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Part 7 of bound by the stars
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2025-11-08
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scarred in the hues of gold

Summary:

Phainon's expression doesn't change, still blank and almost as if he's looking through Mydei. He doesn't like it.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kicking at his thigh lightly.

Phainon hums, gaze still thousands of years away before it refocuses sharply on Mydei. "When am I not?" He asks, lips tilting in what's shaping up to be a smirk.

"Do you want me to answer that?" Mydei asks drily, crossing his arms.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

This new location they are confined in is… unearthly.

Pretty, sure. Pinks, purples, greens, blues. Water glistening in the light, plants thriving across the stone pavement, stars gleaming down onto them as they roam aimlessly.

Personally, Mydei doesn't find it very appealing. It's too soft. None of the Kremnoan sharp gold or advanced technology. The structure may resemble that of Marmoreal Palace, but it's an obvious attempt at mimicry. A memory locked into position, traces of someone's ideals hiding in the crevices.

It's the people who serve to create an environment he can willingly partake in. He isn't sure how it works, and he isn't very keen on finding out. He doesn't know if it's permanent, or if they are simply biding their time until someone outside of Amphoreus ever figures out how to take their strings of code and turn them into real people. Like that myth in one of the cycles, of Kephale molding humans from Georios' soil. Mydei doesn't particularly care for it at this moment.

People come and go, too many of them to fit inside these small corridors and terraces at once. The Chrysos Heirs are the only constant. The mortals filter in and out, and something at the back of his head refuses to ponder longer on where they go when they aren't here. Because he knows they aren't. He once recalled a question he wanted to ask his mother too late, and he searched every corner for his parents, just to find nothing. Anaxa and Castorice's siblings seem to disappear every now and then as well, he passively noticed. But if the scholar has no opinion on the matter, then why should he?

Caelus appears whenever he has time, the only one with any idea of what's happening, but no one wants to be the first to ask.

Time flows oddly. The days don't pass, not exactly. They just drift through time, catching up and getting to know each other. The discussions with the Imperator are never-ending, for one. He is confident he would have had a fair chance against her if they were alive at the same time, the alliance between Kremnos and Okhema not yet established. Her conviction and intelligence are formidable qualities, but hubris has fallen mightier individuals.

Mydei sets off on a walk with a person in mind rather than a physical destination, and watches as Hyselins sits in the shallow water, uncaring of how her clothes must be sticking to her skin. Cerydra stands above her, gaze fierce as she regards her with another spiel. If he wasn't already impressed by the siren's fighting prowess, she would've garnered his respect with the way she handles the Imperator's moods and quirks with such grace alone.

Castorice stands near the bushes at the archway, admiring the small butterflies flickering among the leaves. Cipher's arm is slung over her shoulder, chin propped up on the other one, and her leg fitted close to Castorice's as she points at another insect. She's been doing that a lot lately. Hanging all over Castorice, adorning her with the smallest of touches and quick hugs. Running away like a skittish cat whenever someone points it out, only to return and do the same all over again. Castorice is timid with the affection, but Mydei can see the way she's more at ease, leaning into the touch like a flower searching for sunlight. He's happy for her. Her curse was the worst of all of them. She's incredibly strong for enduring it without a complaint for centuries.

Mydei steps into another open space and huffs when he notices Anaxa rubbing his forehead with resignation as Aglaea converses with his sister, one hand raised to cover her lips as she chuckles. There is no Hyacine in sight, but little Ica floats around the Tribios triplets as Trianne attempts to catch him, so she must be nearby.

Almost everyone is accounted for. All but one. Of course the one person Mydei is searching for would not be here. When has Phainon ever made things easy for him?

It's always some sort of back-and-forth, always a duty standing between, always an excuse of a competition to be childish with each other, always a grin with cracks splintering the perfect image that no one else quite seems to notice. Mydei doesn't mind all those small annoyances and imperfections.

On the contrary, he appreciates them all the more. It's laughable how much he enjoys the way Phainon gets under his skin, how endearing he finds the excitement when he gets one over Mydei, how much he appreciates being able to see through the facade.

Mydei is so taken with his thoughts and scanning the corners in hopes of finding Phainon hiding away in his lonesome—or perhaps caught by an admirer, or maybe spending time with his family—that he doesn't notice someone running in his direction until they bounce off of him. The collision occurs with his legs, in fact. He halts and gazes down in puzzlement to see a small boy sprawled out on the ground, looking up in something halfway terrified.

"Are you alright?" Mydei asks, crouching low but hesitant to reach out. Kids who hadn't been raised in Kremnos tend to find him scary for whatever reason. Perhaps the stigma being passed down by their parents. Everything is peaceful in this haven of theirs, but some things won't be so easy to change as if with a snap of fingers.

The boy blinks at him owlishly, mouth agape. "Ye-yes," he eventually gets out. "I'm sorry! It's— I wasn't looking where I was going and, and I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Mydei reassures him softly, taking care to keep himself still and small. The child's dark hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head vigorously, and Mydei realizes he's seen him around before. "You ha—"

"Piso!" Someone calls, and Mydei watches as a girl approaches them quickly. She's got brown hair that's tied in a ponytail and messy bangs falling over her forehead. She's sporting a scowl that only dissipates when she notices Mydei. Her eyes widen as well, and she rounds on the boy, Piso, with newfound anger. "What are you doing in front of Lord Mydeimos like this? Get up already!"

"I was just apologizing for walking into him, give me a break!" Piso responds in the same tone, not moving to actually get up or even really turn to her. His face is slowly but surely turning red.

The girl squints at him and crosses her arms. "Don't tell me this is like with Phainon, where you suddenly get all shy." He points at Mydei with a finger, having yet to actually address him. "He is nice! Can't you be normal for once?"

Mydei feels out of his depth. He's seen these children around before, but they never interacted. Mydei didn't want to intrude on the little group of villagers hailing from Aedes Elysiae. He's only ever really spoken to Phainon's parents whenever they crossed paths. A word or two, or a story to exchange, perhaps a recipe.

He glances between the two kids who look up to Phainon as if he were Kephale in flesh, despite Caelus' own involvement as the Chrysos Heir of Worldbearing. He tries again, "It's my f—"

"Shut up, Livia!" The boy hisses, twisting around to glare at his friend. Mydei sighs. "He's the Guardian of Amphoreus!"

"Duh," she rolls her eyes with so much judgment that only a ten-year-old would've been capable of. "And he is Phainon's—"

"Haven't you two had enough excitement for today?" A kind voice that Mydei has grown somewhat familiar with appears next to him, interrupting whatever Livia's next word may have been. The woman follows in Mydei's lead and crouches down to be on the same eye level as the kids. "Piso, your father is looking for you."

"When isn't he?" Piso grumbles but does get up, sticking his tongue out at Livia in the process.

Audata chuckles at Mydei's side, swaying when she briefly loses her balance and bumping her shoulder against his. Mydei presses back just slightly to help her regain it, remaining steady to provide support should she need it.

"You are his only child," she says with a smile, hands folded on her knees. "He will always worry."

"I'm capable enough," Piso mutters under his breath, tacking on a 'hmph' at the end for good measure.

"You couldn't even remember my name for a month straight," Livia protests incredulously.

"You could save the world, and he would still fret about your well-being. It's a parent's responsibility," Audata says gently.

"And your father already worries too much. Come on. She's right, we are late," Livia says as he grabs Piso's wrist and yanks him closer. "See you later, Mrs Audata, Lord Mydeimos!"

She starts dragging him away in the direction she came from, Piso stumbling over his feet as she doesn't wait for him to get his bearings.

"Speaking of sneaky children. You're looking for him, aren't you?" Audata asks, humming to herself as they watch the two disappear around the corner.

With a small sigh, Mydei gets to his feet and offers his hand to help her. She accepts with a beaming smile, so similar to Phainon's. He pulls her up much more carefully than he would with her son.

"He used to run away when he was younger whenever worries ate away at him," she reveals, smile dimming somewhat. "From what I've learned, he still appears to isolate himself whenever things get too much."

Mydei thinks of finding Phainon deep into the Curtain-Fall Hour, desperately swinging his sword at invisible opponents. Of watching him sign up for solo missions outside of Okhema one after another without a word to anyone. Of Phainon, who spent thirty-three million lonely cycles, mostly without any companions, as he hacked away at the scepter with no sign of winning.

"I know," he replies quietly, glancing to the side at the nearby doorway.

He knows, because he found himself joining in on the stupid late-hour spars, and taunting Phainon until he started speaking and attached himself to Mydei's side like glue again. He was there to greet Phainon as he returned from the expeditions with a scathing remark each time. And from scant recollections, he knows he stood his ground to offer him one last battle in each and every lifetime.

"Of course you do," Audata laughs and pats him on the shoulder. "I suspect you know him better than his own mother by now."

The words spark something bittersweet in him, but Audata doesn't seem to mind herself. He doesn't say anything, at a loss for what possible response he could give. It's not right for parents as loving as Phainon's to be so detached from him due to circumstances.

"Well. I will leave you to it. I have no doubt my son will be cared for if it's you, Prince Mydeimos," she says with a sharp grin. Mydei goes to say something, anything, because this is getting out of hand, but she steamrolls right past it. "Queen Gorgo wished to have a word with me about ceremonies and such. I cannot keep her waiting, I'm sure you understand."

Mydei blinks after her as she leaves, not waiting for a response.

What…?

Ceremonies? What ceremonies?

Mydei spends an agonizing minute trying to parse through the possibilities of what Phainon's mother may have meant and then decides to give up. He's come to find it's better not to question his mother's plans. He's the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos—he knows how to pick his battles.

Putting the matter to the back of his head, he resumes his search.

He welcomes the wave of relief he feels when he catches sight of one Deliverer sitting at the very center of the large circular platform among the stars. His head is angled up in such a way that it's bound to ache sooner or later, if not already. His hands are stretched out behind him, supporting his weight.

He looks incredibly lonely, one man in the backdrop of the endless cosmos.

Mydei walks to him on quiet feet, taking care so that his garments don't clink together as he approaches. He leans forward once he's close enough, obstructing the view of the starry sky Phainon seems to have gotten lost in. His friend's expression doesn't change, still blank and almost as if he's looking through Mydei. He doesn't like it.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kicking at his thigh lightly.

Phainon hums, gaze still thousands of years away before it refocuses sharply on Mydei. "When am I not?" He asks, lips tilting in what's shaping up to be a smirk.

"Do you want me to answer that?" Mydei asks drily, crossing his arms and taking a step to the side so that Phainon won't have to crane his neck up to look at him. He winces as he straightens out, muscles no doubt sore. Mydei doesn't want to ask how long he's been sitting in the same position. "What's wrong?"

Phainon takes in a shuddering breath, slumping forward as one hand reaches up to tug harshly at the white strands. He stops in a few seconds, before Mydei can intervene in the unjust abuse of his hair. He shifts to sit cross-legged, and his eyes become clouded again.

Ah. It's their lifetimes, isn't it? All thirty-three million and then some merged into one.

Some of them took it better than the rest, even if the cycle Caelus first crashed into is the most prominent of all others. Mydei didn't have much of a problem with adjusting to the newfound memories. Perhaps it's the fact that there have been flashes of those disjointed pieces throughout all his lives, messing up his memories until someone pointed out the inaccuracies. It made him feel like he might have been trudging toward insanity with all the deaths he experienced. Permanent brain damage, he assumed.

His coding being bugged was not what he would have ever expected to be the answer.

Mydei lowers himself to the ground to sit right in front of him, their knees touching. He doesn't want to rush him. They have the rest of eternity to sort things out. It's one thing this stagnant existence they are locked into might be good for, if nothing else. And rest. All of them need rest.

It's no secret that Phainon has had it the worst out of everyone combined. Endless suffering with full knowledge of what's happening. No blissful ignorance to shelter him from the dire end hanging over their heads.

Mydei wishes he could help. Now, at least, if he couldn't throughout the cycles.

"The memories are hazy," Phainon eventually says in a monotonous tone, eyes fixated on his own hands. "Perhaps it's a blessing. They are like an echo, reverberating against my skull but too distorted to truly make sense of," he explains helplessly.

"Mn," Mydei hums in acknowledgment. He is rather familiar with the experience. He remembers being stranded at sea since his birth. And he remembers being raised under Eurypon's harsh rule before leaving with his friends. The line blurs until he isn't sure if, in one of the instances, someone fished him out of the sea or not, and an effort to recall only brings him a headache.

"And I know I killed all of you countless times before. Caelus didn't want to reveal much else to me, but I insisted on knowing everything he's seen in my past memories." Phainon's hand curls into a tight fist to the point of his knuckles becoming impossibly pale. He might pop the joints if he keeps at it; Hyacine will be sad if she finds out. "Do you know what the one constant in all these cycles of violence with me at the center was?"

Phainon raises his head, looking straight into Mydei's eyes, boring into him with the intensity of a blazing sun. In the face of his despair, Mydei feels strangely calm. He can guess where this is going. It also belongs in his memories, after all.

"In all of them, as the Chrysos Heirs lived and died of multiple causes, you are the sole person I have always killed," Phainon chokes on the words, taking in a shuddering breath. "Not one lifetime where I didn't take advantage of the weakness you entrusted me with. Titans, how cruel is that? What right do I have to sit here after bringing you all so much misery only to fail time and time again?"

There it is. That hatred that's allegedly embedded in his very core, directed at his own self for such ridiculous reasons. Only Phainon would see this as a failure, something to be ashamed of when all of them have always done everything in their power to preserve as well. Things both questionable and cruel, for reasons less important than desperately keeping their world afloat.

Mydei takes Phainon's hand into his and pries his fingers open. They go easily, revealing the crescent marks where his fingernails dug in. "Look around you," Mydei says gently, pressing his index finger against each mark on the palm, metal to skin. "Is this a failure to you? We exist, we can still converse with one another, and we might get to live organically one day. The universe stands. Without your efforts, the… Astral Express wouldn't have had anything left to save, Deliverer."

Mydei glances up to see if any of the words got through to him, only to find tears welling up in his eyes. Oh, that lovable fool.

"Mydei," Phainon calls hoarsely, as if it's Mydei who doesn't understand, fingers twitching pathetically against his. "I betrayed and killed you thirty-three million times. I think I burned your library to the ground, and yet you would welcome me to it with open arms. Why?" His voice cracks on the last word, and one tear finally makes its way down his cheek. "Why are you still here by my side?"

And where else would I be, is right at the tip of Mydei's tongue.

"Have you considered that, perhaps," Mydei responds instead, lightly flicking Phainon on the forehead, "Having you as the sole cause of my demise is an honor? It's the most noble and glorious death I could ever ask for, Phainon." He rests both his hands against the damp cheeks, carefully swiping his thumbs underneath the eyelids. Phainon's face is squished in his fingers, and he looks at him with those miserable blue eyes. Like a puppy that thinks it's just committed an unforgivable crime. "How could it not be, when you're the one I love?"

Phainon inhales sharply, eyes losing that horrible sadness as they widen in shock. Mydei wants to squeeze his cheeks. He doesn't, because that might injure him.

And then, he rounds back to the initial state of despair. "How can you love me when I—"

Mydei shoves his hand over Phainon's mouth immediately. "I never once regretted revealing my weak spot to you, and I never will. I would offer you countless of my scars and lives if it meant your burden was lessened," he says, and leans forward to bump their foreheads together. "We will just have to invest in some non-flammable materials for my library. Stop thinking so much or you're going to hurt yourself." More than you have already. "Just accept that you've done well, and that you deserve happiness."

It takes a moment for the words to be fully processed by Phainon's brain. The heartbreak slowly disappears from his features, much to Mydei's relief. This certainly won't be the last of it. But Mydei will gladly remind him of these things whenever he needs to.

Phainon presses his face forward until their noses brush against one another, and Mydei's lips touch the cold metal on the back of his own hand. He chuckles into it, amused by the sweet gesture. Not loving Phainon? A laughable notion.

He lowers his hand, and Phainon immediately tries to speak, "I lo—"

Mydei doesn't let him finish, now the one to surge forward and finally connect their lips. Phainon makes a noise that dies off sharply as he wastes no time running his tongue over Mydei's mouth, slipping it through when Mydei's lips part with scarcely a thought.

Phainon kisses hungrily, a stark contrast to the innocent action of kissing Mydei through a hand.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Mydei gets an impression they've done this before. In one cycle, or maybe a dozen, or a hundred. It's not very surprising; they fit together too well to have ended up like this for the first time. He's looking forward to relearning any and all details to do with Phainon's body outside of a fight.

Mydei breaks the kiss when Phainon's fingers somehow wind up in his hair, tugging on it with just the right amount of strength to make heat pool at Mydei's groin. They will revisit this at a later time.

Even if it's difficult to keep himself from diving back in and risking someone walking in on them when he sees the way Phainon's pupils are dilated just slightly, and notices that he breathes a bit more heavily. His hair is mussed, and there's a deep blush high on his cheekbones. Such a pretty sight; much prettier than the overly perfect blues and pinks surrounding them.

"I love you, too," Phainon says with a bright grin, one that finally reaches his eyes. Mydei refuses to acknowledge the way the stars around them seem to shine brighter. It's humiliating to think those words would've altered his perception of the environment like in those silly books. Instead, he focuses on the way Phainon's gaze appears so soft and relieved, even as his lips are red and puffy. "I'm in love with you. Throughout all cycles, since the very first one."

Mydei only smiles. It's all worth it. The pain, the lost opportunities, and the uncertainty. Just for this moment, he would have gone through it all again.

"Oh, right," Phainon suddenly says to himself, grabbing Mydei's right hand. "I was supposed to find you later and give you something. Might as well do it now."

Mydei follows with his eyes as Phainon's fingers detach the straps on his forearm and slip the gauntlet off, the action practiced enough through the lifetimes to be muscle memory. He gently sets the golden armor on the side and then digs in his pocket with one hand while the other still holds onto Mydei's palm.

"In the new world," Phainon begins, eyes cast down to watch as his own thumb runs across the knuckles of Mydei's hand. "In the true Era Nova, if it ever comes. Would you be willing to spend it together?"

It sounds an awful lot like a—

Phainon slips a ring onto his fourth finger. Not any ring either, the Signet of Kremnos. He thought he'd never see that thing again. It's far from the first time Phainon returns it to him, either. The action is a little bit more on the nose than usual, though.

"Shouldn't I get to say 'yes' before you put a ring on me?" Mydei asks halfheartedly with a huff.

"Well, the ring is unrelated to the question, of course," Phainon says cheekily with a shrug. "Caelus went through so much effort to bring it back, too. You just keep misplacing it, and I have to ask everyone around if they've got any clue on where to find it. Seriously, Mydei." He clicks his tongue at him in mocking disapproval.

"My fault," Mydei tells him flatly, shaking his head. Some part of him wants to test that theory, to see if Phainon would really find the ring in the most obscure of places just to bring it back to him.

His eyes travel down to the signet again. Traditionally, noble rings are worn on the pinky of the non-dominant hand. Phainon specifically slipped it onto his ring finger. The implications aren't even subtle anymore, not to mention the words accompanying their actions.

"Well," Phainon sighs performatively. He raises Mydei's hand up to his face and presses a kiss against the signet itself as he looks right at Mydei. "I suppose I will just have to keep a close watch on it so you don't lose it again."

It's a sentiment that would normally have Mydei rolling his eyes. But now, it's got him realizing they are saying these things on a regular basis around other people. Even before today, Phainon would have definitely made a quip like that.

People definitely realize what's going on. It's not such a stretch to assume their—

"I think our mothers are planning a wedding," Mydei says out loud, a bit faintly.

Phainon jolts upright, brows pitched high, and drops Mydei's hand in surprise. "A what now?"

Notes:

"what a nothing burger this turned out to be" was my first thought upon completing this lolol. i don't know, my head hurts and i have to get up in 5h. pray for me
but i've wanted to write phainon spiraling about killing mydei in each cycle for like. literal months. i'm not joking. and hsr finally gave me a setting for it, so i ran with it in a milder version than what i had in mind

anyway, here's to the blissful journey phaidei took all of us on throughout the last ten months or so. it's been delightful, i don't think i'll ever get as obsessed with another ship
this was a much needed break from writing coso, i'll try to get back to that on sunday ahhh. the next update will be delayed for sure orz
also writing this has felt like a bit of a fever dream so i'm unsure of the quality, i'll try to take another look tmrw evening and hopefully i won't die of shame aaa
[Edit: had to log in for a sec on my phone on the road, because i made a mistake in the summary itself. Kms as we speak]

agh, i hope you enjoyed this (surprisingly, given it's me) small thing!

i'm @kj_crwn on twt
Universe by David Kushner was looped on my spotify all throughout. i basically memorized the lyrics by now. please listen to it, it's very phaidei coded
i also threw in Every Ending Is a Chance by Claire Wyndham every now and then. pretty fitting to ampho's ending imo
if you're into that, here is a lovingly crafted over the last year phaidei playlist :'D

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