unruffled.

He must have fooled her enough, because she didn’t say anything as she bowed her head and left once again. It was alright, though, because Mydei was incredibly nonchalant. He was fine. He was incredibly normal. Nothing changed.

Divine abs. Phaidei. Phainon and me. Together? He felt a heat rush to his cheeks once more.

Who was he kidding? Mydei’s eyes twitched. This changed everything.

Mydei wasn’t blind. Nor, to the disbelief of many, was he much of a fool in matters of the heart. No, he was familiar with the notion of love, of those golden threads that connected the hearts of mortals. He was less familiar, however, with the concepts of pouring your heart out to your desired, of poems and ballads, and of needing words to remind your beloved of what you felt.

No. What he was familiar with, was this:

The feeling of a back pressed against his in the midst of battle, a soft cape against his bare skin. The sounds of metal clashing against metal, of fierce smiles and duels that seemed to last for all of eternity. Of a sword guarding his back, of dancing alongside a presence that completed all of his blind spots, like the perfect puzzle piece.

Of striding against the current of Death, to reach that warmth once more.

But beyond their responsibilities on the battlefield, and beyond their identities as hero and prince, there were quieter, gentler moments that defined them:

Of waking up before Entry Hour to prepare breakfast. Of strolling around the market and pausing before an antique in hesitation. Of silly competitions, the only time he could truly let go of the title of Crown Prince and all the pressure it held. Of moments on rooftops, sharing pasts and stories from a bygone era.

Of Phainon, who was his equal in every way that mattered, who was more divine than even Kephale themselves, sometimes.

…

Phainon, who, apparently, was busy complimenting his body? In a group chat without Mydei? In a group chat whose name was a mix of their names?

He’s insane, Mydei thought. Contrary to what he told himself, he had not stopped thinking about it. It had been over a day since his encounter with Castorice, and Mydei couldn’t go to sleep for the second night in a row. He was too restless. He thumped his head against his pillow in frustration, a growl slipping out.

His teleslate was blowing up with messages from the Deliverer. Though his behaviour may be read as clingy, Mydei couldn’t blame him too much. After all, it had been a whole day since Mydei returned from a longer-than-usual expedition, and he had yet to go and greet Phainon in-person.

He rolled over on his side. It was nearly the Third Quint of Curtain-Fall Hour. He sighed heavily. He knew that there was no way he was getting any semblance of sleep tonight.

Resigned to his fate, Mydei reached for his teleslate and opened Phainon’s messages for the eighth time that night.

Phainon

Praise the sun!

10/3 | Lucid Hour, 2nd Quint

Phainon: Hey Mydei! I heard you’re back in the city

Phainon: Up for a spar and for some catching up?

Mydei: Sure

Phainon: [Happy sticker]

Phainon: Alright!

Phainon: Are you free tomorrow?

10/3 | Parting Hour, 1st Quint

Phainon: Mydei?

10/4 | Entry Hour, 3rd Quint

Phainon: Ah, are you not free today, then? Let me know

10/4 | Entry Hour, 4th Quint

Phainon: Well, I’ll be free all day, so let’s catch up whenever you have time.

10/4 | Action Hour, 2nd Quint

Phainon: Mydei?

Mydei was glad that Aglaea didn’t choose to add a read feature to the World Wound Web. He let his eyes linger on Phainon’s icon, before letting out a sigh and letting his teleslate turn off again. He still didn’t know how to feel.

Mydei wasn’t blind to Phainon’s lingering stares. That man was as easy to read as a baby chimera. He couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that preened at the Deliverer’s attention, nor could he deny the existence of the part of him that wanted to… look back, too.

At Phainon, the prophesied Deliverer of Amphoreus, who was set to carry on the fate of the world. A man that was as radiant, if not even more so, than Kephale’s Dawn Device; a man that had gone through horrors but was able to place a smile on his face to comfort others; a Deliverer who would reach out a hand to anyone that needed help.

But he was more than that image of the perfect hero, wasn’t he? He was Phainon, of Aedes Elysiae, who would introduce the name with a smile on his face but would later tell Mydei stories of his hometown with a wistful look in his eyes. He was Phainon, his equal who matched him in every fight they had gone through together, whether it was a friendly spar or a deathly battlefield.

Phainon, who was smart enough to win ten debates in a row but would still fall for fake antiques. Phainon, who was kind enough to extend a helping hand to everyone, but would let himself get caught up in his anger and haste just as often. Phainon, who seemed divine, perfect, and without flaw, yet… just as human as Mydei was.

And it was also this Phainon, the Deliverer of Amphoreus, who was set to carry on the fate of the world… without Mydei.

And wasn’t that the crux of the problem?

Mydei was well aware how he felt towards the Deliverer. There was no one else he’d rather stay by his side than Phainon; no one else he’d rather wake up beside in the mornings. No one else whose sword he wanted in his back; no other embrace he wanted to have his final breath in.  

But Mydei was just a fallen Crown Prince of a crumbling dynasty. He knew, as well as all of the other Heirs, that he wouldn’t be able to accompany Phainon until the end of the Flame-Chase journey. There was…

There was simply not enough time for the two of them, in the grand scheme of things.

“In another life,” Mydei whispered into the quiet night air. “Maybe then…”

Mydei made a resolution to himself. It might have been cruel for the both of them, but it would be better than indulging in a fantasy with a time limit. Phainon could try all he wants, but Mydei couldn’t dare allow himself to be selfish.

Mydei was still a man of action, however, and he couldn’t hold himself back from meeting the Deliverer again. It was already the fifth day of the Month of Strife, a whole two days more than he had anticipated he would dedicate to ignoring his problems.

But even the thought of the Deliverer’s kicked puppy-eyes was enough motivation for Mydei to head to the training grounds. By all means, Phainon shouldn’t be there; he had only mentioned that he was free all-day yesterday, not today. But as Mydei walked up the steps to the training grounds, he was sure: Phainon would always be where his feet led him.

Sure enough, he was there. It seemed that Phainon was in the midst of running through his own training drills, so Mydei stood back and simply watched. When Phainon finished, the Deliverer turned to him. Mydei wasn’t surprised that he already knew that he was there.

The distance between them seemed larger than usual, but it was broken when Phainon smiled at him, the way he always did. Mydei walked towards him involuntarily.

Without speaking another word, they fell into a practiced routine of jabs and blocks. The shine in Phianon’s eyes mirrored the rays of Kephale’s Dawn Device — it felt like returning home, all of a sudden.

The distance between them shrank in an instant, and life in Okhema seemed to go back to normal. As per usual, Aglaea sent him and Phainon on another expedition out of the city. This time, Tribbie had arranged all of their accommodations.

The mission was a simple one. It was a few days away from Okhema, and they only had to meet with a client in the morning once they reached it. However, when the two of them finally reached the city and settled into their inn, Mydei stopped.

Nikador, I may not be your strongest soldier. Mydei took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the situation fully sank in.

Next to him, Phainon was silent. His face was an interesting mix of embarrassment, surprise, and shyness. There was a red flush that was already rising up the Deliverer’s neck, and Mydei couldn’t help but notice that the colour seemed to mimic a new dawn against Phainon’s sun tattoo.

“So…” Phainon trailed off, coughing into his fist. “What are we going to do?”

Mydei blinked slowly at him, before turning to the source of their problems.

That’s right. There was only one bed.

Mydei took another deep breath before blinking. Nope. It was still there.

Phainon stopped fiddling nervously and instead was absorbed in furiously texting someone on his teleslate. Phaidei – his inner voice whispered, but he dismissed the thought right away. Eventually, Phainon deemed it fit to confront the issue again. The Deliverer turned to him. This time, he looked visibly less nervous and more settled.

“I’ll take the floor,” Phainon said decisively. He puffed up with pride, as if he had just found the answer to Amphoreus’ hardest prophecy tablet. He looked at Mydei with bright eyes that reminded him of one of the chimeras from the Garden of Life — Bubbles?

“No,” Mydei said simply, and watched as Phainon’s face fell. Before Phainon could argue, Mydei continued: “We can share.”

Mydei walked towards the bed with a cool facade. He carefully deposited his things nearby, not bothering to turn around when he heard Phainon squawk. It was only when Phainon finished settling his own belongings on the other side of the bed did the Deliverer speak again.

“Are you sure, Mydei?” Phainon asked mindfully. “I wouldn’t want to impose. It’s not trouble at all for me; I’ve had worse.”

Mydei raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that I, too, have had less comfortable sleeping conditions? It wouldn’t be the first time that I had to share a cot with another man.” Phainon’s eye twitched at the phrasing — why was he bothered, all of a sudden? — Mydei kept going: “You forget that I led the Kremnoan Detachment to wander around for years, Deliverer. Let’s not make a big fuss and waste any luxuries that we’ve been afforded. The bed is big enough for the both of us.”

Well, that last line may have been a stretch. The two of them were both taller than the average mortal, and neither of them were of the skinny type, anyways. Regardless, Phainon seemed to finally calm down and accept the situation.

“It’s late now,” Mydei commented. “Let’s take a rest and continue our mission in the morning.”

Phainon nodded. Mydei let out an imperceptible sigh, before turning to get ready for the night. Despite his appearance, Mydei was slightly worn out from the trip, and he wouldn’t mind finally letting go and taking a rest.

Mydei laid on the bed, closing his eyes and waiting for Phainon to stop shuffling around awkwardly.

“You know what?” Phainon’s voice rang out. “Maybe I’ll keep watch for the night. The city isn’t safe —”

“Deliverer,” Mydei growled out. “We haven’t gotten proper rest in nearly a week. The city is fine. Sleep.”

Finally, Mydei felt a heavy weight dip on the other side of the bed.

Once Phainon finished finding a comfortable position, Mydei opened his eyes and turned on his left side to meet the Deliverer’s piercing stare. Mydei startled slightly once he did. He didn’t realize that Phainon would be this close.

Phainon was staring at him silently. Mydei returned the favour, allowing himself a rare moment to indulge in tracing his eyes over the lines and contours that shaped the Deliverer’s face. Like this, Phainon looked softer in a way that Mydei hardly ever had the chance to see, even if the two of them spent more time with each other than anyone else.

Phainon’s hair fell into his face lightly, the part in his hair less obvious, and his whole forehead covered by bangs. It made him look more boyish and less divine, similar to a humble farmhand rather than the saviour of the world. His pale cheeks were slightly rosy still, and his blue eyes were gently narrowing asleep.

Mydei let himself indulge in mapping the Deliverer’s eyes, his brows, his nose, his cheeks, and then a little farther south to those lips. The distance between them was near infinitesimal, and their surroundings were so silent as if they were waiting for something to happen.

Phainon’s lips moved, but only to break the fragile silence between them. “Mydei?” He whispered. The sound brought Mydei back to the present. “Are you really okay with this?”

Mydei stared at Phainon. Oh Nikador, he thought hysterically, this was the so-called ‘Boyfriend POV’, wasn’t it? Stelle had told him a while back about it. He gulped, the sound embarrassingly clear in the quietness.

He coughed and scoffed in an attempt to cover up his emotions and the fact that he was just now realizing that he was sharing a bed with Phainon and the implications of it all. Dear Mnestia, why had it taken him this long for the situation to sink in?

He couldn’t back down now. He willed the heat in his cheeks to fade away. When it wasn’t happeningfast enough, he simply turned on his other side, his back facing Phainon. Even in this new position, he could still feel a warmthbehind him.

“It’s fine, Deliverer,” Mydei said with a false bravado. “Go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Phainon replied, then seemed to do just that.

Mydei envied him. Mydei couldn’t sleep for the entire night. Too many thoughts were running through his mind.

He was sharing a bed with the Deliverer? Phainon?

Phaidei? His brain slipped in traitorously, and he was once again brought back to another dilemma that he had. He chose to ignore that one.

Mydei closed his eyes. Everything was fine. There was nothing going on between Phainon and him; why would sharing a bed be weird?

He fell asleep without realizing it. When he woke up, he was surrounded by an uncomfortable warmth. He groaned — he hadn’t woken up in such a heat since his time spent in Castrum Kremnos. The city of Okhema was always accompanied by a cool breeze — then he realized that he couldn’t move his limbs either.

Sluggishly, Mydei opened his eyes and was greeted by an unfamiliar sight.

It seemed that Mydei must have turned around in the middle of the night, because he was no longer facing the wall but was instead met with the Deliverer’s puffy face. Way closer than it had been last night, too, and Mydei didn’t have to look far to find out why.

Their legs were a tangled mess, so much so that it was hard to tell who was trapping whom. Phainon had a heavy arm slung across Mydei’s waist, the weight of it familiar, but the situation decidedly not. Mydei, himself, was not entirely without blame. His own hand was over the Deliverer’s body and was lying gently behind Phainon’s hair, as if he was… caressing it.

Mydei froze. Time seemed to come to a standstill as Mydei became more awake and the situation fully dawned on him. He dared not move and barely breathed in fear of waking up Phainon.

Unbidden, the words he told Phainon last night ran back to him. It wouldn’t be the first time that I had to share a cot with another man, he had said. When you were wandering with a group of people, it was inevitable that they would have to make concessions and squish in.

Regardless, Mydei had never woken up like — like this. He had never woken up in someone else’s embrace, not this… tenderly, at least. The warmth was getting to him now, and Mydei felt a heat creeping up his cheeks and his neck.

He silently called on Cerces to help solve his dilemma. Thankfully, an answer came to him. Why make it his problem?

He closed his eyes once more. This time, the warmth surrounding him pulled him back to sleep much more easily.

When he woke up again, it was to an empty bed. He tamped down the sense of loss inside, and instead met the Deliverer downstairs. Neither of them spoke of it.

By now, Mydei had come to expect that although the Trailblazers were reliable and trustworthy companions, they also brought with them a certain sense of chaos.

This time, the culprit was primarily Stelle. She stood before him, peering up at him with a gleam in her eyes that almost made Mydei hesitant to talk. But he wasn’t one to be rude, so: “Stelle. What are you doing here?”

Stelle smiled brightly. Way too brightly, considering that it was still the first quint of Entry Hour and he knew her to be someone who enjoyed sleeping in a little. That was the first sign that something was… off.

The second sign was her tone of voice, all saccharine and way too artificial. “Mydei!” she exclaimed, dragging out the syllables. “I need a favour.”

He raised a brow, crossing his arms. Even if the Chrysos Heirs were indebted to the Trailblazers, he wouldn’t blindly agree without hearing her out first. “What do you need?”

Stelle only shook her head. “Not here.” They were still right outside of Mydei’s personal quarters. She turned around, signalling for him to follow. He sighed. He had nothing better to do, and a part of him was curious about what she needed.

She led him through the winding halls of Marmoreal Palace. Mydei had thought that she was leading him to her own room, but she passed by it without a second glance. Eventually, they arrived at the Overflowing Bath. In the distance, he could already see a familiar figure talking to one of the citizens.

The suspicious feeling that was nagging at him grew more incessant as Stelle approached Phainon. The Deliverer, as astute as always, turned around and spotted them before they could get too close. Immediately, Phainon smiled brightly.

“Hey Mydei!” He greeted them as they got closer. “And… Stelle? What are you two doing together this early?”

Mydei crossed his arms. “She said she had a favour to ask of me.”

Phainon turned to her, a quizzical look on his face. “What’s this about, Stelle?”

Mydei watched as Stelle stared hard and silently at Phainon. Then, suddenly, it seemed that Phainon realized something, because his eyes widened in panic. Mydei tamped down the urge to growl at being left out of the loop.

Before either of the Chrysos Heirs could react, Stelle whipped something out from — thin air? — and quickly took Mydei’s wrist with one hand and Phainon’s wrist in the other. In a series of movements that were somehow hard for even Mydei to follow, Stelle had them tied together using silver chains.

Mydei pulled at the chains, not bothering to care how Phainon was forced to follow the movement and stumbled. “What’s the meaning of this?” He asked her. The chains weren’t ordinary; they were adorned with what seemed like gold coins and blue crystals and were humming with a power that felt defensive and stalwart. Instinctually, he could feel that it would be difficult to break free of them.

“Stelle,” Phainon said desperately. “Please… what are you doing?”

The Trailblazer only smiled mischievously at them, backing away slowly. Mydei turned to chase after her, but Phainon pulled him back using the chains. “Deliverer – ?”

Phainon only looked incredibly mixed about the whole ordeal. Mydei turned back to Stelle, who was noticeably farther now. He raised his voice to match the distance between them. “I thought you needed a favour?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “Do me a favour and don’t kill me, thanks!” Then, she ran away altogether. Mydei could only stare at her back with his mouth agape.

He felt a slight tug at his wrist. He followed the movement and trailed his eyes over Phainon, whose left hand was clearly connected to Mydei’s right one. Mydei narrowed his eyes at the Deliverer.

Phainon’s eyes widened as Mydei met his gaze. “Deliverer… are you in on this?”

“No!” He exclaimed too quickly. He didn’t seem entirely insincere, though. “I had no idea she would do this.”

There was something about the phrasing that seemed off to Mydei, but he chose to ignore it. He also chose to ignore the growing attention that the two of them were getting; the baths were emptier considering it was still early, but there were still a few people milling about. One of them even had their teleslate out, secretly taking a photo and no doubt posting it on the World Wound Web. Mydei took a deep breath.

Phainon was in the midst of fiddling with the chain around his own wrist and failing to unlock its mechanisms. Mydei watched him go at it for a couple of moments, before he felt tired of watching the Deliverer fail spectacularly. “Leave it, Deliverer.”

Phainon was confused. “What?”

Mydei only said simply, “Stelle wouldn’t leave us like this forever. It will either unlock by itself, or she’ll come over and take it off once her… goals have been achieved.” Mydei pursed his lips. “I just don’t know what goal she’s trying to achieve, here.”

Phainon’s eyes quickly glanced away; Mydei caught the movement and narrowed his eyes. Phainon cleared his throat and raised his voice: “Yes! You’re probably right, Mydei.”

Mydei turned away. Out of the corner of his eyes, however, he caught Phainon discreetly pulling out his teleslate and sending a message with one hand. He couldn’t see who he was texting, but he had a feeling. Before he could interrogate the Deliverer on whether or not he did know what was going on, Phainon pocketed it and turned to him excitedly, as if an idea had come to him.

“Are you free today, Mydei?”

Mydei took a moment to think, then nodded. Phainon smiled. “Good! So am I, by the way. Why don’t you and I test out the durability of these chains?”

Mydei raised a brow. “How so?”

“Let’s duel!” Phainon exclaimed. In response, Mydei only shook his right hand, hearing the metals clink together. “Would these not get in the way?”

Phainon only scoffed dramatically. His tone goaded him, “Didn’t take you for a quitter, Mydeimos. What, scared of being a little tied up?”

Mydei stared at him, then looked at their connection. The chains themselves weren’t short; Mydei could walk at least one pace before the connection ran taut. He hummed. It was doable, and he couldn’t deny that a part of him was intrigued. He grinned at Phainon. “Let’s go then, Deliverer.”

They spent nearly the whole day at the training grounds testing the limits of the chains. Stelle had clearly gotten it from beyond the sky — even when the two of them started tapping into their powers, it wouldn’t budge. Eventually, they learned to dance around it and with it, and Mydei had taken great joy in a particular maneuver where he followed Phainon’s movement to trip him over the chains and punch the breath out of him.

The two of them lost themselves in the familiar dance just like that — so much so that eventually, Stelle appeared once more at the edges of the training grounds with a conflicted look on her face.

When there was a pause in their battle, she shuffled over nervously. Mydei only stared at her curiously; he was a lot less irked now that he had been enjoying it, anyways. She gazed at them exasperatedly.

“Did you guys fight all day.” It wasn’t posed as a question. Phainon chuckled sheepishly. Stelle sighed, then unlocked some sort of mechanism and released it from their wrists. Mydei rubbed his sore wrist. It felt weird to move his arm without something weighing it down.

Stelle looked surprisingly disappointed. He still had no idea what she wanted to achieve in the first place. Before she could pocket it away, Phainon stopped her.

“Ah —” Mydei looked at him curiously as he continued. “Do you mind if I… keep that, actually?”

Stelle raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Whatever. It’s a Break Effect link rope anyways; I don’t need it.” Whatever that meant.

Phainon smiled at her in thanks, pocketing it. When he caught Mydei’s questioning stare, he only shrugged and said, “Who knows if we need this again?”

This month was shaping up to be quite weird for Mydei. First, the whole ordeal with Castorice and her teleslate and the Phaide — group chat, that she and Phainon were in. Then, their accommodations in the inn, and now, the whole situation with Stelle acting off?

And somehow, Phainon kept using his damned teleslate during all of those. Phaidei, his mind whispered. This time, he didn’t chase the thought away. He was getting a nagging suspicion that his answers could be found there.

As if his thoughts were being read, Cipher appeared before him. He had been idly reclining on his balcony kline and enjoying a goblet of pomegranate juice when the Calamity demigod suddenly hung upside down from his roof.

He refused to startle, only pausing imperceptibly before finishing his sip. He had learned not to expect her; she was incredibly slippery and her speed could make her appear before you in an instant before you even had the chance to register her presence. Once he set down his goblet, he addressed the demigod.

“Lord Cipher,” he greeted. “What brings you here?” Was he to start expecting all of the Chrysos Heirs to suddenly pay him a visit?

Cipher gently rocked her body side to side. Her tail was wrapped around the eaves of the roof, and there was that ever-present smirk on her face. “Heya, Immortal Little Prince! How are you doing?”

Mydei answered simply, “Fine.” He learned that simplicity was usually the fastest way for her to get to the point. Predictably, she seemed bored by the answer and pouted. “Aw~ what a basic answer, Little Prince!”

He repeated his earlier question. “What brings you here?”

Cipher landed softly on her feet, taking a bite from the plate of fruits that he had set out. He didn’t take any offense, only waiting for her to get to the point. Once she finished munching, she held out her hand expectedly. “Give me your teleslate!”

Mydei furrowed his brows. “What for?”

Cipher grinned mischievously. “You’re not dumb at all, Immortal Little Prince,” she started. Mydei only raised a brow. “I know you’ve been noticing that something’s been… off.”

Mydei gently swirled the pomegranate juice in his goblet. “Oh? Have you deemed it fit to enlighten me, then?”

Cipher nodded, her hand still stretched out. Although he was intrigued, he couldn’t help but ask: “What’s in it for you?”

Cipher scoffed. “Ah, don’t worry about it. This isn’t a favour from me to you. Think of it as more of a… mutually beneficial deal.”

Mydei took a couple more moments to think, before shrugging to himself. Ah, he was a little curious after all. He handed her his teleslate.

Cipher didn’t open it right away. Instead, she observed the case. “What do these letters mean?” She asked innocently. Mydei answered unthinkingly, “HKS —” he cut himself off, a heat rising to his cheeks.

Cipher only giggled. Ultimately, she chose not to tease him further, a fact that Mydei was grateful for and perhaps the reason why he was more obedient in unlocking his teleslate and letting her mess around with it.

Actually, he had no idea what she was doing. She was making no effort to hide from him; in fact, she was making sure that Mydei saw the whole process. It seemed that she was making a new account on his behalf, keeping the profile picture as the default icon but naming it as ‘A Little Kitty’. He couldn’t tell if she was referring to herself or him with the name, but it didn’t bother him.

Once she was done, she pulled out her own teleslate — a dark blue one with various cats printed on the back — and started operating it. She gave him back his device, focusing entirely on hers. This time, before Mydei could sneak a glance at her device, he felt his own teleslate vibrate with a new notification.

As he turned to look at it, his heart stopped for a moment.

OPERATION PHAIDEI

Go for it, Snowy!!

[Cipher] added [A Little Kitty] to the group chat.

Castorice: Lord Cipher…?

Mydei froze, blinking slowly. Nope, it was still there. His teleslate kept pinging with new notifications, and he saw a few more familiar names that he didn’t have the chance to see the first time: Stelle, Hyacine… even Aglaea?

“Lady Cipher…” His voice trailed off weakly. He was suddenly at a loss for what to do. “What is the meaning of this?”

Cipher’s attention was split between him and sending her own messages in the — the Phaidei groupchat. “Hm?” She hummed, finishing off a message. He watched as his teleslate got a notification from her at the same time. She laughed. “Like I said, mutually beneficial agreement!”

Before he could stop her, she ran away. His surroundings returned to a quiet tranquility, as if she was never there and as if she hadn’t flipped his world upside down.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for Mydei to regain his senses and for him to finally face the truth. He slowly turned on his teleslate, navigating to the most recent group chat that he was added to.

It was a shame that he couldn’t see the previous chat history. He could only see the messages from when Cipher added him to the chat. Before reading through it, he navigated to the settings and noted who was in it: Stelle, Dan Heng, Aglaea, Castorice, Hyacine, Phainon… and even Anaxa? Then, of course, A Little Kitty.

Mydei exited and returned to the chat, scrolling up a few lines to see how Cipher explained his appearance. His eyes accidentally caught the chat description at the top, and his mouth twitched. Lady Tribbie must have written it, that much was obvious. The question, as with a lot of things, was why?

OPERATION PHAIDEI

Go for it, Snowy!!

[Cipher] added [A Little Kitty] to the chat.

Castorice: Lord Cipher…?

Cipher: Chill out Princess Homebody! Just adding my alt account~

Stelle: Why do u need an alt account

Cipher: Don’t worry about it~

Hyacine: Oh!

Hyacine: Can I add Little Ica to the chat?

Stelle: What

Stelle: Little Ica can read ???

Stelle: Little Ica has their own teleslate??????

Hyacine: ?

Hyacine: Of course!
Stelle: What can Little Ica not do

Cipher: Stop eati

[Aglaea] kicked [Cipher] out of the group chat.

[Cipher] added [Cipher] to the group chat.

Stelle: ??? How

Cipher: Shhhhhhhhhh

[Hyacine] added [Little Ica] to the group chat.

Little Ica: Hungry

Surprised, Mydei let out a small chuckle. That was the latest message, before everyone seemed to go inactive. Helplessly, he found himself trying to scroll back even further, but was met with nothing. He switched back to the chat settings, staring at the list of members once again.

His gaze lingered on Phainon’s icon. A memory rushed back to him — By Kephale, his abs are divine — and he felt a heat rush to his cheeks once more. He growled, shaking his head furiously in an effort to dispel it.

He sighed. The group chat wasn’t answering any of his questions. Not yet, anyways. He also wasn’t keen on sending a message of his own, either. He figured he would just… lurk, and see what Phainon and the others were up to.

The request seemed innocent enough.

Hyacine had asked him and the Deliverer to take care of the chimeras in the Garden of Life for some time. Mydei had easily agreed; Hyacine was a dear friend and it wasn’t hard to notice that her various duties were starting to weigh on her. He didn’t mind helping her ease some of the burden.

What tipped him off, however, was when Phainon started furiously texting on his teleslate. Even more damningly, Mydei felt his buzz in his pockets at the same time.

Phainon was too absorbed in his teleslate to notice Mydei pull out his own and discreetly turn off the notifications. Mydei pocketed it, then stood in place and stared at the Deliverer patiently until Phainon remembered himself.

“Ah!” He chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry about that, Mydei. Just needed to check up on someone.” Mydei raised an eyebrow. A lot of someones, surely. Phainon plastered an easygoing grin on his face, moving ahead of him.

“Let’s go, Mydei!” Phainon said. “We can’t keep the poor chimeras waiting!”

As Phainon led the way, Mydei pulled out his teleslate and glanced quickly at the chat.

OPERATION PHAIDEI

Go for it, Snowy!!

10/20 | Lucid Hour, 2nd Quint

Phainon: Hyacine, you didn’t tell me that I’d be working with Mydei?

Phainon: Not that I mind, of course
Hyacine: Yes, Lord Phainon!

Hyacine: This is Professor Anaxa and I’s attempt [smile]

“Mydei?” A voice called out ahead. Mydei pocketed his teleslate naturally; he wasn’t awkward and cagey like the Deliverer. Indeed, Phainon looked at him quizzically, but not suspiciously. “You coming?”

“Of course,” left his lips naturally before he could think twice. There weren’t many places that Mydei wouldn’t follow Phainon to.

They spent nearly the whole afternoon supervising the working chimeras. It wasn’t a troublesome task in the first place, so Mydei allowed himself to relax a little. A chimera who was on break sidled up near his feet shyly. Mydei bent down to give it a few pets, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

What did Hyacine mean by attempt? The answer came to him easily. It didn’t take a scholar from the Grove to figure it out.

The group chat, Stelle’s scheming, Phainon’s skittish behaviour, and now Hyacine’s request…

Were they actively trying to get him and Phainon together?

He felt incredibly mixed. On one hand, nothing they ever did crossed any boundaries, and he couldn’t deny that he was glad to be spending time with Phainon. However, being left out of the loop and schemed against his knowledge left a bad taste in the back of his mouth, as if he was the butt of some great joke.

Before he could wallow any further, the soft sound of a photostone shuttering on and off caught his attention. He turned towards the culprit.

Phainon laughed sheepishly, before saying honestly: “You looked cute, Mydei!”

Helplessly, Mydei felt a heat rush to his cheeks. He growled. “Knock it off, Deliverer.”

Phainon pocketed his teleslate, keeping his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Come now, Mydei. We still have a job to do together.”

Mydei sighed, but he didn’t stop himself from falling into step with Phainon.

By now, Mydei was gaining a better understanding of what was going on. Regardless, the answer was given by Castorice, once again. It was fitting, in a cyclical way. She had unknowingly set off a mess of confusion in Mydei, and she was also the one who ended it.

He received a message from her.

Castorice

Writing as we speak

10/24 | Lucid Hour, 4th Quint

Castorice: Hello, Lord Mydei

Castorice: I need your assistance

Mydei: What’s wrong, Castorice?

Castorice: Lord Phainon seems to be feeling unwell

Castorice: Unfortunately, I can’t help him right now

Castorice: I was wondering… would you mind checking in on him?

A thought appeared in his mind, and he couldn’t help himself from typing a reply.

Mydei: What makes you think I’ll say yes?

Castorice stopped texting for a moment. When she did, her message came even more quickly than it did before:

Castorice: Although you and Lord Phainon fight and compete very often

Castorice: I have a feeling that… you two are very close, aren’t you?

Castorice: I am sure that he would appreciate your company the most, Lord Mydei.

He could feel her kind intentions through the cold screen. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The group chat wasn’t a joke made to poke fun at either him or Phainon. The challenges, the attempts at getting them together — they weren’t just the latest source of entertainment for the Heirs, either.

No, they were simply looking out for their friends, and doing what they thought was best for Mydei and Phainon.

Memories rushed back to him. Stelle, tying him and Phainon together. Hyacine, asking the two of them to spend some time caring for the chimeras. Cipher, who had phrased it as a “mutually beneficial agreement”, but still seemed more excited than usual. Maybe even further back, with Tribbie arranging their accommodations at that inn for the night — in hindsight, they usually never messed up like that.

And now Castorice, who reminded him of something that he had forgotten in the hysteria that was the past month:

At the end of the day, Phainon cared for Mydei, and Mydei cared for him. It was as simple as that, really.

He sighed, but the breath he let out felt more like a relieved exhale than anything else. The confusion that had been wallowing inside him for the past month seemed to finally ebb away, and he felt more settled than he had been in a while.

He replied.

Mydei: Alright.

He didn’t need to ask her where the Deliverer was. If he was sick, then he was probably still lying around in his own quarters. Sure enough, after knocking on his door and hearing a raspy voice beckon him inside, Mydei saw him.

It was rare to see Phainon so defenseless. He was lying deliriously on his kline, wearing a light toga instead of his usual getup. Mydei walked over to him, flicking him gently on the forehead. At that, Phainon’s eyes opened, finally realizing who was before him.

“Mydei!” Phainon made a move to get up. Mydei only pushed him down.

“Rest, Deliverer,” was all he said. “I’ll be here.”

Phainon blinked lazily at him, taking a moment to process his words before nodding obediently.

As Mydei dunked a cloth in cold water, he pondered to himself. What should he do? Should he say anything? He wrung the excess water from the cloth.

Regardless, he couldn’t say yes. They both held far too many responsibilities to indulge in each other. In the end, Mydei would just have to be content with the promise of a sword in his back.

He should really say something, though. Warn off the Deliverer, or at least make sure that Phainon understood why they couldn’t get together. But as Mydei placed the cloth on Phainon’s warm forehead, his actions more gentle than usual, he paused. Underneath him, Phainon’s brows were furrowed, his head wriggling uncomfortably.

Mydei let out a sigh. Another time, then.

Contrary to his own convictions, Mydei ended up saying nothing. He convinced himself that there was no need to; life in Okhema and with Phainon was as peaceful as it had always been, so why shatter the status quo?

It seemed that nothing would change anymore. Most of the Heirs had tried their hand in the challenge, yet Mydei and Phainon were still in the same spot that they had been before it.

Except, not truly. Now that Mydei was aware, he developed a horrible habit of lurking in the group chat silently. The Heirs (and the Trailblazers) wouldn’t just use the chat to push their Phaidei agenda. Most of the time, actually, they had their own interesting conversations that made Mydei chuckle.

Perhaps he got too invested in it. Perhaps Zagreus (or Cipher, now that Zagreus was dead) had cursed Mydei with a bout of confusion, because nothing else could explain his lapse in judgement and his slip of the tongue.

He had been sparring against Phainon. It had been a while since the two of them had done so, yet the dance was just as familiar as ever. Mydei lost himself in the movement of it; letting himself indulge in the feel of Phainon near him and even finding himself going a little easy in order to prolong their deadly waltz.

Eventually, Phainon revealed a flaw that was too obvious for Mydei to ignore. Mydei went for it, kneeing him in the stomach and sending the Deliverer across the training grounds. Mydei gave him a few moments to compose himself before stalking over to him, peering down at his crumpled form curiously.

“Ow!” Phainon dragged out the syllable, whining obviously. Mydei rolled his eyes. “That hurt!”

“You’re fine,” Mydei said, helping him up. Phainon pouted, taking a couple of rough breaths as he stood up and started brushing off the dirt on his clothes. “You couldn’t have gone easier on that last hit, Mydei?”

Mydei scoffed. He wasn’t thinking as he said, “Maybe if you had blocked better, Phaidei —” He cut himself off. A silence ensued as horror dawned on him and the reality of what he accidentally said started to sink in.

Oh, Nikador, I’ve done it now. 

Before him, Phainon was equally frozen. His eyes were wide, panicked. Mydei willed himself to look normal and unbothered.

“Mydei…?” Phainon’s voice wavered slightly. “What did you just say?”

“Phainon,” Mydei said immediately. Too quick — he winced internally. Phainon was already puffing out in disbelief. “No, no! You said something else — what did you say, Mydei?”

Mydei pursed his lips. He crossed his arms, glancing away in one last act of avoidance. Eventually, he gave in, uttering softly: “I said… Phaidei, by accident. I meant to say your name, Deliverer.”

Damn it, why didn’t he just call him ‘Deliverer’ in the first place? It was too late to regret it; Phainon was already connecting the dots. After all, Phainon was never dumb, not truly. Mydei waited as the pieces started connecting.

He sighed silently. There was no running from it now, was there?

Phainon opened his mouth, “Will you answer my questions truthfully, Mydei?”

Mydei nodded. It was the least he could do, after essentially hiding from Phainon for nearly a month now. Phainon looked relieved, but not surprised. He questioned him further, “Where did you hear that from?”

Mydei took longer to respond, this time. “The group chat,” was all he said. Phainon didn’t look surprised, but he did look incredibly embarrassed. Before Mydei could say more, Phainon seemed to think of something.

Mydei watched Phainon pull out his teleslate. Before he could react, Phainon had already sent three messages in a row, and Mydei’s own device buzzed in time with it. Phainon heard the sound, then asked him straightforwardly, “Are you the alternate account that Cipher added over a week ago?”

Mydei nodded. Phainon groaned, dragging his hand over his face. Mydei heard both of their teleslates ping with more notifications, so he took the initiative to turn them off for the moment. There was a more important conversation to be had.

Mydei opened his mouth to say more. And yet, nothing came out. He was at a loss for words.

Phainon looked incredibly conflicted. Mydei could tell he was incredibly embarrassed, the reds in his cheeks had gone all the way down to his neck, too. Beneath the obvious mortification, Phainon started to look more and more guarded by the second.

Mydei didn’t know how to stop it. Phainon asked him, “Why didn’t you say anything, Mydei?”

Mydei gulped. The sound was glaringly loud in his own ears amidst the noise of his heartbeat beating loudly.

Regardless, he had an answer ready for the Deliverer of Amphoreus, the one who was set to save the world. “This can’t happen, Phainon.”

The words rang out more softly than he intended them to. By now, the mortification on Phainon’s face was all gone, replaced with a cold look in his eyes and a firm set in his brows. But even if Phainon was raising his walls, Mydei could still read him as clear as day — there was heartbreak in the Deliverer’s eyes. Mydei pretended not to see it.

This was the best route for the both of them, no?

Phainon clenched his fists. “Is that so?” His voice was frosty. Mydei didn’t trust himself to speak, so he only nodded.

Mydei couldn’t stand to look at Phainon so defeated and bruised, so he turned away. Ironically, it was that action that seemed to finally break Phainon out of his stupor.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here,” Phainon’s voice rang out from behind him. Mydei stopped walking, hesitating. There was less of an edge to Phainon’s voice now, as if he realized something new. “Mydei. Mydei, come back.”

Who was he to deny him? Mydei turned towards Phainon, of Aedes Elysiae. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they met for the first time, facing off against each other as equals just like this. This time, there was a kindness in Phainon’s eyes that wasn’t there before, staring at Mydei knowingly.

“You know…” Phainon smiled wryly. “Sometimes I think that you secretly strive for Kephale’s Coreflame, with how much pressure you decide to bear upon your back.”

Mydei furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, Deliverer?”

Phainon moved closer. “The Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos… the Leader of the Kremnoan detachment… and now a Chrysos Heir of the prophecy, set to inherit one of the Gods’ divine authorities… Indeed, you have many responsibilities to bear.”

Mydei didn’t know where he was going with this. He answered cautiously, “It isn’t a burden.”

Phainon didn’t choose to provide him with an answer. He took another step forward towards him; Mydei stayed still. “Your people look up to you to guide their way. Aglaea, as well as the rest of the Chrysos Heirs, depend on you to hold the front lines against the strongest of Titankin. All this and more, you do dutifully, with hardly a complaint.”

Phainon continued, the space between them getting ever smaller. “Even more than that; you’ve told me stories of your past, Mydei. How you were fighting for your life in the Sea of Souls since you were a child, fighting every day until you fulfilled your filial duty to avenge Queen Gorgo…”

Mydei growled at the mention of his late mother. “What are you trying to say here, Deliverer?”

“Nothing,” Phainon answered breezily. There was a gentle look in his eyes as he said, “Just that… when was the last time you reached for something for yourself, Mydei?”

Mydei paused. Phainon took that gap in his attention to fully breach his personal space. Mydei would’ve flinched back at the sudden action, but Phainon only gently tucked away a piece of Mydei’s hair behind his ear. The action was so tender that it only made his breath hitch.

“I’m not blind, Mydei,” Phainon whispered into that delicate distance between them. Mydei couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from him, not like this. “Nor am I a fool. Tell me truly: what’s stopping you from having this?”

Mydei lost himself in Phainon’s eyes for a moment, before he forcibly shook his head. “Phainon,” he addressed him. This close, he could see how Phainon’s eyes dilated from the use of his name. Mydei ignored it. Instead, he continued gently, “Phainon. Time is running out for the Flame-Chase journey. We just can’t. Maybe… maybe in the next life.”

Phainon pursed his lips. He only whispered, “Why not this one?”

Mydei allowed himself one final indulgence: he softly thunked his own forehead against Phainon’s, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Then, the moment was over, and he turned around and started walking away again.

Except this time, he couldn’t take more than a few steps before he felt something tug against his wrist. “What—?”

Around his wrist was a familiar metal, made of blues and silvers, and its other end connected to Phainon once more. “Phainon, you —!” He growled in outrage.

Phainon only looked smug. He raised an eyebrow at him, mimicking disappointment. “I wouldn’t have had to do this if you didn’t keep running away, Mydeimos.”

“I am not running away,” Mydei grumbled. Regardless, he let himself be dragged back to the Deliverer’s side. Phainon gripped onto the chains tightly to make sure he wouldn’t move away again.

“Mydei, I’m serious,” he said, dropping all the acts. Mydei scowled in response. “So am I, Deliverer.”

Phainon shook his head. “No, you’re not listening to me.” Mydei opened his mouth, but Phainon only pressed him further, “Listen. Please.”

Mydei obediently pursed his lips shut. Phainon let out a small sigh of relief, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. When the silence went on for far too long, Mydei broke it, “Phainon…?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Phainon said. “It’s just that… I’m thinking. How can I convince the most reliable and strongest man I know to give us a shot?”

Mydei stayed silent. He knew that Phainon had a habit of musing his thoughts out loud, so he let him continue. “It’s true; you and I bear many responsibilities. We are both liable for the safety of the city, and every move we make is to further the agenda of the Flame-Chase journey and to reach a miracle that we may not even see with our own eyes.”

Phainon’s voice grew more confident. “... You are, without a doubt, the most selfless man I know. You have been constantly giving, and giving, Mydei, for your people and for those that need your protection. For the Kremnoan detachment, you’ve sacrificed both your childhood and your dignity. For the Chrysos Heirs and the Miracle of Genesis, you’ve had to sacrifice your home and your future.”

“Mydei…” Phainon trailed off, staring at him desperately. “Will you sacrifice us, too?”

For some reason, that resonated with him. There was a part of Mydei that suddenly hungered for more; there always had been. It was reaching out desperately, clawing its way towards that golden radiance with a newfound fervour. He spoke, but his voice came out hoarse, “I…”

“You’re not alone, Mydei,” Phainon assured. There wasn’t a single trace of doubt in his tone. “You’re not Kephale; you don’t need to carry the weight of the world on your back. In this lifetime, you have me, you have the Chrysos Heirs, the Kremnoans, the Okhemans… even the Trailblazers. Era Nova was never meant to be the mission of just one.”

“So…” Phainon smiled at him. Mydei never wanted to look away. “Why not make the most of this life together? What do you say?”

What else was he supposed to say, in the face of unwavering love and devotion such as this? “Alright,” Mydei said. “Alright, Phainon, you win.”

“Deliverer. I had a question.”

“Hm? Who’s that?”

“.... Phainon, I have a question.”

“Don’t you mean Phaidei?”

“Deliverer.”

“Haha! What’s up?”

“... Why is it called Phaidei? Why is your name first?”

“Ah, that. Everyone just agreed that my name had to be first.”

“...”

“Really! You should trust me more, Mydei!”