Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Coming to the Sea of Souls was a mistake. 

He was supposed to be going to Aedes Elysiae. And yet, he had unconsciously set up a portal here. He could only stare at the dark depths, wondering what had compelled him to come here. 

The tides were receding tonight. Rarely did they retreat. And when they did—

He saw it beneath the waters—breathing, living, surviving, fighting.

Mydeimos. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep—if the timeline was right. Had it been nine winters yet? Not much would change if he pulled him out now, no? Then surely, it would be alright if he just…

He could not bear to see him suffering more than necessary. How many lives had he lost at sea? The tides were receding tonight anyway… The child would crawl out of it anyway. He would just speed up the process and then leave for Aedes Elysiae. 

Yes, that’s all.

Golden boots sank into the waters, his cape trailing behind him. Mydei… It was hard to believe he was once so small. Years of malnourishment living in the sea had stunted his height. A lack of food had left the formidable warrior nothing but skin and bones. 

Tentacles surged toward the child, wrapping around his legs, his arms—everywhere. 

One slash would be enough. 

The sound of his blade alerted My—the child of his presence. A punch to his gut was only narrowly dodged. His style was unhoned. Undefined… And yet, hundreds of cycles of watching him fight had made him so predictable. 

Scruffing the child like a cat had been unintentional. But the boy had spent his entire life in the Sea of Souls—there was no way he’d learned language down there. Communication was unnecessary.

The child’s balance wavered when he set him down on land. Confusion shadowed his face as he took in the surroundings—the Sea of Souls, the place he had just escaped. The sky, the landscape around him, all so unfamiliar. 

He unclasped the black cloak from his shoulders, draping it over the child’s head. Something to keep him warm. He did not speak of what happened after he had escaped the Sea of Souls. Somewhere along the way, the boy had met his friends. Formed the Kremnoan Detachment. He had always survived. Every cycle. Without him. This time would be no different. 

My—no, the child—silently wrapped himself in the cloak, shivering. They locked eyes for a moment. Confusion. Gratitude. Hope. 

He simply turned away.

He had done what he had come here to do. There were things to do in Aedes Elysiae. Any later and Phainon and Cyrene might have already left for Castrum Kremnos… He needed to ensure Phainon walked the path of deliverance. 

He tore open the portal to Aedes Elysiae, and didn’t dare look back towards the child. 

The wheatfields greeted him as he stepped through the portal. Sword in hand, he gazed over the quiet wheatfields—lands he once called home, and would soon raze to the ground.

His childhood friends, what were their names again? He only remembered Cyrene, and his parents. Audata and Hieronymus. They had a dog that bore a name similar to his: Snowy. And that was all he could remember of Aedes Elysiae. 

Phainon and Cyrene were still here. Good. 

Something tugged at his pant leg. He flinched—snapped around, blade half-raised—

Mydeimos. 

Still wearing his cloak over his head. Still silent. Golden eyes peered up at him, questioning. Curious. Almost innocent. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

He should have left Mydei in the Sea of Souls. He knew that eventually, he would be capable of dragging himself out. And yet he had gone in and did it anyway. 

Now Mydei was here in Aedes Elysiae. Nowhere near Castrum Kremnos. Nowhere near the friends he should’ve met. The ones who would shape him. Ground him. The ones who would die by his side.

He’s fucked up the cycle. 

It’s fine, he told himself. In the end, all he needed was for Mydei to get the Coreflame of Strife. He couldn't do it himself, having failed the trials countless times. 

He could just return the boy to Castrum Kremnos. No, that wouldn't do. The Crown Prince was presumed dead after being thrown into the Sea of Souls. King Eurypon was sure to react horribly if he heard the child was still alive and kicking. Aside from that, where would the child live? 

Maybe later. When Mydei was older. Strong enough to kill his father. Then, perhaps, he’d return him to Castrum Kremnos.

But right now, he was in Aedes Elysiae, looking up at him as if he had hung the moon and stars, just as he was about to raze this quaint little village to the ground. 

“Close your eyes,” his rough voice told him quietly. His gauntlet-clad hand moved down the child’s face, trying to coax him into closing them. The boy obeyed at first, then peaked again—eyes confused, lips drawn into a soft scowl. He repeated the motion, but the child stared up at him once more with innocent golden eyes. 

He gave up after that. There was no point trying to communicate. 

The black tide crept in, and he struck. 

He only had one goal: Cyrene.

He remembered the pain of killing them all in his own cycle—his friends, his family, his teachers. Cyrene had stood by his side. But now, Cyrene mustn't exist, or else the sacrifice she made that allowed him to walk these cycles will be for naught. 

He didn't want Phainon to be the one to kill her. So he shall do this for his other self. 

Phainon looked up at him in anger and shock as his beloved Cyrene was killed in front of him. The monsters of the black tide creep in before Phainon could turn his wooden sword—once made to play pretend—toward him. 

He was eleven when it happened.

Aedes Elysiae was in flames when he returned to the child’s side. The boy he had saved now sat with a front row seat to ruin. 

The look in his eyes toward him was no longer worship and trust. Those golden eyes had narrowed. Anger. Confusion. 

He had saved a boy only to kill a girl a few years older and raze a village to ashes a few moments apart. 

They watched in silence as the small, nameless village on the map ceased to be. 

There were screams of pain. Distorted voices. Screams echoed. Voices warped and twisted as the black tide took them. The boy looked at him, eyes almost begging for him to save them as he had saved him. 

He continued to watch the village burn. Not a single glance toward the child. 

It was only after the screams died down and Phainon emerged with a resolve to become the Deliverer of this cycle did he move. “Let's go,” he told the child. It was not a question. 

Hesitantly, begrudgingly, the child held onto his hand and they walked through his portal. He knew it was only because the boy had no other choice. 

He wasn’t even sure where the portal had taken them. It was somewhere quiet, at least. Away from Aedes Elysiae and Castrum Kremnos. 

He heard rushing water nearby. Good—maybe the boy was hungry. He could catch some fish.

…Does the boy even know his own name? 

“Mydei…mos,” he addressed slowly. Recognition crossed the child’s face as he looked up at him. Then, suspicion. He didn't answer the child’s silent question. 

“Sit down,” he instructed, sitting beneath the tree. This time, in Kremnoan. The boy stared at him for a moment before copying him. “Sit down,” he repeated in Common. 

He stood up again, and the boy followed. They stared at each other for a moment. “Sit down,” he repeated in both languages. The child hesitantly sat down again. He rewarded him with a head pat.

They were getting somewhere. 

He took a step back. The child remained sitting. Once more, he stepped away. When he was sure the boy wasn't going to get up and follow him to the river beside them, he turned away.

He returned with a decently sized fish. Delight flickered in the boy’s eyes—then vanished, smothered by something colder. He couldn't blame him. 

He simply sat down beside the child. “Fish,” he taught. Again, first in Kremnoan, and once more in Common. 

“Fish?” the boy repeated. He nodded and rewarded the child with another head pat.

He taught the boy how to properly gut a fish—to carefully remove the bones. No words were said between them. Just the boy copying his actions. 

“Stick,” he said, holding up a mostly flat piece of wood. He waited for the boy to repeat before he found another. He pointed at it, looking at the child. 

“Stick?” the boy answered hesitantly. A head pat drowned out any lingering doubts. 

“One stick, two sticks,” he taught. Another stick was placed beside them. “Three.”

He taught the child… Mydei up to twenty. Math would be another day. He gently took his hands, guiding him through how to build a fire. “Rock. Leaves.” 

Mydei nodded. “Twelve rocks… fifteen leaves.” He stared for a moment. He hadn't asked the boy to do that. He rewarded him with a head pat anyway. Double for counting. 

Once the fire was lit, he began cooking the fish. Mydei sat next to him, pointing at the flames in question. “Fire,” he explained. 

A loud hiss diverted his attention. Mydei backed away from the fire, looking down at his injured hand.  He should’ve known the boy would try to touch. He sighed, assessing the burn on the child’s hand. It wasn't that bad—Mydei had a quick reaction time. He pressed the cold metal of his gauntlet to the burn. “The fire is hot.” 

It was hard to explain concepts to someone who didn't know the language, but he supposed if he kept talking, Mydei would pick it up. He pointed at the burn on the child’s hand. “Burn. The fire is hot. It gives heat. The heat is what makes it burn.” 

Mydei just stared at him in confusion. 

He waited for him to repeat it back.

“Fire, hot. Fire burn,” Mydei said slowly. 

Good enough. More head pats.

He returned to cooking the fish. Mydei gave him a questioning look. “Burn fish?” he asked. He shook his head. 

“Cook fish,” he corrected. Mydei only looked more confused, looking at the small burn on his hand and then the fish in the fire. 

He took it out of the fire. “On the outside,” he said, tapping the skin of the fish. “It burns,” he explained. He flipped to the inside meat. “On the inside, it cooks.” 

Mydei stared at him for a moment before nodding. He handed the child two fish—one cooked, one raw. “Cooked,” he said, pointing to the one that had been in the fire. “Raw.” He pointed to the fresh fish still skewered on the stick.. 

“Cooked fish, raw fish,” Mydei nodded. He gave the child more head pats.

He tilted up the bottom half of his mask, just enough to eat, and took a bite. “Eat.” He took another bite to show that the action was related to the word, not a thing. Mydei copied him. 

“Eat?” he asked, mouth full of fish. He nodded. Mydei looked up at him expectantly. Eventually, he relented and gave the child more head pats. 

Mydei helped him set up shelter for tonight, asking all sorts of silent questions about words. Mydei was far from speaking in full sentences—not that he expected him to. As long as they were able to communicate. 

Tomorrow should be foraging. He could make some clay tablets and teach Mydei how to read and write. 

…He shouldn't be getting attached. 

“Close your eyes,” he instructed as they laid down. Mydei’s eyes widened in recognition. It had been the words that he had said earlier. Soon, the golden eyes slipped closed. He gave a head pat in confirmation. 

“Go to sleep,” he said. A new sentence. A golden eye peeked open to see what he was doing. He mimicked sleeping, and Mydei closed his eyes again.

He watched over the boy, his black cloak acting as a blanket to keep him warm. Soon, soft snores filled the little tent they had made. 

A hand trailed down Mydei’s back, his touch a mere ghost. One, two, three… There. 

The tenth thoracic vertebra. Where he will stab this child sometime in the future. 

He replayed all the different Mydeimoses deaths over and over again. Every single one. Every single cycle of pain and anguish, killing the person he had loved. 

The child snuggled into his warmth, and his memories halted, lurching him into the present. 

…He was so small. 

It was just until Mydei was bigger, stronger. Then, he would leave the child to continue the cycle. A few months, maybe a year at most.  

The boy started thrashing in his sleep. Memories from his time in the Sea of Souls no doubt. 

The lullaby slipped from his lips faster than his brain could register. The soft hum of what his mother used to sing for him. His hand slipped from Mydei’s back to rest on his side, gently patting him. 

Shit. He was already attached. 

‘But there's still tenderness in your eyes. How pathetic.’

He had never truly stopped loving his Mydeimos, even after these countless cycles. The words of the 108 642nd Mydeimos taunted him. This child… Would only further cement that love.

And yet, he kept gently patting Mydei’s side, quietly humming his lullaby until the tension left the child’s shoulders. 

It had always hurt. Watching from afar as the Mydeimoses of the previous cycles fall in love with Phainon. Only in Cycle 0 had he and Mydeimos walked together. 

But now, he supposed, about three million cycles later, he would have the chance to walk with him again.

Just for a little while. 

When the dawn broke, he found Mydei had started up a fire again, cooking his fish. He stared at him for a moment.

He had replicated everything perfectly—after just one lesson.

He sat beside Mydei and gave him a head pat. The boy turned to him with a bright smile, proud of his own accomplishments. A fish skewer was handed to him, and he cautiously checked it. 

Not burnt. Good. The colour looked alright. Mydei was still staring at him expectantly. He shifted his mask and took a bite. 

…It was cooked to perfection, more so than he had cooked it last night. 

Then again, Mydei had always been a great cook… He really missed his cooking.

“It's good,” he said quietly, taking another bite. At Mydei’s confused look, he repeated the sentence and gave Mydei a head pat, trying to show that ‘good’ meant getting a head pat.

After a moment, he realised he should greet the child. “Good morning.” 

Mydei looked at him, confused. He didn't give an explanation on the meaning. He knew he would pick it up when he repeated it tomorrow. For now, the boy just mimicked his words. “Good morning.”

They ate their fish skewers together in silence. 

After breakfast, they walked into the nearby forest. He taught Mydei how to test for poisonous berries. “Berry,” he said, pointing at the various small, circular fruits. Then, he introduced colours. White, yellow, blue, red, purple. 

“Good,” he said, pointing to the colourful berries. “Bad.” Pointing to the white and yellow ones. Mydei nodded, immediately reaching to eat one of the colourful berries. He carefully took it away before the boy poisoned himself. 

He crushed one of the poisonous ones and rubbed it on his skin. Mydei copied him. “Wait.” The boy stared, puzzled, waiting for the explanation that never came.

Eventually, a burning sting bloomed across their skin. Mydei seemed to realise ‘wait’ meant do nothing. “Burns,” Mydei said, pointing at his arm, wincing slightly. He nodded. 

“Bad berries burn your arm. Don't eat.”

He knew the boy would survive—immortality had its uses—but pain was still pain. And if Mydei eventually formed the Kremnoan Detachment, he should avoid poisoning them. 

He showed Mydei to go for berries that didn't have a smell. The child had gotten confused, nearly biting into the ones that smelled like pear—sweet, fragrant, and deadly.

“Sweet smell. Bad,” he instructed, carefully taking away the berries. Mydei picked up the ones that had a musty smell. He shook his head. “Bad.” The child sniffed it before wrinkling his nose and putting it down. 

He picked up another one and sniffed it. Not sweet, or yucky. Mydei held it out for him. He nodded in response, giving the boy a head pat. “Good job.”

From here, the only way to test berries was to eat them. “This is a small berry. This is a big berry,” he explained, pointing at the different sizes. “Eat the small berry,” he instructed, voice low.

Mydei ate it, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Wait to see if it's good or bad.” He stood up from his crouching position and took Mydei back to their tent. 

The berry was poisonous, but a small amount wouldn't do any harm. The boy would feel a little sick, but it was the only way that he knew how to teach.

For the rest of the day, he taught Mydei how to read and write using some clay tablets he made last night while the boy was sleeping. Both Kremnoan and Amphoreus script. He held back on praises and head pats, not wanting to condition Mydei to crave recognition and praise. 

“Mydeimos.” The child perked up at the sound of his name. “Name. That's your name.” He nodded, and then pointed at him. 

“Name?” he asked.

“What is your name?” he corrected. 

“What your name?” Mydei echoed, tilting his head like a curious sparrow. He gently shook his head, correcting him once more. 

“What is your name?” 

“What… is your name?” 

He couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. When was the last time he had smiled? It has been… So long. 

“Khaslana,” he said softly. “My name is Khaslana.”

“My name is Mydeimos,” the boy introduced with a smile. 

On a separate clay tablet, he wrote both of their names and let Mydei copy it. His handwriting was wonky and his grip too tense, but he was proud of it all the same. 

The tablets, once dried, stayed in their little tent. 

“Bad,” Mydei murmured, clutching his stomach with a small frown. Ah, the berry must've taken effect by now. 

“Sick,” he explained, taking Mydei to the nearby river to vomit out the berry. 

Khaslana showed him how to throw up. Mydei wrinkled his nose at the murky water, glancing up at Khaslana with betrayal in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, gently patting the boy’s back.  “Better?” he asked. Though Mydei didn't understand the word, he could hear the concern in his tone, and nodded. “Now you know for next time—don’t eat that berry again.”

He sat Mydei by the water’s edge before wading in to fish. He knew that Mydei would be wary of open bodies of water due to his time in the Sea of Souls, so he'd be the one to fish for them. 

Mydei was eager to cook the fish. He watched carefully as the boy gutted and deboned the fish, just as they had before. He introduced salt, testing different amounts on the skewers so Mydei could learn what tastes best.

As always, Mydei cooked it to perfection. He watched in amusement as the boy took a bite of the over-salted skewer—only to cough and splutter.  Khaslana handed him some water as mercy.  “Salty. Too much salt,” he explained.

He pointed to the one with a moderate amount. “Try this one.” Mydei picked it up with narrowed eyes, still bitter about the berry incident. 

Still, he took a bite. And then another. And eventually devoured the whole thing. “Good?” Khaslana prompted. 

“Good,” Mydei confirmed, reaching up to give him a head pat. He stared at the boy in stunned silence, but Mydei had already turned back to eating, utterly nonchalant.

At Curtain Fall, they go back into the tent. Mydei played with Khaslana’s gauntlet-clad fingers, too restless to sleep just yet. The cool metal was soothing to the child, who typically ran quite warm. 

“Good night,” he told Mydei. “Go to sleep.” Mydei’s fingers stopped playing with his gauntlet, looking up at him. He only knew the second sentence, but he recognised that the first sentence was similar to what Khaslana had said to him after they woke up.

“Good night, Khas,” he murmured quietly. Golden eyes slipped close, but it was evident Mydei wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon. He tucked the cloak beneath the child’s chin, a hand touselling the blond hair to soothe him to sleep.

The same lullaby from the night before slipped past his lips, hesitant at first. Mydei relaxed more, a small smile on his face as the notes washed over him. Slowly, his voice grew steady, quietly humming the song that had once brought him comfort.

Mydei slept without nightmares that night. 

A few weeks had passed. Slowly but surely, Mydei was learning the language, as well as everything he needed for when they said goodbye. How to hunt animals, how to forage, how to clean himself and his clothes. He allowed Mydei to experiment with different foods and spices, and they’ve started a small garden near their tent. 

The sun and all the nutrition he was getting was doing the boy good. While he was still shorter than average, he wasn’t dangerously thin. The muscles that he had gained from fighting in the Sea of Souls were more defined, and the baby fat was coming back to his face. 

And eventually, Mydei had outgrown the clothes on his back. Which meant they had to go into society. 

The entire time he’s spent time with Mydei, he’s worn the Flame Reaver costume. And he’d rather not reveal what he looked like. Which meant he’d have to leave Mydei alone to buy his clothes. 

Alright, he could do this. Mydei could defend himself, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the boy getting kidnapped. All he had to do was ensure that Mydei knew how to buy things. 

“What are you doing?” Mydei asked. Khaslana was writing numbers on handmade paper, threading a string through a small hole. 

“Your clothes are getting too small. We need to buy new ones,” Khaslana explained. He supposed he could try making some, but they wouldn’t be as high quality. Mydei tilted his head.

“Buy?” he asked.

“You’ll see.” 

He explained credits, showed the different colored notes, and ran through simple addition problems.

“See this? This shows you how much you need to get it.” He points at the tag he made, attaching it to a rock. “1000 credits. Can you show me that?” Mydei shifted through the notes he was given before handing over the correct amount. Khaslana took the credits and gave Mydei the rock. “That’s buying.” 

He set up a mock stall for Mydei to practice. A few shiny rocks Mydei liked, fish skewers and the clay tablet that had their names on it. He’d given Mydei just enough credits for the rocks and skewers—but not the clay tablet. Just to see what he’d do.

Mydei had ignored the rocks in favour of the fish skewers. Good, he was prioritising needs over wants. He handed over the correct amount, and Khaslana gave him the fish skewers. He ate slowly, eyes lingering on the clay tablet.

He looked through the credits he had given him. He didn’t have enough. Hesitant, but clearly wanting. “How much?” he asked. 

“Twelve thousand,” he said. Mydei’s expression remained stoic, not showing his disappointment. 

“Why is it twelve?” the child asked with a tilt of his head. 

“It’s good-quality clay, you see. Came from far away. We pay the people who made it—and the ones who wrote on it too. That’s why it is twelve,” he explained, making up some random reason. Mydei stared at him, unconvinced. 

“How much did the clay cost?” Mydei questioned.

“Three thousand.”

“How much was the artist paid?” 

“Four thousand.”

“Then why isn’t it seven thousand?” 

“I paid them seven thousand, but in order to make money, I have to sell it for higher. Not to mention transportation of the clay tablet. That’s why it’s twelve thousand,” Khaslana explained slowly. Mydei nodded thoughtfully. 

“Eight thousand,” Mydei said firmly. 

Khaslana crossed his arms, an amused smile hidden beneath his mask. “Twelve thousand,” he said, keeping his tone even. 

Mydei narrowed his eyes. “Nine thousand.”

“Eleven thousand… Five hundred.” If Mydei was pissed, he was doing a good job of hiding it. 

“Nine thousand or I’m leaving,” Mydei huffed. 

“Ten thousand… and the two shiniest rocks,” Khaslana offered, carefully sliding them next to the clay tablet. They weren’t worth much, but Mydei liked them.

“...Deal.” 

Mydei pocketed the shiny stones, but his attention was fixed on the clay tablet. He traced over his old, wonky handwriting with a careful finger. Khaslana watched as he walked back to the tent, placing it exactly where it belonged.

Khaslana opened a portal to the nearest civilisation, stepping through with Mydei—then stopped. He didn’t go any further. Mydei paused in his steps when he realised Khaslana wasn’t coming. “Are you coming?” he asked. He shook his head in response. The boy stared for a moment before nodding. “Ok.” 

“Buy something nice. And make sure to speak in Common,” Khaslana said, slipping him a few extra credits. Mydei nodded, grateful. A small wave, then he disappeared into the town.

Khaslana sat beneath the tree, waiting in silence. He’d give him a few hours. Let him explore. Let him learn what it meant to be around people again.

Would he act differently, once he returned? Would he start to see the gaps in Khaslana’s guardianship—realise that it was never supposed to be permanent?

Maybe he’d begin asking questions. About Castrum Kremnos. About his real family.

Maybe he’d want to go back.

It hadn’t even been a full month. Just a few weeks, really. That was all. Khaslana had only meant to keep him safe, long enough to ensure that he’d live. Long enough to teach him how to be human. 

And he was confident—Mydei could survive on his own, if it came to that. He was quick to learn, quick to adapt. But still…

There were a few more things he wanted to teach him.

Mydei returned far quicker than Khaslana had anticipated—fresh clothes, a few small weapons in hand. But what the boy seemed most excited about was the fruit he clutched tightly.

A pomegranate.

Of course.

It had always been his favourite. In every cycle.

“Did you have fun?” Khaslana asked, opening the portal back home. The boy nodded, still toying with the fruit as they stepped through.

No questions about family. No mention of Castrum Kremnos. No wondering why other children had houses and he didn’t.

Just a simple, quiet: “Can you cut this for me, please?”

He took the fruit wordlessly, slicing it open and peeling back the pith until the seeds glistened like rubies beneath the skin.

“You eat the seeds and chew. You can spit them out if you want, but it’s healthier to swallow.”

Mydei nodded and sat by the river’s edge, popping a few seeds into his mouth with a look of pure contentment.

They sparred for the first time that evening.

Mydei had bought a lance, but didn’t use it. He still preferred hand-to-hand. It was what he knew—what he trusted.

Khaslana let him focus only on attacking for now. No counters, no pressure. Just space to find his rhythm. His wild, frantic punches—carved from desperation and survival—were slowly taking shape.

“You’re not in the Sea of Souls anymore,” he reminded. “You’re fighting intelligent creatures now. Don’t be predictable.”

He had only ever used his greatsword, but he knew how Mydei fought.

Little by little, that shapeless instinct began to crystallise. Still rough around the edges, but undeniably Mydei.

“That’s enough for today,” Khaslana said, catching Mydei’s next strike mid-air. The boy looked up at him in shock, then confusion. “Next time, I’ll fight back.”

“Can we go a little longer?” Mydei asked, before a growl interrupted him. A soft flush appeared on the boy’s cheeks, realising that through the adrenaline rush, he hadn’t realised his hunger. 

“Tomorrow,” he promised. 

After dinner, they lay in the tent.

Khaslana’s fingers trailed down Mydei’s back before pausing halfway. “What’s that?” the boy asked quietly. He hesitated, withdrawing his hand.

“That’s… your weak spot,” Khaslana said. “The only way to kill you. The tenth thoracic vertebra.”

Silence settled between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Mydei shifted, turning his back away from him. Good, Khaslana thought. Don’t trust me.

“…That day,” Mydei whispered, “Why did you kill her?”

Khaslana tensed. Cyrene.

He looked at the boy, who stared up at him—not with anger or fear, but quiet curiosity.

Not trust. Not suspicion. Just the need to understand.

“I had to,” he exhaled. “There are things I can’t explain… not because I don’t trust you. But because… I’m not allowed to.”

Mydei didn’t ask any more questions after that. Just closed his eyes and mumbled, “Good night, Khas.” 

“Good night,” he muttered back. 

Mydei had been growing more curious about himself as time passed. Where did he come from? Castrum Kremnos. What’s it like? A kingdom full of strong warriors, who value strength above all. Did Khaslana know his parents? Not really. 

He retold the story of Mydei’s birth. Of the prophecy that made his father go mad. Why Mydei was in the Sea of Souls in the first place. The boy had remained silent for the next few days, but never lashed out.

Still, he had been rather brutal to the training dummies Khaslana had made for him. 

He taught Mydei more about Kremnoan culture—or at least, what Khaslana knew of it. In Kremnoan, there were no words for love—not like in Common. Instead, fated ones were seen as equals. Partners, in every sense of the word. He recounted the tale of King Eurypon and Queen Gorgo; watched Mydei’s eyes sparkle when he heard the ending.

“I will find my equal, someone worthy of fighting alongside me,” Mydei had told him. Khaslana didn’t say anything. Just nodded, and swallowed the ache in his chest. Of course, that ‘someone’ was already written in the stars.

“You will, I’m sure of it. And perhaps you can entrust your weak spot to him, to make sure someone always has your back.”

If Khaslana had been in love with Mydei for 3 million cycles, then Phainon had fallen in love with Mydei for 3 million cycles without fail. 

Word had begun to spread—Kremnoan exiles, rallying for blood. For justice. For war. And Khaslana knew: it was time.

Steel clashed one final time. Mydei’s lance met his throat, and Khaslana dropped to the dirt beneath it. “Surrender,” he demanded. Khaslana slumped onto the ground, hands raised above his head.

The lance withdrew. Khaslana exhaled, sitting up with a quiet groan. He gave Mydei a head pat before getting up. “Honeycakes?” he asked, preparing some credits for Mydei to go shopping. He’s met with a nod of confirmation. 

The boy had matured these past few years. Though Khaslana had tried to give him the childhood he never had in the previous cycles, he couldn’t keep Mydei sheltered forever. The black tide constantly encroached on their campsites, pushing them on the move. And Khaslana had always pushed for Mydei to be independent, so it shouldn’t have surprised him how quickly the boy stopped needing him.

The bright-eyed boy who once chased head pats and pomegranates had faded. He’d seen Khaslana rip the Coreflame from a Chrysos Heir without hesitation. Since then, Mydei had become… quieter. Distant.

The only reason he still stayed was because Khaslana wanted him to. Because Khaslana was too selfish to be alone.

“Pack your things,” Khaslana said quietly during lunch. Mydei paused mid-chew, staring at him. 

“Is the black tide coming closer?” he asked. 

“Yes.” A lie. 

Khaslana had taken him to the last seen location of the Kremnoan exiles. Perdikkas, Leonnius, Ptolemey, Peucesta and Hephaestion. All of Mydei’s friends in the previous cycles. The boy would be fine with them. 

Mydei had noticed the absence of things on Khaslana as they had walked through the portal, yet kept silent. He was still young, he wouldn’t be killing Eurypon anytime soon if it followed the same timeline as the other cycles. 

“Khas…” Mydei said slowly, testing the shape of the silence between them.

He got no answer—just the faint rustle of leaves. Eventually, Khaslana shook his head.

“I thought you weren’t one for sentimentality?” The boy frowned but didn’t make a comment. 

“Will I see you again?” he asked instead. Khaslana thumbed the hilt of his sword, closing his eyes.

“...Yes.”

“You’ve taught me everything you could,” Mydei said. “But have I learnt enough?” 

“You can learn on your own how to be stronger.”

There were no hugs or tears. Instead, Mydei gave a stiff nod.

“Thank you.” Khaslana gave a nod in return. Nothing more.

He watched until the boy disappeared from view, then finally turned away.

“Mydei!” Phainon cheered, greeting the Kremnoan out on the battlefield. “How many kills did you get this time? I got fifty seven!” 

“Sixty two,” he replied, watching the Deliverer carefully. Something about him seemed different. His smile was too tight, forced. Posture slumped, as if burdened by some unforeseen future. And—most telling of all—he wasn’t touching him.

No arm slung around his shoulder.

Whoever this was—it wasn’t Phainon.

Their voice faded into static. All he could hear was that smile. That false, hollow smile. Mydei’s fingers twitched. Something about their demeanour was familiar, as if he had known this person before. 

“Mydei?” Phainon called, waving his hand up and down his face. He scowled, swatting the hand away.

“Quit it, HKS.” The words came out sharper than usual. Colder. And ‘Phainon’ realised it. The man froze. Flinched. A heartbeat later, his gaze dropped to the ground, blue eyes avoiding Mydei’s. 

Had the Deliverer’s eyes… always been that dim?

“What’s my favourite fruit?” he demanded, tone clipped and unrelenting ‘Phainon’ blinked.

“Pomegranate… why?” he answered with a tilt of his head. Mydei ignored him.  

“Favourite colour?”

“Pink?” 

“How did I escape the Sea of Souls?”

“Uh… Someone pulled you out.”

Mydei’s eyes narrowed.

Khaslana.  

“I crawled out. Remember, Deliverer?” he said slowly, watching the barely concealed panic appear in the imposter’s eyes. 

“Aha, I must’ve remembered wrong! History was always one of my weaknesses,” ‘Phainon’ smiled tightly. “After nine winters, you crawled out on your own as the tides receded.” 

“And afterward?” he prompted. 

“It seems to have slipped my mind…” 

“How… Convenient.” 

The two stared at each other for a moment. ‘Phainon’ cracked first.

“It’s good to see you, Mydeimos,” he said—quiet, detached, tired. That voice Mydei hadn’t heard in years. It was wrong, seeing that voice on his comrade’s face, but he had never known who Khaslana was under that mask, had he?

“Khas. Or should I call you Flame Reaver?” he greeted back calmly. The time had come, it seemed, for their final duel. Where finally, finally , Khaslana would go all out. 

“Names do not concern me,” Khaslana answered simply. Dawnmaker lay in his left hand, gripped tightly. “Every cycle ends like this. Dawnmaker, through your tenth thoracic vertebra. Your death, for Strife’s Coreflame.” 

“Then you must know I will do the same.”

Khaslana tried to smile. It didn't reach his eyes. 

“You knew it would come to this,” he accused. “And yet…”

“There is tenderness in my eyes. I'm aware.”

Silence enveloped them. 

Mydeimos closed his eyes, and a soft, near-laugh slipped from him. Bittersweet. Knowing.

Yes. He had seen it even in his childhood. Khaslana’s reluctance to love and be loved. And yet, that tenderness never left his voice. 

“Well then… it's time to show you what I've learnt, Khaslana .” 

“I look forward to your demonstration, Mydeimos. ”

The sound of metal against metal was familiar, but this time Khaslana wasn't holding back. Before him stood a version of Khaslana he had never seen—blazing, fractured, unrecognisable. A weapon wielding itself.

And yet, he almost faltered despite himself. Khaslana was… burning himself alive. To stop… Whatever it was from happening. 

Fine, if he wanted to burn, Mydei wouldn't let him do so without a fight. “I'll give ten thousand scars and ten thousand lives of mine to fuel the blazing sun of deliverance!”

“Heh, you have given so much more than that.” 

It was Mydeimos on the floor this time, panting as the nameless swordsman loomed over him, Dawnmaker through the Crown Prince’s chest. His guardian knelt beside him, cradling him in his arms one last time. 

Warm. Safe.

“Hah… Well fought, Khas. You may… crown yourself in my blood.”

His hand reached for Khaslana’s head, gently patting, just as he had done for Mydei so long ago. Golden eyes widened, returning to their usual blue. How pathetic, Mydei mused.   

“In the next life, I shall…once again block your path.” His hand slips from Khaslana’s head, resting by his side. “Khas… I wish you… eternal victory.”

His eyes slipped close, and on his dying breath, he heard it.

“ It was an honour to have raised you in this cycle, Mydeimos .”

Chapter Text

More tentacles tonight. Lots. His arms felt hot and tingly. More nothingness… So cold. 

Water… More shallow? He crept closer to the shore. No tentacles there. No more cold? 

Tentacles wrapped around his legs, pulling. Oh. They had followed him. He growled, twisting and turning as he fought. Must fight. Tonight wouldn’t be any more nothingness. Tonight wouldn’t be cold. He would make sure of it. 

Weird things in the water. They looked like him? They had legs. Not fins. Not tentacles. Legs. A two-legged creature. 

No, he needed to fight the tentacles. They were crawling all over him. Twisting. Turning. He couldn’t move..! 

A loud whoosh , and the tentacles stopped moving. The two-legged creature must have done that. If they were strong enough to kill the tentacles, then they’d surely..!

He didn’t want any more nothingness. It always felt so hot and tingly. And then cold, so cold as he sunk. 

Two-legs walked closer. He wasn’t going to let them! He goes for that little flat area above their legs. It always felt tingly and hot whenever he got hit there. So surely, it would be the same for the two-legs? 

Fight. He must fight. He didn’t want to see nothingness again.

He missed. How were they so fast?! He growled, but Two-legs grabbed him by the cloth on his back. He couldn’t fight like this, arms and legs flailing uselessly. 

And then suddenly: light.

So bright… His eyes were all tingly and watery. 

Two-legs placed him onto something flat and he froze as he felt his legs sink into it slightly. He wobbled slightly, unused to being outside of the water. Finally, he stopped squirming like deserted fish. 

He was… Out of the Sea of Souls? 

Everything was… Not wet. The thing he was standing on felt like tiny little specks stuck to his skin, yet huge at the same time. He decided that he did not like the texture at all. 

Around him were more of the weird dots on the ground. Weird shapes around them, and tall things that were reaching up toward something. That something was the big thing above him. He couldn’t see where it ended. But it was very pretty. He had only ever seen it beneath the cold water. 

It’s so… cold. How could it be so cold outside the water?

Something covered his head, but not his eyes. Soft… Not cold, but not hot. Somewhere in between. It’s… nice. It seemed to be the Two-legs’ cloth. He wrapped it around himself a little tighter. 

He looked up at the Two-legs. They looked like him, but bigger and scarier with no face. Or maybe there was a face, and the Two-legs was just hiding it. 

This Two-legs… They had helped him get out of the Sea of Souls. Where it was nice. Where there were things to explore. Where there were no tentacles and no nothingness and darkness and cold. 

Well, maybe just a bit of cold. 

He hoped they could see it on his face. That he was… floaty after being taken out. It was like… Light. He liked this. 

Maybe… he was safe?

Safe. There was no ‘safe’ in the Sea of Souls. It was cold, fight, hot, tingly, and then nothingness. And then everything again. But maybe here, out of the water, he was safe. 

The Two-legs turned away from him, and ripped a hole with some weapon out of nowhere. His heart raced. He didn’t know why, or what it meant. All he knew was that the creature that had given him safety was about to… 

He didn’t know what they were going to do. All he knew was that he needed to run . 

Bright light in his eyes. Owie. Why was it so bright? How could there be so much light out of the water?

He used his hand to cover some of the light, squinting. There were weird tentacle-like things swaying, the colour of sponge. But they didn’t seem alive. They didn’t wrap around and choke him. They just touched him. 

Where was he?

He tugged at the Two-legs’ pants, looking up at him. Where had the creature taken him? Was this also somewhere safe? 

It felt nice here. Like… Floating in the waters once there were no more tentacles around. The feeling once he’s eaten a lot of fish. 

The Two-legs raised their weapon at him, but flinched. That’s not good. A flinch would be a vital mistake in the Sea of Souls. He looked up at him, wondering why the creature had hesitated. 

The weapon lowered. 

The creature’s shoulders went lower. They looked like when he had gotten stabbed by one of the tentacles, though he couldn’t see their face. Were they hot and tingly like he was before? Was this place… not safe after all?

Surely, though, the creature would keep him safe. They had been so strong, slashing the tentacles in one strike. He would be safe around them. He knew it.

He clutched the cloth on his head a little tighter. He liked feeling safe. 

“ Close your eyes .” Oh! Two-legs could make noises. They didn’t sound like the beings beneath the water. They sounded deep and almost like… Fish scales. Very nice and flowy, like water. Though, he couldn’t understand what the noises meant. 

Their weird hand moved down his face, and he felt his eyes closing on instinct. He squirmed, not liking the feeling of moving on pure instinct. His eyes opened again, his lips slightly downturned. Why had his body done that? 

Two-legs tried to do it again, but he wouldn’t fall for their tricks! He kept his eyes open, making sure to never leave the target out of sight. The creature didn’t try again. Did that mean he did the right thing? Was this some sort of training? 

That feeling came again. Not hot, but not cold either. Something in between. Bouncy, not floaty this time. He liked this feeling too. 

The creature walked away, but for some reason he knew they would come back. So he stood there, wrapped in the cloth as he watched the man walk deeper into the swaying tentacle-like things. 

He saw creatures. The Black Tide, he realised. Oh, was Two-legs going to help stop the Black Tide?

He could see other Two-legs around. More people like him. A Two-legs with short hair like bones, but softer. And a Two-legs whose hair reached their shoulders. It reminded him of coral. The scary two-legs who looked like the darkness must be saving them from the Black Tide!

He watched, heart racing like he was the one fighting. Would he be able to help? Or was he just supposed to stay here? He didn’t want to upset the dark Two—

The dark Two-legs’ weapon pierced the coral-haired creature’s back. 

Shiny liquid, the same as his own, splattered everywhere. There was no water to mix with. It was on the bone-haired Two-leg’s face, dripping down their cloths. It was on the ground, on the weird sponge-coloured tentacles. On the dark Two-legs’—

He wished he had kept his eyes closed. 

Why? Why would dark Two-legs hurt them? Was it a test? Was it because he didn’t close his eyes? 

Tears formed in his eyes. He didn’t like tears. They made his eyes stingy and hot, and then his nose went all funny. He tried to wipe them away before the dark Two-legs saw them. He wasn’t weak. 

The place grew unbearably hot after that. Lights flickered and he saw things collapsing and breaking down. There was something dark drifting upwards that smelled bad. It made his lungs hot and made him cough and splutter. 

The creature returned to his side. 

He knew the dark Two-legs was no longer safe. 

The cloth on his head didn’t feel as nice anymore. 

He stared up at the covered face, wanting to show the creature how hot he was burning. How much his head hurt from questioning things. He wanted to fight him, wanted to bite him and push him back to the people who would see nothingness. 

He knew that those Two-legs wouldn’t come back. Not like he did. For them, after nothingness wasn’t cold. It was that. Nothingness. There was no coming back. 

He heard it. Screams. But they weren’t like his screams. They sounded as if they had gotten a tentacle shoved down their throat while screaming. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.

They didn’t do any of the things he wanted. In the end, for whatever reason, this creature had saved him. So instead, he looked up, and hoped that all of the things he wanted the dark Two-legs to do could be seen in his eyes.

The creature did not turn to look at him once.

Soon, the place was no more. No more Two-legs. No more sponge-coloured tentacles. No coral-haired Two-leg. In the distance, he could see the bone-haired Two-leg, staring at the bright lights dancing. 

He wondered if that Two-leg had known safety. If that Two-leg would ever find safety again. He hoped that that Two-leg would. No other Two-legs had lived. It was just the small Two-leg on his own. 

“ Let’s go . ” Oh. The creature had made weird noises again. Their hand, covered with gauntlets like his own, was stretched out toward him. He looked at it hesitantly.

This was the creature who had let the Black Tide destroy this place. The creature who had killed one of their own kind no less. And yet, for some reason, they had saved him from the Sea of Souls. 

He didn’t know what they wanted. But there was nowhere else for him to go but with the dark Two-legs. It felt wrong, his chest felt like it was being ensnared by the very tentacles he hated. But he took the hand in front of him.

It was so big compared to his own. And cold, like the waters he had been submerged in. 

The creature created a hole once more. He tried to keep his eyes open this time, so the light wouldn’t be as bad. And yet, as soon as he stepped through, his eyes closed on his own due to the sheer brightness . 

There were no Two-legs wherever he had been taken. It was just those weird things that reached upwards and cast darkness onto the ground. He could hear water nearby, but it didn’t sound like the Sea of Souls. It sounded like… A current? But he was surrounded by land… 

“Mydei…mos.” The creature’s sounds were quiet. Hang on, he recognised those sounds. He didn’t know why, but they were familiar. Like those noises were made around him before.

Something in him knew those sounds were associated with him. Mydeimos? 

It was… A name. His name . Something that belonged to him, and him alone. 

Mydeimos. Mydeimos. Mydei?

Mydei sounded nice.

…How did this Two-legs know his name? 

Mydei looked up at the Two-legs, narrowing his eyebrows slightly to look more intimidating. The creature did not even look at him. 

Instead, they walked to the base of the tall thing that reached for the sky, still holding onto Mydei’s hand. They stopped in their tracks, causing him to almost crash into them. Then, the creature sat down and stared up at him. At least, Mydei thought he was staring. He can’t tell due to their covered face. 

“ Sit down. ” More weird sounds. Eventually, Mydei sat down beside him. Is this what the creature wanted? But just as he sat down, the Two-legs stood up again! Mydei’s head was starting to hurt again… But reluctantly, he stood up again. 

“ Sit down .” The creature sat down again, but had made different noises. Puzzled, Mydei just copied him dumbly. Two-legs stood up once more, and he had to swallow down the hotness rising in him. He stood up slowly, just to show the creature he was getting bored. 

“ Sit down. Sit down . ” The creature made the same noises from earlier before. Did that mean those sounds meant to sit..? He stared at the Two-legs for a moment, eventually sitting down again.

The creature’s gauntlet-clad hand reached for his head slowly, firmly placing it on his head and rubbing back and forth.

That feeling blossomed. Not cold, not warm. Safe. It was that floaty feeling from earlier. 

That… Felt nice. 

Oh! Was the Two-legs trying to teach him how to communicate? He supposed that would be useful. 

Slowly, the creature began to step away. Mydei watched him curiously. It didn’t seem like they wanted him to follow, so why were they moving so slowly? Was this another test? 

Eventually, the dark Two-legs turned away, seemingly trusting him to not move out of his sitting position. Mydei watched them walk away, and instead focused on the scenery around him.

There were little things on the ground that looked like really short kelp. And a much brighter green than kelp or seaweed. He tried pulling some out and put it in his mouth.

Bleugh. Nope. 

If it looked like seaweed and kelp, why didn’t it taste good like seaweed and kelp?! 

He decided it would be best if he didn’t try to eat anything else. 

Loud clinking. Oh, dark Two-legs must have returned. And in their arms were… Is that a fish?! Mydei’s mouth watered a little.

And then he paused, staring at the fish. It… looked like fish. Smelled like fish. 

But that green thing on the ground had looked like seaweed and was definitely not seaweed. 

“ Fish ,” the creature said, pointing to the fish in their arms. Oh, new sounds. “ Fish .” Again, he pointed at the fish. Why did they have different sounds for the same thing?

Still, reluctantly, he copied the sounds. Maybe if he learned how to communicate, he could ask the creature all of his questions? 

“... Fish ?” he answered. The gauntlet-clad hand rested on top of his again, rubbing gently. Mydei couldn’t help the small upturn of his lips. They’ve never done that before. What did that mean? 

The creature began to prepare the ‘fish’ . Taking out the bones and the guts. Mydei already knew how to do that, but the way the Two-legs did it was so much faster and easier than he had. He copied their movements, and soon the ‘ fish’ was ready to be eaten!

Or not?

The creature held up a pointing, straight thing. It was the colour of brown algae, or perhaps a bit more… brighter? He didn’t know how to describe it. “ Stick .” The ‘ stick ’ was placed into his arms. “ Stick ,” they said again. Mydei ignored the second sound. Too complicated for his tastes. He liked the first one. Short, and it sounded sharp like teeth. 

“ Stick ..?” he asked hesitantly, almost tripping over a syllable. The hand on his head eased that heavy feeling. 

More sticks were placed in front of him. So many sticks… “ One stick. ” The creature pointed at one stick. “ Two sticks .” Using two fingers, they pointed at two ‘ sticks ’. Mydei nodded, copying his words and committing it to memory. The Two-legs didn’t speak in those flowy sounding noises anymore, which he was grateful for.

Soon he was able to count to ‘ twenty ’. He didn’t know why twenty, but he just accepted it. 

The creature points at some oddly shaped objects that reminded him somewhat of coral. Except, they were all boringly dull in colour. More like dead coral than anything. “ Rocks. ” Mydei watched them make a circle using the ‘ rocks’ , and then gestured for him to throw the ‘ sticks’ into the middle of the circle. 

Then, some weird pointy ovals were handed to him. They were the green things from the tall things that reached for the sky. “ Leaves ,” the creature explained, pointing at the top of the ‘ sticks’ . Mydei nodded, scattering the green ‘ leaves’ onto the ‘ sticks’ . 

“Twelve rocks… Fifteen leaves, ” he counted. The Two-legs paused in his movements, staring at him. Before Mydei could question the change in behaviour, he was rewarded with not one but two head pats! 

He spent a long time watching the creature rub some sticks together. For a moment, he thought they had gone mad, until he saw small bursts of light flying out. He gasped as the ‘ leaves ’ suddenly burst into light.

It was the same thing he had seen in that place earlier. But smaller. More controlled. He pointed at it curiously, turning to the Two-legs for answers. “ Fire ,” they explained. So that thing from before… It had been a ‘ fire ’. The one from that place looked scary. But this one was small….

Surely, it would be fine if he touched it, right?

A loud hiss escaped from him unwarranted. Hot hot hot. It wasn’t as bad as getting stabbed, but it was still hot and tingly. Would he lose feeling in his fingers? Oh… His skin was turning a bit red, like the marks on his body. 

He heard a sigh from beside him, and then his hand was being taken into the creature’s, a finger pressing into the redness on his finger. The cold from the gauntlets felt nice against the searing hotness. “ The fire is hot ,” the Two-legs explained. Mydei stared at him. He only recognised ‘ fire ’. 

The creature either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the blank look on Mydei’s face. Instead, the finger on his redness stroked gently. “ Burn ,” they said. Mydei looked at the small injury on his finger. So the searing hot red was known as a ‘ burn ’? “ The fire is hot, ” the creature continued. “ It gives heat. The heat is what makes it burn. ” 

Mydei’s head was starting to hurt again. The Two-legs was looking at him, and he quickly realised it was another test of the creatures. 

“... Fire, hot. Fire burn ,” he said slowly, unsure if what he said was correct. It made sense in his head from what the creature had taught him.

He got three head pats for his efforts. Three!

The creature put the ‘ fish ’ onto the ‘stick ’, and then put into the ‘ fire ’... What were they doing? It was going to end up all ‘ burn ’! “ Burn fish ?” he asked the Two-legs. The creature shook his head, but it didn’t make Mydei feel heavy like he expected it to. He just felt… Normal? 

“Cook fish,” they said, introducing a new word to him. Mydei couldn’t help the small downturn of his lips. What’s the difference between ‘cook’ and ‘burn’? They were both putting things into the ‘fire’! He looked down at the small ‘burn’ on his finger, then the ‘fish’ on a ‘stick’ in the ‘fire’. 

The Two-legs seemed to have caught the silent question, retracting the ‘ fish ’ from the ‘ fire ’ to show Mydei. “ On the outside, it burns ,” they said, pointing to the skin of the ‘ fish ’. It didn’t look red like Mydei’s ‘ burn ’, but black like ink instead. “ On the inside, it cooks ,” they continued, pointing to the once white flesh of the ‘ fish ’, which was now a light brown. 

So… If Mydei stayed in the ‘ fire ’ long enough, would he be ‘ cook ’? Or was it ‘ cooked ’? He recognised that they were mostly the same word, but slightly different. Surely they must mean the same thing though, right? 

Two-legs’ way of communicating was hard. 

He nodded anyway to show he was getting it. Kind of. Two ‘ fish ’ on ‘ sticks ’ were handed to him. One that had been in the ‘ fire ’, and one that hadn’t. Mydei took both and looked at them. “ Cooked ,” the creature explained, pointing to the ‘ fish ’ that had been in the ‘ fire ’. “ Raw. ” He pointed to the other one.

So ‘ cook ’ was now and ‘ cooked ’ was before..? 

Had he mentioned that the Two-legs’ way of communicating was hard? 

“ Cooked fish. Raw fish, ” he said with a nod, looking between the different ‘ fish ’. The creature rewarded him with more head pats. Well, only one this time. The heavy feeling came back, wrapping around his heart like tentacles. He didn’t like that feeling, so he tried to ignore it by eating the ‘ raw fish ’.

Oh. So this ‘ fish ’ was fish after all. It wasn’t like that seaweed lookalike. 

Midbite, he noticed the creature reach for the thing that covered their face, and lifted it slightly revealing… A perfectly normal face. Or, mouth. All Mydei could see was their mouth and the surrounding skin. “ Eat ,” the Two-legs said, taking a bite out of the fish. 

So… ‘eat’ meant to take a bite out of your food? He took a bite out of the ‘cooked’ fish and chewed. Oh, he liked this fish. It tasted different from the ‘raw’ fish. He looked up at the creature, mouth still full of fish and repeated, “Eat?” The Two-legs nodded, but no head pat followed.

He hadn’t meant to look up at them like that, but he had thought he had done well… Before the tentacles could fully wrap around his heart again, the hand rested on his head again, slowly ruffling it. He liked these head pats the best. 

He learned many new words while helping the creature set up a ‘ tent ’. The big blue thing above them was called the ‘ sky ’, the white things that looked super fluffy were ‘ clouds ’. The things that reached up to the ‘sky ’ were ‘ trees ’.

Soon, they were lying down in their ‘ tent ’, the creature’s cloth covering him and giving him that not too hot, not too cold feeling. Safe. “ Close your eyes ,” the creature said. Mydei’s eyes widened in recognition. It was the words that the Two-legs had said back in that place with lots of Two-legs. But it was in that flowy way that Mydei didn’t like. “ Close your eyes ,” the creature repeated, in the way that he liked, as if reading his mind. 

Obediently, Mydei let his eyes close. He knew better than to open them after what happened last time. He was rewarded with a head pat in response, and that floaty feeling returned. “ Go to sleep ,” the Two-legs murmured. Mydei peeked open one eye, and saw the creature pretending to sleep.

Sleep hadn’t been an option when he was in the Sea of Souls. The only rest he got was when he fell into nothingness, waiting to wake up again. 

Still, he tried. He didn’t want the creature to feel tentacles around their heart…

His eyes felt so heavy. He supposed this is what falling asleep was really like. And so, he let it consume him. 

There was nothingness. But for once, it didn’t feel all-consuming, like he was being swallowed alive. Instead, there was that not too hot, not too cold feeling. The one that bloomed like those ‘ flowers ’ the dark Two-legs had shown him. 

Something was crawling down his back, stopping just around the middle. He moved away from it instinctually, curling up into the feeling beside him. Maybe the dark Two-legs was safe after all… 

…The tentacles were back.

Crawling, grabbing, pulling at him. They had trapped his limbs, ready to tear them off—

He wouldn’t go down without a fight. No more nothingness. Mydei kicked his legs relentlessly, tossing and turning. The water around him simply beckoned to his thrashing, rippling around them. The tentacles only tightened their hold on him.

No, he couldn’t… He didn’t want to see nothingness again. But they were starting to cover his eyes, his mouth, his nose—

Soft sounds managed to reach his ears. They weren’t words, just soft and sweet harmony. It wasn’t like the other words from before, which had been flowy yet stiff. Mydei gasped as the creature appeared, tearing off the tentacles that had threatened to strangle him. 

He could breathe. 

Mydei looked up at the dark Two-legs with awe. Their strength… 

He really was safe with them. 

Maybe those Two-legs the dark Two-legs had stabbed were secretly evil. Maybe that was why… 

Perhaps he could trust them. 

When he woke up, the Two-legs wasn’t moving. Mydei poked at the thing covering their face, to which the creature groaned and turned the other way. Good, still here. They hadn’t somehow drifted off into nothingness. They were just ‘ sleep ’. 

He sat there in their ‘ tent ’ for a moment, wondering what he should do. Would the creature be mad if he left the ‘ tent ’? But he was starting to feel empty, and the fish from before had tasted so good… 

If he made some fish for the Two-legs, would they be ok with it? If not, Mydei would just have to do whatever face he had made last time that got him head pats. 

He nodded to himself. A solid plan. 

Mydei looked at the place where the ‘ fire ’ had been. He threw out the old ‘ sticks ’ and ‘ leaves ’, replacing them with new ones he found around the area. He stayed away from the weird water noises, just in case there were tentacles over there too… 

He could fight them, but then he’d get that golden liquid all over him again. The Two-leg creature probably wouldn’t be happy.

Starting the ‘ fire ’ was harder than he thought. He had to rub the sticks quicker than he had anticipated. But after sparks caught, the ‘ leaves ’ soon became ‘ fire ’. Mydei gave himself a head pat.

He looked down at the ‘ burn ’ on his finger. It was gone now, but it had been tingly when he first got it. Maybe he could try to ‘ cook ’ the tentacles..? He shook his head, remembering how slimy they had felt. He’d rather not eat them if he had a choice. 

There was still some fish leftover from yesterday, so Mydei put the rest on some ‘ sticks ’ and started to ‘ cook ’ them. He had liked how the creature had ‘ cooked ’ it yesterday, but it was a little too much ‘ cook ’... Did he use that word right? 

Mydei took the fish out a little earlier and bit into it. He chewed slowly before nodding to himself. Yes, this was better. 

In his enjoyment, he hadn’t realised the Two-legs had woken up. He was getting complacent, that wasn’t good. Any more and the tentacles would surely show him nothingness again… 

They didn’t seem mad. Good. In fact, they even sat beside him, giving him a head pat. He assumed it was for the fire he had made all on his own. He couldn’t stop the way his lips upturned, the bouncy feeling returning again. 

He gave the creature one of the fish he had ‘ cooked ’. The Two-legs took it into their gauntlet-clad hands, turning it over. The thing covering their face was moved up slightly, and they took a bite. Mydei waited with anticipation. Did the creature like it, or should he have ‘ cooked ’ it for longer?

“ It’s good… ” the Two-legs said quietly. Mydei blinked, wondering what those sounds meant. “ It’s good ,” they repeated, patting his head. 

So… ‘ Good ’ meant head pats? He only got head pats when he did something good… Did that mean the fish tasted good? 

He was feeling the bouncy feeling again. The not too hot, not too cold, that spread across his body, but mostly in his chest. 

“Good morning ,” the creature said abruptly. Mydei blinked. He hadn’t done anything, why was the Two-legs saying good? He waited for an explanation, but it never came. Should he just say it back?

“Good morning ,” he repeated.

They ate their fish in silence. 

Afterward, the creature took him to an area with lots of ‘ trees ’. They reminded him of those kelp forests he saw. They were always so easy to get lost in, and whenever the tentacles came, he’d get caught in the kelp… 

The place with lots of ‘ trees ’ was alright. Still easy to get lost in, but the creature was holding his hand. He had held it before, but the size difference always amazed him. This Two-leg must be very strong. 

They stopped in front of some green clouds with different coloured circles. “ Berry ,” the creature said, pointing at the circles. Mydei nodded, repeating it back to him. Then, they started pointing at individual ones. The bone-coloured one was ‘ white ’, the one like a sponge was ‘ yellow ’, the one that was a bit darker than the ‘ sky ’ was blue, the ‘ berry ’ the colour of his cloths were ‘ red ’, and the last one was ‘ purple ’. 

“Good,” the creature said, pointing at the red, blue and purple ones. He then pointed to the white and yellow ones. “ Bad .” He hadn’t heard that word before, but if the others were good and these were ‘ bad ’, that must mean he couldn’t eat these. 

Alright, so he could eat these ones, right? He picked up a red ‘berry’, ready to eat it, only for a hand to grab his arm. He tried not to flinch, but the memory of being grabbed by tentacles had flashed in his mind. No, this creature was safe. They weren’t trying to hurt Mydei. 

The ‘ berry ’ was squeezed, and then rubbed onto the creature’s arm, and then Mydei’s. He stared at the liquids running down his arm, tempted to lick it. “ Wait ,” they said, and Mydei waited for an explanation. 

Like that word ‘ morning ’, he didn’t receive an explanation. But eventually, his arm began to feel tingly and hot, like his finger had when he put it into the ‘ fire’ . But there was no ‘ fire’ here, why did it feel like when he got that ‘ burn ’?

That word ‘ wait ’. They had stood here doing nothing. So did wait mean just… Doing nothing? 

Ah, the ‘ burn ’ was really hurting now… “Burn,” Mydei murmured, pointing to his arm. 

“Bad berries burn your arm,” the creature said. He kinda understood it. White and yellow ‘berry’ were bad, and red, blue and purple ‘berry’ were good. But sometimes the red, blue and purple ‘berry’ were camouflaged as good ‘berry’ when they were actually ‘bad berry’, and so he can’t eat them. And to find out if they were camouflaged, he had to rub the juices on his arm to see if it ‘burn’. 

Hmm… But ‘ burn ’ from ‘ fire ’ was a bit different from ‘ burn ’ from ‘ berry ’... but they both gave the same hot, tingly feeling. The ‘ fire ’ hurt more, but now his arm won’t stop ‘ burn ’ from ‘ berry ’. He didn’t complain though. He’s been through worse, and he knew it would go back to normal quickly. 

The Two-legs brought some berries up to his nose to smell. He liked the sweet one, surely that one was ok? He picked it up, almost biting into it before the creature took it away again. Not good? This was making his head hurt… “ Sweet smell. Bad .” Mydei nodded along, pretending he knew what those words meant, but looked at the ‘ berry ’ he had almost eaten with a frown. If it smelled good, why was it not good? 

He picked up another pair and held it out for the Two-legs. Gently, they shook their head. Mydei frowned. Were these also sweet-smelling? He brought it up to his nose and immediately recoiled. No, definitely not. At least the weird smelling ones were ‘ bad ’. That made sense. 

So what ‘ berry ’ was he supposed to eat? 

He picked up one last batch of ‘ berry ’ and sniffed it. Not sweet… But not ‘bad’ either. Was this it? Mydei showed the ‘ berry ’ to the Two-legs, who nodded and gave him a head pat. “Good job .” The floaty feeling returned. 

It was only the purple ‘berry’ left. Some were big, and some were small. “This is a small berry. This is a big berry.” The creature pointed at the different sizes, and Mydei nodded. Ok, those ones were ‘small’, and those ones were ‘big’. Got it. 

“Eat the small berry.” Mydei picked up the smallest purple ‘berry’ and ate it, chewing slowly. He’s never had something like this before. It was… He didn’t know how to describe it. But it tasted good. That’s what mattered. “Wait to see if it’s good or bad.” 

Oh, so they’d be doing nothing again. 

Except, they weren’t. The creature suddenly stood up and started walking out. Mydei hurried to join him. If ‘ wait ’ didn’t mean doing nothing, then what did ‘ wait ’ mean?! Why did these Two-legs have such complicated sounds and meanings? 

When they returned to their ‘ tent ’, the Two-legs had put weird symbols onto something flat and said certain sounds. Apparently he was learning how to ‘ read ’. The creature had been talking in two ‘ languages ’. The one that he liked was known as ‘ Kremnoan ’, and the flowy yet stiff one was ‘ Common ’. He didn’t know why he’d need to know two ‘ languages ’, but he liked having the Two-legs talk to him and show him new things, so he sat quietly and tried his best. 

He didn’t get as many head pats. Which was… Ok. He could live without them. But they were nice, and he didn’t just get them for doing good. Sometimes the creature would come out of nowhere and just give him a head pat. 

Maybe head pat didn’t mean good after all. It just meant… Safe. 

“Mydeimos,” the creature said. Oh. That was him! He looked up at the creature, wondering what they wanted. “ Name. That’s your name. ” The Two-legs pointed at him. So his ‘ name ’ was Mydeimos… And Mydeimos only belonged to him.

Did that mean this creature also had a ‘ name ’? Something that belonged to them, and them only? 

“ Name ?” he asked.

“ What is your name ?” the Two-legs gently corrected. Was that how you asked?

“ What your name ?” he repeated, waiting for an answer. 

“ What is your name? ” Had he said it wrong again? Oops. 

“ What… ” What was the word after that again? Oh, right. “... is your name ?”

“ Khaslana. ” The creature's shoulders seemed to droop in a way Mydei’s only did when there was no danger around. Did that mean… He also thought Mydei was safe? Safe enough to share their name? “ My name is Khaslana.” 

It was such a pretty name. 

“ My name is Mydeimos!” he copied. 

Khaslana taught him how to ‘ write ’ his ‘ name ’ onto the flat grey thing. While Khaslana’s had straight lines and delicate curves, Mydei’s was all wonky and jagged. He frowned. Why were his fingers not doing what he told them too?

Still, he liked looking at it. Their names together. Khaslana put it under the sun to dry, and then placed it back into their ‘ tent ’. 

It was then that Mydei started to feel his stomach go funny. It was hot, too hot. He scrambled to find the word. “ Bad ,” he croaked, circling his arms around his stomach to protect himself. 

“ Sick ,” Khaslana explained gently, guiding him somewhere. 

It was… Water. Running water, like a current. But it wasn’t dark and murky like the Sea of Souls. He could see little ‘ rocks ’ at the bottom of the water. He never knew water could be like that. 

Khaslana shoved two fingers down their throat, and Mydei instinctually followed. He accidentally jabbed his throat and began coughing and spluttering.

Something was gonna come out, was that supposed to happen? 

He didn’t feel good at all. 

It did come out. Into the water. His throat was ‘ burn ’ and his mouth tasted disgusting. The water below him had turned murky from whatever he had gotten rid of. He hoped that ‘ berry ’ was gone now. 

He glanced up at Khaslana, wondering what all of this was for. The Two-legs had been so adamant on not letting Mydei eat any ‘ bad berries ’, only to let him eat one anyway! 

…Now that Mydei thought about it, there had actually been one more group of ‘ berry ’ he hadn’t tried. It was a bit of a darker ‘ purple ’, but both had smelled like nothing. Maybe… Khaslana was trying to teach him that some ‘ berry ’ had even better camouflage than the sweet-smelling ones. So he had to eat the small ‘ berry ’ to test it. 

He shivered at the thought of what would have happened if he had eaten the big ‘ berry ’. 

“ Sorry ,” Khaslana whispered, gently patting his back. Mydei didn’t like the way they had said it. Like Mydei was fragile and would break. But at the same time… It felt nice to see that Khaslana at least knew he was wrong.

At least, he thought that’s what that tone meant. 

The patting on his back soothed him. Eventually, he looked up at Khaslana. “ Better ?” He assumed the Two-legs was asking if he was ok, so he nodded. “ Now you know for next time—don’t eat that berry again. ”

He sorta understood it. The ‘ sick ’ had been to teach Mydei how to survive. How to make sure that he wouldn’t have to see nothingness again. 

Khaslana sat him down near the water. Mydei watched as they walked into the waters. They weren’t using their weapon, though. He watched as Khaslana suddenly dived beneath the waters, holding his breath as he waited for them to resurface. 

He knew they were strong enough to fight the tentacles, but what if it outnumbered them? What if the tentacles in these waters were even stronger than the ones in the Sea of Souls?

This water looked too good, too peaceful to be true. And yet, Khaslana reemerged holding three fish in one of their hands. Mydei let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. Why was he holding it in the first place? Khaslana kept making him do weird things… 

Maybe these were just things normal Two-legs did. Most Two-legs didn't spend all of their life in the Sea of Souls. Most Two-legs didn’t come back after seeing nothingness. Maybe Khaslana was just… Teaching him how to be normal. 

Normal Two-legs knew how to ‘ read ’ and ‘ write ’. Normal Two-legs knew what kind of ‘ berry ’ was safe to eat. And Mydei… He was learning, and he’d catch up with the rest. 

There was no such thing as ‘giving up’ to Mydei. 

Khaslana gave him the fish to ‘ cook ’. Mydei took it into his hands and looked up at them. Did this mean they liked his fish? 

Either way, he prepped the fish for the both of them to eat. He was introduced to some white flecks called ‘ salt ’ which made his tongue tingle when he tried a tiny piece. Khaslana sprinkled different amounts onto the fish. Mydei copied, slowly increasing the amount of ‘ salt ’ he placed on each one. 

After the fish was ‘ cooked ’, Mydei handed some to Khaslana, and kept the rest in his hands. He tried the one with more ‘ salt ’, taking a bite out of it. Immediately, his tongue was assaulted by a harsh tingling feeling, far more than it had when he had tasted a tiny bit.

He couldn’t help but cough and splutter at the taste. The water flask was handed to him silently, and Mydei took a swig gratefully. The water soothed the ‘ burn ’ in his throat, and he sighed in relief. 

“ Salty. Too much salt, ” they explained. Mydei nodded to himself, though he didn’t understand some of the words. Lots of ‘ salt ’ didn’t taste good at all.

 Khaslana pointed at another skewer, one that Mydei had put less ‘ salt ’ on. He looked at the fish hesitantly. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of having another attack on his throat… Still, he trusted Khaslana’s judgement. 

There was still a slight tingle on his tongue. But it wasn’t like before. It made the fish taste better… Mydei salivated a little, biting into the fish again. And then again. Before he knew it, the fish was gone. Hmm, he’d have to remember to put that amount of ‘ salt ’ onto it again. 

“Good?” Khaslana asked him. He nodded, looking for another fish that didn’t have a lot of ‘ salt ’. 

“Good,” he agreed. Khaslana had caught some good fish this time around. He reached up and patted them on the head, just as the other had done for him multiple times now. He turned back to his food, savouring the new taste. 

Soon, they went to ‘ sleep ’. Mydei wasn’t that tired, but laying in the ‘ tent ’ with Khaslana felt good. He was wrapped in Khaslana’s black cloth again, curled into their stomach. Their hand rested in front of Mydei, gauntlets cool to the touch. 

He flexed their fingers curiously, wondering why Khaslana never took them off. Or the thing covering their face for that matter. He didn’t question it, though. Didn’t know the Kremnoan words that he could use to ask. So he played with the gauntlet-clad fingers until his eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. 

“Good night ,” Khaslana said when they noticed Mydei’s sleepy expression. He blinked at the unfamiliar second word. “ Go to sleep .” He stopped playing with Khaslana’s fingers and instead closed his eyes, letting sleep take over him.

“ Good night, Khas ,” he murmured back, copying their words. His eyes slipped close, and yet he couldn’t fall asleep. He felt the black cloth tuck beneath his chin, enveloping him in safety. A hand ran through his hair, and the same sounds from last night played.

Oh. It had been Khas after all. He smiled as he drifted off. Of course Khas was the one keeping him safe, even in his dreams. 

Mydei had been staying with Khas for a while now. A few weeks, if his concept of time was correct. He had learned a lot more about Kremnoan and Common, reading and writing, and basic survival skills. The ‘Two-legs’ were called humans. There were certain animals that were better to hunt than others. Khas taught him some other recipes for food, how to use the surroundings to his advantage, and so much more.

Words were easier now. He could speak in full sentences with Khaslana, even holding whole conversations. The grammar and tenses would be off at times, but he was working on it. There was no such word as give up. 

They started a little garden near their tent, growing different herbs like mint and chilis. Plants that would produce quickly so that Khas didn’t have to disappear to… Wherever to get more ingredients. He had noticed that Khas seemed calmer when tending to the plants near their tent. Maybe he had a garden back at home? 

There were so many things he didn’t know about Khaslana yet. Who he was beneath that mask, where he came from, why he chose to save Mydei that day. But he didn’t voice it. He didn’t care who Khaslana was, it wouldn’t change who he was to him. 

He had watched him murder a girl barely older than him, and still stuck by his side. The why wasn’t important at the moment. He had felt the sombreness back when they had watched that small town burn down, even if he hadn’t known what it was back then. 

Khaslana hadn’t wanted to kill her. And yet he did anyway. Mydei doubted that it was because he was a coward (though not giving her an honourable fight to the death was something he didn’t understand), so he stayed quiet. 

Grown ups were weird anyways. 

He walked outside the tent where he had finished changing. The clothes were starting to get a bit worn out and thin now, covered in rips and tears that could only be mended so many times before they were unsalvageable. They were getting too small for him anyway. Would Khas have to go get more?

Speaking of his guardian, he found him sitting outside on a rock, writing on some paper. Curious, he walked over and peered over his shoulder from behind. “What are you doing?” he asked. Khas never looked up from his writing. 

“Your clothes are getting too small. We need to buy new ones,” the elder had explained. Mydei tilted his head in confusion.

“Buy?”

“You’ll see.”

And so Mydei sat opposite Khaslana reluctantly, brain slightly aching as he was told about the economy, currency, credits, the different coloured notes and everything in between. Why was it so hard to get clothes?

Khaslana pointed to a rock with the paper he had been writing on attached by a string. ‘1000’ stared up at him, and he stared back. “See this?” Khas asked, thumbing the paper. “This shows how much you need to get it. 1000 credits. Can you show me that?”

Mydei sifted through the various purple notes of different shades, before pulling out the smallest one with ‘1000’ printed on it. Khas handed him the rock and took the credits. It was a nice rock. Grey with a blue tinge. Nice and smooth. He’d be keeping this one. 

“That’s buying,” Khaslana explained. Mydei nodded. Buying, buy, buyed was when you gave someone credits for something else, got it. 

“So I buyed this rock?”

“You bought this rock.”

“Oh.”

…

“That’s stupid.”

“I know.”

Khaslana set up a fake stall, which was apparently just a fancy word for a place where people sell stuff. In front of his guardian were some rocks borrowed from Mydei’s collection, some fish skewers and the clay tablet from their first writing lesson. 

Obviously, Mydei went for the skewers first. He wasn’t sure what was reasonable or not, but handed over the 6000 credits for three fish skewers, absent mindedly eating them as his eyes fell on the clay tablet. 

Technically, he had all he needed, and he knew this was just a game to help teach him how to buy things but… He wanted it. 

The price tag said 12 000. He only had 10 000. 

“How much?” he asked, despite knowing the answer wouldn’t change. Still, he was a bit disappointed when Khaslana confirmed it was 12 000. He tried to not give it away, it was just a game after all. 

“Why 12 000?” Mydei questioned, tilting his head a little. The question seemed to please Khaslana at the very least. 

“It’s good-quality clay, you see. Came from far away. We pay the people who made it—and the ones who wrote on it too. That’s why it is twelve,” Khaslana explained. Mydei nodded. Other people needed to make money somehow. 

But 12 000?

“How much did the clay cost?” Mydei questioned.

“Three thousand.”

“How much was the artist paid?” 

“Four thousand.”

“Then why isn’t it seven thousand?” 

“I paid them seven thousand, but in order to make money, I have to sell it for higher. Not to mention transportation of the clay tablet. That’s why it’s twelve thousand,” Khaslana explained slowly. 

So there was a mark up so the person who was giving him the things could also earn credits to buy their own things. That made sense. 

But 12 000 was still 12 000. Surely they didn't need that much. Just enough to not make a loss, right? He could understand that. Khaslana selling it at the stall made it more convenient for Mydei than if he did it himself. He was paying for convenience. 

…But 12 000 credits. 

Maybe he could try bargaining?

“Eight thousand,” Mydei said firmly. Enough that Khaslana wouldn't make a loss, and not an unreasonable price, in his opinion.  

“Twelve thousand,” Khaslana said, keeping his tone even. There wasn't even a small flinch at Mydei’s attempt.

He narrowed his eyes. Fine, he could afford to pay more.  “Nine thousand.”

“Eleven thousand… Five hundred.” He couldn't help but stare at Khas in disbelief. Was this how the stall owners acted, or was he just making things harder for Mydei to prepare him?

Two could play at this game. In the end, he didn't need the tablet. Khaslana was the one who needed the credits. “Nine thousand or I’m leaving,” he huffed.

“Ten thousand… and the two shiniest rocks,” Khaslana offered, carefully sliding them next to the clay tablet. Mydei stared for a moment. One was black with a purple tint, the other red and orange. He had liked them in particular because it reminded him of Khas and himself. 

He looked toward the rock prices. 550 credits each. Which meant the clay tablet was being offered at…

Carry the one… And then carry that one…

“...Deal.” 

Khaslana handed him his items, and he handed over the 10 000 credits. He left the fake stall satisfied. He was fed, got his two favourite rocks, and the clay tablet that held fond memories. 

He traced over the carved out lines that spelt out ‘KHASLANA AND MYDEIMOS’. Khaslana’s smooth and elegant lines versus his jagged and rough ones brought a smile to his face. He placed it back in their tent, nice and safe. 

When he reemerged from the tent, Khas was waiting for him nearby, a portal open for them. Oh. He was going to do this now? Today? 

It would be the first time he’s interacted with humans outside of Khaslana. 

They walked through together, yet it was only Mydei who walked to the entrance of the town. He stopped in his tracks, turning back to Khas. “Are you coming?” he asked. He was met with a gentle shake of his head. 

…Was it because of that outfit that Khaslana wore? That town from before… All the other humans had been showing their faces. Only Khas wore a mask and was adamant on not showing Mydei any hints on what he looked like. All that he knew was that beneath that mask was pale skin. 

He supposed all the other times Khas went to buy things he had taken off the all black outfit into something more appropriate. But since he was with Mydei, he couldn't reveal himself. 

Mydei would have to go alone. 

Eventually, he nodded, “Ok.”

“Buy something nice. And make sure to speak in Common,” Khaslana said, slipping him a few extra credits. Mydei nodded, grateful. He gave Khas a small wave, before walking to town. 

He didn't need Khas to hold his hand through everything. 

He had always felt it. The distance Khaslana tried to put between them. The insistence of having to teach him something every day. It wasn't without reason. It wasn't just because Khaslana had decided to adopt him. He wasn't even quite sure if he was adopted by Khas (but… It would be nice). 

Khaslana was planning to leave Mydei. He didn't know when, or why, but he knew that eventually, they would part ways. The idea had made him cry once. Why save him if he was just going to up and leave him? Why teach him how to survive? Why give him affection, why teach him how to live ?

But everything Khas did was for a reason. He knew that. That somewhere, beneath the distant front was a man who cared for him. 

The town had lots of buildings. Houses. There was a stone structure in the middle that spat out water. Mydei poked at the water curiously. Where did it come from? Why were these people just wasting it like that? 

So many people! It almost made him uncomfortable. Kids his age pointed and stared, and adults seemed to be giving him looks of pity. He looked down at himself. Did he miss a spot when bathing? 

He passed by a park along the way. Kids playing with their guardians, chasing each other. They must be learning how to hunt. He smiled, remembering how Khas first taught him. Though, it definitely didn't involve any chasing and involved a lot more killing. 

He saw a few kids tumbling around on the floor, and watched silently. It seemed to be an even match between the two, with neither staying on the ground long enough to determine a victor. A guardian rushed in, separating the two and scolded them for their behaviour. He frowned a little. It was good that these children were learning how to fight. They hadn't been hurting each other, so why had the adult stopped them?

He shook his head and continued deeper into the town. He was just here to do some shopping. 

Though, this was surely not the only reason he was here. Khas liked to hide lessons within lessons. Things that Mydei didn't think he'd need but later became useful. 

Coming here… Khaslana wanted him to learn how to be around other humans. Learn what being normal was, perhaps. They lived in a tent while other children lived in houses. They seemed to typically have two guardians, and it was the female usually caring for them. Mydei only had one, and it was Khas.

But as he watched the mother fuss over her children, he couldn't help but be grateful that Khas wasn't like that. Overbearing. He wasn't scared of Mydei getting hurt, didn't coddle him when he did, and certainly didn't scold him for any mistakes he made. 

Maybe it wasn't a normal life, but he had spent most of his life fighting in the Sea of Souls anyway. He was happy. No, he was… He didn't know any other word for it, but he was more than happy to live with Khas.

Finally the market was in sight. Mydei couldn't help but stare in awe at all the things on display. Food he’s never seen before, weapons, armor, weird contraptions… 

Ah, but first, clothes. 

He walked around, trying to find clothes that would be practical yet nice looking. Maybe something similar to what he was currently wearing? It was the only thing from his home town, wherever that was. 

He found a lady selling children’s clothes. Ladies were sifting through the clothes, while pouty children stood to the side, complaining about being hungry, wanting to play, needing to relieve themselves, etc. Mydei paid them no mind, copying the women around him. 

“Hi, sweetie,” a lady smiled, crouching in front of him. He tensed, staring at her. Why did her voice sound like that? Like she already knew him.

What did she call him? “Sweetie.” It sounded like “sweet.” But what did it mean?. “Where are your parents?” He didn't know what that last word was either, but he assumed it was similar to guardian. 

Maybe it was when the children actually belonged to the guardian? 

“Outside,” he said curtly but as politely as possible. He wasn't used to speaking Common, having preferred Kremnoan, but he was glad Khas had taught him. 

“That wouldn't do! Why are you shopping by yourself?” she fussed. Mydei was already getting tired just talking to her. 

“Because he trusts me. And it's really sad that you don't trust your kids to go shopping by themselves.” 

Oops. That wasn't supposed to come out. 

But was he wrong?

He bowed his head in apology anyway and turned back to doing his shopping. He found something similar to what he was wearing, and in red too.

Behind him, he could hear the lady tut in disapproval. “Of course, that boy is a Kremnoan…” 

What did that mean?

He wanted to go back to Khas… 

After finding a few more clothes and a new pair of shoes, he paid for his items and headed toward the weaponry he saw earlier. 

“A Kremnoan, eh?” the man running the stall hummed. Mydei stared at him. Was Mydei Kremnoan? He was just taught the language. He didn't know where he came from. “Sorry, I don't have anything for children.”

“Can you make them?” he asked. The man shook his head and redirected him toward something called a blacksmith. The person running it didn't ask questions when Mydei asked for new gauntlets and a lance. Just told him to come back when he was done shopping and pay half in advance. 

With that sorted, Mydei walked through the rest of the market before his eyes landed on a fruit stall. Khaslana mainly brought preserved fruits, and so he's never tried them fresh. His eyes landed on a fruit he had never seen before. Circular, and a pinkish colour. He held it in his hand curiously. 

“Do you like pomegranates?” the lady running the stall asked. Mydei turned the fruit over in his hand. A Pomegranate…

“I've never had one before,” he told her. 

“It's sweet, but also a bit tangy… Like if you mix cherry and grapes together!” He wasn't sure what tangy was, and he had never eaten a cherry, but he liked grapes. Khas often brought back grapes whenever he went shopping. 

“I'll buy just one,” he said. He looked at the sign in confusion. What is a kg? 

“That'll be 320 credits for just the one,” the lady told him, seemingly noticing his confusion. He nodded, handing her the credits and holding the pomegranate in hand. 

He wondered if it would taste nice. 

Mydei decided to wander around the town a little more. There were many things that he didn't know, and probably would never get the chance to ask Khas, so he just admired from afar. 

At the very end, he got his weapons from the blacksmith and returned to Khaslana, who was sitting beneath a tree, deep in thought. Once he saw Mydei, he quickly stood up and opened the portal back home. “Did you have fun?” he asked. Mydei nodded, playing with the pomegranate in his hands. 

Khas stared at him for a moment, likely wanting him to ask questions about what he saw. Mydei had questions too, though he wanted to try this pomegranate first before anything. 

He had a feeling if he started asking questions now, Khas would start distancing himself further. Instead, he just held out the fruit. “Can you cut this for me, please?” 

There was no hesitation. Khas merely took the fruit wordlessly and cut it open. Some white thing was on the inside. Khaslana peeled it away, revealing red seeds underneath. 

“You eat the seeds and chew. You can spit them out if you want, but it’s healthier to swallow,” Khas explained, handing Mydei the pomegranate. 

Mydei nodded eagerly, taking the fruit to the tree beside the river’s edge to eat. He picked up a handful and put it into his mouth.

Immediately, he was met with a delicious sweetness, but also a bit of sourness? Maybe that was the ‘tangy’ the lady had mentioned. Though the seeds did taste kind of weird after chewing for too long. He swallowed the seeds and ate some more. 

Next time he went shopping, he'd buy some more and share with Khas.

When he had finished eating the fruit and washing the juices in the river, he found Khaslana readjusting his armour. Mydei’s eyes widened. Would Khas finally let him spar?! 

It had been one of the things he had been dying to do ever since the other had saved him from the Sea of Souls. That show of strength… It would take a long time for Mydei to reach his level. But he would. 

He decided against using the lance today. He was much more familiar using his body as a weapon, and he needed to show Khas how well he could fight. The other didn't seem intent on fighting today, but that was alright. He would get his all  -out battle with Khaslana another day. He couldn't wait to see what Khas would be like when he didn't hold back.  

Like always, everything was a lesson for Mydei. Khaslana didn't make it obvious when he made a mistake. Didn't grab his hand and correct his form, but did a small tilt that said ‘Are you sure?’.

He had never thought about form or footing back in the Sea of Souls. It was do or die. But as his punches landed with purpose instead of instinct, he felt it click. 

He started to see and feel when he did something wrong. Khas would give a small hum of acknowledgement in response. 

And then he started dodging. 

So fast! A grin found its way onto Mydei’s face. 

“You’re not in the Sea of Souls anymore,” Khaslana reminded him gently. “You’re fighting intelligent creatures now. Don’t be predictable.”

Right. Khas wasn't some tentacles whose only goal was to kill him. That meant… Outmaneuvering, outsmarting, predicting. 

Though he didn't land a single hit on Khaslana, he was starting to catch up. Starting to create his own style and rhythm. Ahh, Khas was just within reach!

Mydei aimed a kick toward Khaslana’s leg, forcing the other to the side. There! He drove his fist forward—

Only for Khaslana to catch it. “That's enough for today,” he told him. Mydei could only stare in shock. He mentally shook his head, now looking at Khas in confusion. Why had they stopped? It was just getting good! “Next time, I'll fight back,” he warned him. 

“Can we go a little longer?” Mydei asked, before a growl interrupted him. He couldn't help the heat in his cheeks. Had they really been sparring for that long? He hadn't even realised he was hungry…

“Tomorrow,” Khas promised softly. Mydei nodded, and they headed back home so he could cook. 

After dinner, they lay in their tent again, Mydei curled into Khaslana’s side. He felt safer like the, with the other’s warmth pressed up against him. 

Often, when they laid like this, Khas would run his hand down his back before resting in the middle. He had never questioned it before, but he had always been curious. “What's that?” he asked quietly. 

The hand on his back stopped, the cold gauntlets sending a shiver down his spine. 

“That’s… your weak spot,” Khaslana said. “The only way to kill you. The tenth thoracic vertebra.”

So… He could die after all. 

He had never considered the thought that he could die. All that time spent in the Sea of Souls, dying and resurrecting… He could have passed away for good, all this time?

He supposed he was lucky, most considered the heart and head the more acceptable place to be stabbed if you wanted to kill your enemy. 

Still, to know that he could die and not come back… 

He wouldn't mind if it was Khas. 

If it was Khas’ sword in his back, it would be the greatest honour. An all-out battle to the death. That's all he ever wanted. 

He shifted, turning so that he could face Khas. The other seemed to take it the other way, that he wasn't trusting him with his weak spot. At least, that's what the sudden tension in Khaslana’s shoulders indicated. 

He didn't say anything to imply otherwise. 

What could words do to solidify trust, when it was actions that did so? 

He would just have to work harder to become stronger. So that Khaslana didn't have to worry about his weak spot. 

Since they were on the topic of stabbing… “That day… Why did you kill her?”

The pink-haired girl with a soft smile, playing with the white-haired boy from that unnamed town they had watched burn down. 

He wondered where that boy was now…

Khaslana looked up at him. Mydei merely tilted his head—as much as he could while lying down anyway. 

“I had to,” he exhaled. “There are things I can’t explain… not because I don’t trust you. But because… I’m not allowed to.”

Perhaps that was the answer to all of his questions then. How he knew Mydei’s name, how he knew about his weak spot in the first place. 

He didn't question it, just snuggled a little closer to Khaslana’s warmth. “Good night, Khas.”

“... Good night.”

It had taken Mydei a long time to work up the courage to ask about himself. Since that day in town, he had grown curious about who he was. 

It was just after they finished a spar. Mydei and Khaslana were laying in the grass, staring up at the eternally blue sky. Well, Mydei was laying down. Khas was looming over him. 

“Again!” Mydei declared, suddenly sitting up, a grin on his face. “Until you can't lift your sword any more.” 

And Khas… Laughed. For the first time since Mydei had lived with Khaslana, he had never heard him laugh. 

He blinked, stunned by the sound — Khaslana laughing, unguarded and real. It felt like a crack in the armor, a glimpse of the man beneath.

He couldn't help but stare for a moment. Then, he laughed too. He didn't know why, but Khas’ laugh was just so infectious and unapologetic. 

He never thought Khas could express himself so freely. He hoped that there would be many more to come.

“Sorry, it’s just… You really do embody the ideals of the Kremnoans,” Khas apologised as their high died down. Mydei couldn't help but mourn it a little. Who knew if he'd hear it again.

But that word: Kremnoan. 

“Khas, am I Kremnoan..?” he asked. To his surprise, Khas didn't clam up about the details. 

“Yeah. You come from Castrum Kremnos,” he answered easily, sitting beside him. Mydei perked up at the opportunity to finally ask all his questions. 

“What's it like?” he asked, scooting closer. Khas adjusted his position, shuffling closer to him. 

“It's a kingdom full of warriors known for their strength. They value strength in a person. If they can beat you in a fight, then they are worthy of your respect.” 

Mydei smiled. That did sound like him. To think he had been separated from Castrum Kremnos his whole life, yet somehow pick up and embody their principles.

“Did you know my parents?” Mydei asked. Maybe that's how Khaslana knew his name. Maybe his parents had sent him to save him from the Sea of Souls. 

“... Not really,” Khas answered. So, that was a no then. Mydei nodded slowly. Before he could ask, Khaslana began to explain. “Your mother, Gorgo, had challenged your father, Eurypon, to a duel which ended in a deuce. From that moment, Eurypon fell in love and proposed there and then, for he had found his equal.” 

So his parents also loved fighting… He was glad they had found their equal. “And then?” he asked eagerly. Khas paused for a moment. 

“Your father was the King of Castrum Kremnos. A king is the male leader of a kingdom. Anyway, after you were born there was a prophecy…”

“A pro whatta?” 

“Propechy. Basically something that will tell you what happens in the future. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad,” Khas explained. Mydei nodded in understanding. Those sounded useful. 

“And what did the prophecy say..?” he asked. Khaslana sighed.

“That you would kill your father and end the Kremnoan Dynasty with it. Basically once you became King, you would step down and end your kingdom.” 

Mydei could guess what happened next. He bit his lip to stop himself from reacting.

“Do all prophecies come true?” he asked quietly. Khaslana hesitated.

“Only if you let it,” he said quietly. Mydei sat silently in contemplation.

On one hand, he hated the idea of proving a prophecy right. The idea of following a prewritten fate sickened him. 

But at the same time… His parents had thrown him to the Sea of Souls to ensure the prophecy didn't play out. He had been cheated out of a life free of death. Of dying countless times. 

They didn't try to raise him and make him understand. Instead, they were cowards, unworthy of calling themselves Kremnoan. Surrendering to the idea of fate that they chose such an underhand way of ending him. 

Perhaps he ended his father out of mercy in the prophesied future. Perhaps he ended the Kremnoan Dynasty because he wished to merge with another kingdom. 

The prophecy had been vague, but his parents had assumed the worst.

The only thing that his parents had done right was that they had let him meet Khaslana. Khaslana, who had acted more like a parent than his own parents ever had. Khaslana, who had taught not just how to survive, but how to live . 

If he had never met Khas, what would have become of him?

…The decision was for another day. 

If Khas saw that he had been hitting the training dummies with extra force the days that followed, he didn't mention it. 

Since that day, Mydei had been more open about his questions about Castrum Kremnos. Sometimes they'd sit over lunch and talk about it, other times it would be after an intense spar. 

“I'm really not the best person to ask. I'm not Kremnoan,” Khaslana had said quietly. Mydei had adamantly shaken his head. 

“There's no one else I could ask.” The older man had hummed and patted Mydei on the head. 

“So long as you don't believe everything I say. Investigate on your own. And just because you are Kremnoan, doesn't mean you have to embody these cultures and traditions, alright?” He had nodded eagerly. 

After they had cleared up that problem, Khaslana was more willing to teach him what he knew of the Kremoan culture.

“There is no word for ‘love’. I'm sure you've noticed. I only taught you the Common word for it,” Khas taught him. Mydei nodded. “Like I've said before, Kremnoans value strength and honour. They did not search for lovers, but for equals.” 

“Like them,” Mydei nodded. 

“Like your parents, yes,” Khaslana agreed. He scowled.

“They're not my parents,” he insisted. Not after what they had done. If anything, Khas was more like a parent. But he liked the word guardian as well. 

“Do you think you'll do the same?” Khas asked him. Mydei hummed, kicking his feet on his seat. Having an equal sounded nice. Someone he could trust in their ability to not only protect themselves but him sounded nice. 

Someone who could see eye to eye with him in battle. An equal not only in strength, but in mind. Or perhaps even someone who will surpass him. “Though they don't have a word for it, they still show affection for each other, right?” he asked. Khas nodded. “Then…Yeah! I will find my equal, someone worthy of fighting alongside me.”

Khaslana was silent. Mydei wondered if Khas had ever found an equal, where they were now. He looked so lonely… 

Would they have liked Mydei? Khas seemed to know a lot about Kremnoan culture for someone who wasn't from there… Was his equal someone from Castrum Kremnos?

“You will,” Khas began. “I’m sure of it. And perhaps you can entrust your weak spot to him, to make sure someone always has your back.”

Then…That would be Khas. Someone who he could trust with his back. Someone who bested him in skill but pushed him to go further. 

There was no word for ‘love’ in the Kremnoan dictionary. Who said to be someone’s equal, you must harbour romantic feelings for one another?

One day, he swore, he would become Khas’ equal. 

(He didn't notice Khaslana’s use of ‘him’.)

Khaslana was distracted today, as he had been for the past few weeks. Mydei always knew his guardian held back in their fights, but not to the point where Mydei won their spars.

Seeing him in the dirt, panting behind his mask didn't bring him pride. Just confusion. “Surrender,” he growled, a lance to Khaslana’s throat. He merely raised his hands above his head, and Mydei withdrew his weapon.

What could have gotten him so distracted, he couldn't help but wonder. He ignored his guardian counting out credits for another shopping trip. 

Were they going to kill another Chrysos Heir soon? Though Mydei wasn't sure who they were or their goal, he had watched Khaslana kill one all the same. They had golden blood, just like him. Just like that pink-haired girl from Aedes Elysiae. 

Apparently these golden-blooded Chrysos Heirs held onto something known as a Coreflame. And while Khaslana tried to peacefully negotiate, it often ended in bloodshed. Mydei didn't flinch the first time. 

Or perhaps the Black Tide was coming again. Too much for two people to fight, no matter how strong Khas and Mydei were. They've had to move camps multiple times now, packing up what little items they had and portal hopping to the next camp. It has been happening for years now.

Khas gave him a head pat, returning him to the present. He tried to hide the small smile the praise gave him. “Honeycakes?” he asked, still sorting through their shopping list. He nodded. 

Once they had cooled down, Mydei made lunch for them. Khaslana wasn’t a hopeless cook, but he wasn't the greatest either, so it often fell upon Mydei to cook for them. He never minded, often enjoyed the opportunity to give back to Khas for all he had done. 

They sat on the grass eating their lunch under the eternal light. The air was heavy today. He couldn't bear to break the silence. 

Khaslana did it for him. “Pack your things.” Mydei paused mid-chew. 

Did this have to do with Khas’ weird mood?

“Is the Black Tide coming closer?” he asked slowly. 

Why did it feel like Khas was slipping away?

“...Yes.”

He packed light. Things he'd need for survival. His gauntlets, lance, waterskin, a bit of rope. 

And if he put in that clay tablet from so long ago, only he would know. The purple and orange rocks were slipped into a pocket. They wouldn't weigh him down, it's fine. 

…He didn't have a good feeling about this. 

As he thought. Khas didn't pack away the tent. In fact, he didn't bring anything but his sword to tear open the portal to… Wherever it was. Mydei remained silent. 

As they stood in the forest, it felt like the silence would engulf him. This…This wasn't somewhere new to go to, the next chapter in their story. 

This was goodbye. 

“...Khas.” It wasn't a plea to stay, but one for an explanation. Why now? What changed? 

He was met with the rustle of leaves. 

“I thought you weren't one for sentimentality?” Khaslana offered in lieu of an explanation.

Mydei frowned. Right. He had asked Khas long ago to not make his ‘graduation’ sentimental. 

So this was it then. He would have to get stronger on his own. To become someone Khas could call an equal on his own. 

“Will I see you again?” he asked instead. Khaslana gripped his sword tighter, a movement so minute a normal person wouldn't notice it. 

“...Yes,” Khas replied. 

In battle, then. 

“You’ve taught me everything you could,” Mydei began. “But have I learnt enough?” 

Surely, there was something else Khas might’ve missed? How to… do something, anything . He wasn't ready to let go just yet. 

“You can learn on your own how to be stronger.”

That’s not the answer he wanted..! 

Still, Mydei just set his gaze to the ground and nodded. No time for tears. “Thank you.” 

Khaslana gave a nod in return. Nothing more.

Mydei turned away and stepped forward one foot at a time, not daring to look back. He knew Khas was still there, as he couldn't hear the portal closing. 

If he turned back now, he knew he'd run back into Khas’ arms and beg to stay. 

Hah, how unbecoming of him. There was no word for ‘flee’ in the Kremnoan dictionary. 

Fine then. He would do this. 

“Are you proud of me, Khas..?” 

The Son of Gorgo sat upon that crystal red throne, patricidal blood dripping down his lance. And yet no one bore witness to his cornation.

Here, he had power, recognition, respect. 

And yet the only thing he sought for was the approval of the deepest dark. 

Perhaps, hidden from sight, there was a dark swordsman, looking upon his disciple, whispering beneath his breath:

“ May the Son of Dawn know the dark’s pride. ” 

When he first met Phainon, there had been something familiar about him that Mydei couldn't quite place. Though that feeling had been buried and forgotten the moment they had clashed weapons. 

Phainon had been sent by Lady Goldweaver to partake in the Flame Chase journey. The very thing that Khaslana had been against.

…Perhaps not against. But something of the sorts. 

He hadn't planned on joining their cause, but the Deliverer proved to be very… persuasive.

Ten days and nights they had fought without tire, until the eve of the eleventh day where both had collapsed with neither a victor. 

From that day on, Mydei had found himself another equal. 

“You remind me of someone,” Mydei murmured, eyes locked with Phainon’s as they lay beneath the eternal dawn.

Phainon only grinned and huffed out a small laugh. “That so? Must’ve been a damn good fighter.”

“The best.” 

Oh, and he joined the Flame-Chase journey. But that wasn't so important compared to Phainon. And… If Khaslana was hunting Chrysos Heirs then… 

They may just cross paths once again. 

But as he stayed with the other Chyrsos Heirs and began to interact with them, began to learn just what the Flame Chase was about, he couldn't help but question Khaslana.

Why was his guardian trying to stop the very thing that would bring them peace? 

His intentions did not align with… Well his actions. He killed that pink-haired girl, and yet tried to negotiate with two other Chrysos Heirs. He saved Mydei and all his gold-blood despite killing those three who shared the same blood. 

And yet he was in pain every time he did so. Why then? 

Was the Era Nova they were fighting for just… A lie? 

Khas had always known too much for reasons would never know. Perhaps he was a prophet like Lady Tribbie.

If Era Nova was a lie… If Khas truly was doing the right thing then…

Joining the Flame Chase journey was the right thing to do. To help Khas one last time and repay him for their time. An easier way to give him the Coreflame.

If that meant his death, so what?

He had always hoped it would be Khaslana’s blade in his back. 

Today, though, had been their attempt at the Strife trial. Phainon’s attempt had ended in failure, and there had been a narrowly avoided death on Mydei’s part after the Deliverer stabbed him. 

The failure had shut the Deliverer in, and only a dumb competition between them had relaxed Phainon’s shoulders. 

Now, they lay in Phainon’s bed, the Deliverer absentmindedly playing with his gauntlet-clad hands. He’d take them off later, but Phainon seemed determined to forget about prior events. 

Mydei let him, until the Deliverer’s palms touched his own, and their fingers interlaced. A silent reassurance. 

“I come from a small town known as Aedes Elysiae,” Phainon began. He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement. He was probably talking about what he saw in the Strife trial. 

“It was quite peaceful. Filled with calm winds carrying the faintest scent of wheat. Tucked away in the south with the coast on one side and the forest on the other. We thought we'd never know conflict.” 

The grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly.

“My sister—Cyrene. You would've loved her. She had pink-hair and blue eyes… Maybe a bit more teal. We were supposed to travel the world the next day. To see what was outside our little farming village.”

Had. Was.

Pink-hair?

That girl… 

“When I was eleven, a dark swordsman came with the black tides. I thought he would be the hero to save us.”

No.

No no no— 

“I watched him as he approached us. Cyrene and I, we were playing in the fields. I was holding the wooden sword my father had made for me.”

That boy. The only survivor of that village he had watched burned down.

“I watched, in horror, as he- he stabbed Cyrene .” Phainon inhaled a shuddering breath but did not cry. The dawn did not shed tears. “And yet he left me. Alone. To watch as the Black Tide corrupted my friends and family. My mother, my father, Livia, my dog .” 

That boy was Phainon.

And Mydei had only stared and watched. 

He knew, realistically, it wasn't his fault. He had been freshly saved from the Sea of Souls, still traumatised in his own right, and had seen Khaslana as his saviour.

But at the same time, he had been too weak to move his feet, to help defeat the Black Tide monsters. There could’ve been more survivors if he had tried harder, if he had done better. 

Mydei wanted to believe in Khaslana’s vision. But that was when he didn't know the names of the people who died. That was when the consequences of Khaslana’s actions didn't affect him. 

But they did. And now Mydei lay here next to Phainon, who bore his heart out to his village’s murderer’s accomplice. 

“Deliverer…” he began. He never finished his sentence. Where did he begin? Did he apologise for something he had no hand in? Apologise for Khaslana’s actions? Or did he stay silent and just comfort Phainon? 

“The tenth-thoracic vertebra,” he blurted out. 

“What?” 

Fuck. 

“It's… My weak spot. The only place to end the curse of immortality.” He didn't know where he was going with this, but his lips did.  He tightened his grasp on Phainon’s hand. “Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, just as you've entrusted this weakness to me, I too shall bear my weakness to you.” 

They were equals, after all. 

“I… Must confess. I was there when it happened.” 

“ What ?” 

“On the edge of the forest. I was in the wheat fields. I… Was around nine, then. I didn't know what to do, watching this village burn down.”

“Mydei…” Phainon’s voice softened. 

“HKS! Let me finish.” The Deliverer chuckled a little and mimicked zipping his lips shut. 

“When I saw you all alone on the outskirts, the sole survivor of my guardian’s crimes—”

“I'm sorry, your what now ?” 

“—All I wanted was for you to know safety once more.” 

Silence fell between them. Until Phainon’s shoulders moved uncontrollably. Mydei panicked, he didn't mean to make him cry! 

But then, the Deliverer tilted his head back and laughed. Soft, melodic, pure. 

By the Titans, Mydei wanted to kiss him so badly. 

“Ignoring your questionable family, I don't think you've realised you are my safety,” Phainon said between giggles. He squeezed Mydei’s hand once more and calmed himself. 

Sky blue eyes looked up at him with a smile. “Mydeimos. The sword to my shield. The only person where I don't have to be ‘the Deliverer’. With you, I can just be ‘Phainon’. Why wouldn't you be my safety when you are the only person who has been able to stand by my side?”

Phainon’s hands unclasped from his own to rest upon the middle of his back, hovering around the ninth and eleventh thoracic vertebrae. “Here, right?” he asked quietly, fingertips just barely touching. Mydei tried to repress the shudder threatening to go down his spine. “Let me be your safety too, Mydeimos.”

The hand on his back slid up slowly, moving to brush away the braid so that Phainon could hold his face. Mydei let him. 

“May I?” he whispered, cupping him not gently, but firmly. Strong hands, befitting of a warrior. Befitting one of the men he called his equal.

Mydei didn't answer. Kremnoans were never one for flowery words of affection. But he tilted forward and let their foreheads rest against one another. 

He had always envisioned that they'd share their first kiss after some intense sparring session. Where Mydei or Phainon would be too consumed with adrenaline to not kiss each other stupid. Equal on the battlefield, and in other ways. 

But as their lips gently brushed against one another, and they surrendered their weaknesses to one another, Mydei couldn't imagine it any other way. 

“Is that the last box?” Phainon asked as Mydei placed the box onto his desk. The Kremnoan gave a small nod in response. 

The Deliverer hovered over his shoulder, arms twitching as if he wished to wrap them around Mydei’s waist. With a sigh, he grabbed Phainon’s arms and made him do it himself. At least the Deliverer had the audacity to be sheepish. 

“What’s inside?” he asked, lowering his head onto Mydei’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward, considering they were around the same height, but neither seemed to mind. 

“Just… Items of importance,” Mydei murmured lowly, averting eye contact as he opened the box. Phainon gave a hum of interest. 

Two shiny rocks—purple and orange, a clay tablet with Kremnoan and Common script. Beneath it, a black cloth. Mydei’s cheeks turned red as Phainon tried to hold back a laugh. Though the Deliverer hadn't made a sound, he could feel the tremor in his shoulder. 

“Quit it, HKS,” he hissed, taking out the two rocks to decorate his desk. 

“I haven't even said anything yet!” 

“You think too loudly!” 

Phainon picked up the clay tablet and snorted quietly. “Your handwriting was awful.” 

“Shut up, that was my first time.” 

The Deliverer paused for a moment as he read the second name on the tablet, but Mydei didn't notice. Instead, the Crown Prince picked up the last thing in the box: the black cloth. 

Phainon set the clay tablet propped up against the wall and returned to insistently hugging him from behind. “Is that… the Flame Reaver’s cape?” he asked slowly.  

The ends had frayed with time, but it was otherwise in perfect condition. Cherished. It had been the very cape that was draped over his head when he escaped the Sea of Souls. The thing that had taught him safety.

He hadn't brought it with him when he left Khaslana. He had just found it tucked under his chin like a blanket shortly after he had killed his father. 

He smiled fondly at the memory, the immense relief he had felt knowing Khaslana had been watching out for him from afar. 

Mydei cleared his throat awkwardly. “It… It is.” The topic of the Flame Reaver was always avoided when possible. It was… unpleasant to reminisce on fond memories while knowing Khaslana was responsible for Phainon’s suffering. 

Phainon picked up the cloth gently and draped it over Mydei’s head with a small smile. “He must have done something right, for you to have become the person that you are.” 

Mydei’s heart swelled. “Phainon—” 

“Tell… Tell me more about him,” he whispered. “I can't keep running from him forever.”

“...He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I never knew why. And though he never said it aloud, he always found a way to show that he cared.”

Phainon chuckled softly. “Sounds like a certain Kremnoan I know. Always ‘HKS’ this, ‘shut up’ that.” 

Mydei opened his mouth to retort, only to click it shut when he realised that he was about to prove Phainon right.

So he grabbed the Deliverer’s face and kissed him stupid instead. 

Khaslana gently placed Phainon beneath the arc of a bridge, safe from sight. “...I apologise in advance.” Phainon did not stir. He had merely knocked him unconscious. Just long enough so that he would not interfere. 

Perhaps it wasn't fair to not give Phainon the chance to protect Mydeimos’ weak spot, but the pain on his face when he had failed to protect his beloved had always hurt more for Khaslana, and so he would choose the lesser of the two evils. 

Khaslana took a deep breath as he headed toward Mydeimos. The day of execution had come. 

Selfishly, he did not want to come as the Executioner, Flame Reaver. He wanted to preserve Mydei’s image of him as his guardian, to continue being someone Mydei could look up to. 

So here he was, stripped of the black cloak and back in his old Deliverer costume. 

Perhaps it was cruel, killing Mydei while wearing the face of his lover, his equal, but Khaslana was nothing but selfish. 

And there Mydei was on the battlefield. Pride swelled up in his chest. Though he had been secretly watching Mydei for years, seeing how tall and strong he had gotten over the years up close was different. 

Mydeimos had come so far without him. 

He forced a smile upon his face. The way Phainon did. The way he once had back in Cycle 0. But smiles did not come to Khaslana as easily as they did before. 

“Mydei!” he cheered, greeting the Kremnoan. “How many kills did you get this time? I got fifty seven!” Phainon did get fifty seven.

“Sixty two,” Mydei replied smugly. Khas made a show of dramatically groaning, just as he had whenever his Mydeimos won their little competitions during his cycle. 

“I still feel like you’re cheating somehow, but rest assured, Mydei, next time I'll be the winner!” Mydei merely hummed, not paying attention. 

“Titans, I'm starving. Are you cooking for all of us again tonight? Please don't feed me something poisonous, I think my stomach is still feeling the after effects!” he complained, slowly leading Mydei further and further away from Okhema City. 

The Kremnoan did not answer, seemingly lost in thought and yet staring at Khaslana like a specimen under a microscope. 

Had he already realised..? 

“Mydei?” he called, waving his hand in front of the other’s face to gain his attention. The Kremnoan scowled, swatting his hand away.

“Quit it, HKS.” The words came out sharper than usual. Colder. Not the affectionate way Mydei would call Phainon. 

Because Khaslana wasn't Phainon. But here he stood, out of some selfish desire to stay cherished by Mydei.

He had known from the very beginning such a thing was impossible. 

“What’s my favourite fruit?” Mydei demanded, tone clipped and unrelenting. Khaslana blinked in confusion. 

“Pomegranate… why?” he answered with Phainon's infamous head tilt. Had he not realised it was Khaslana yet?

Perhaps he could salvage this. 

Mydei continued his barrage of questions. “Favourite colour?”

“Pink?” It had been Mydeu’s favourite colour while he had stayed with Khaslana, at least. 

“How did I escape the Sea of Souls?”

“Uh… Someone pulled you out.”

Mydei’s eyes narrowed, and Khaslana couldn't help but swallow.

“I crawled out. Remember, Deliverer?” Mydei said slowly. Khaslana’s eyes widened. He hadn't realised Mydei would've told a different story to Phainon.

What hurt more was that Mydei had tried to erase his involvement in his life. 

“Aha, I must’ve remembered wrong! History was always one of my weaknesses,” Khaslana smiled tightly. “After nine winters, you crawled out on your own as the tides receded.” 

“And afterward?” Mydei prompted. 

He forced a chuckle. “It seems to have slipped my mind…” Better to pretend to not remember then accidentally confirm a ‘false memory’.

“How… Convenient.” 

Silence settled between them. Uncomfortable and heavy. But Khaslana knew when to surrender.

“It’s good to see you, Mydeimos,” he greeted, dropping the Deliverer persona.

“Khas,” Mydei said neutrally. He swallowed. How could he still be worthy of that childhood nickname Mydei had given him? Mydei knew about the Flame Chase. So why… “Or should I call you Flame Reaver?”

He did not wish to be the Executioner. 

“Names do not concern me,” Khaslana said instead. He had no right to ask Mydei to continue using that name. His grip tightened on Dawnmamer as he sighed. “Every cycle ends like this. Dawnmaker, through your tenth thoracic vertebra. Your death, for Strife’s Coreflame.” 

“Then you must know I will do the same.”

Khaslana tried to smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Mydei would always be the same, no matter how many cycles had passed. 

Would Mydeimos have been proud, knowing that even a version of him three million cycles later could still get under his skin?

“You knew it would come to this,” Mydei accused. “And yet…”

“There is tenderness in my eyes. I'm aware.” The words of the 108 642nd Mydeimos.

Silence enveloped them. 

Mydeimos closed his eyes, and a soft, near-laugh slipped from him. Khaslana tried to offer a smile.

Even when he had tried to hide it, his love for his Mydeimos had never left. And that love poured out from the seams no matter how hard he tried when he had raised Mydei.

He had never shown Mydei love, and yet the boy had known he was loved anyway. 

Mydei grinned, punching his fist into his palm as he readied his stance. “Well then… it's time to show you what I've learnt, Khaslana .” 

Khaslana closed his eyes and exhaled, the smallest smile on his face. “I look forward to your demonstration, Mydeimos .”

In all of their other battles, he had always imagined Mydei as some… Monster to ease the pain.

But this was the child he had raised. The student he had taught. It was only fair that he saw him for what he was. 

Someone who still chased for his approval, who had always looked up at him. And now, finally, Mydei had almost caught up. 

Khaslana let the millions of Coreflames fuel him, let them consume him, and narrowed his golden gaze down at Mydei’s own. 

Almost was not enough. 

So what if he was burning himself alive? It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of all things. 

“I'll give ten thousand scars and ten thousand lives of mine to fuel the blazing sun of deliverance!” Mydei grinned manically, unknowingly echoing the words of so many Mydeimoses before him. 

“Heh, you have given… so much more than that.” Three million lives. 

When Mydei had left, it had been Khaslana on the ground, hands raised above his head in surrender. But now, it was Mydei who hit the ground, Dawnmaker through his chest as he loomed over him.

He knelt beside him, holding the Crown Prince in his arms to his chest. To hold his child one last time. 

“Hah… Well fought, Khas. You may… crown yourself in my blood,” Mydei panted slowly as the light began to leave his eyes. 

Khaslana’s eyes widened as Mydei reached up to pat his head, just as he had done to Mydei whenever the child had done something good. 

He felt himself detransform, turning back into the Deliverer.

“In the next life, I shall…once again block your path.” His hand slipped from Khaslana’s head, resting by his side. And with a smile, he uttered, “Khas… I wish you… eternal victory.”

And as those eyes slipped close, Khaslana whispered: “It was an honour to have raised you in this cycle, Mydeimos.”

May dawn’s child forever be loved.