Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The little boy was ripped out of his dreamless sleep by the feeling of pain. A harsh cry ripped out of his throat as it dug deep into his heart and spread out in white-hot tendrils towards the rest of his body. But he suppressed any other noise. If you made a sound, you'd make yourself known. If you spoke up, you were hurt more.

Only a soft sob escaped the boy as something poked and prodded into his chest, cold and sharp. Murmurs around him bled into the background as his vision danced. He doesn't remember being dragged into the hidden room in his sleep, but here he was, sickeningly small body pinned down onto the hard metal table, the blurry faces of priests and other officiants of the Temple swimming around.

At some point, he'd gone numb. Perhaps, as a way to protect the boy's mind from dissolving the way his body was, his brain had adapted to disassociating whenever he was brought here. So he didn't have to feel the pain.
He knew he wouldn't die. He was too valuable for the Temple, too important to risk losing during one of the procedures. They'd never go that far, despite how much the boy would beg and pray to whatever deity was listening, that they'd just let him drift away into peaceful eternal rest.

His mind wandered, now thinking about the other little boy. Smaller than him, Sethos his name. The boy didn't know his own name, not that it mattered to these people. He didn't know his own age. He didn’t know anything.
He wondered if Sethos could hear what went on in these hidden rooms.

For Sethos was the golden child, the one destined for greatness, the heir to the Temple of Silence. They didn't torture him. Poke and dissect his body. They didn't starve the child. The boy had watched how Bamoun cared for Sethos.

Not him, however. Never him.

He was the guinea pig. The testing dummy. He suffered, so that Sethos wouldn't. So they could witness how far they could go with their torture, and then lessen it for the younger.

Sometimes, he’d ask himself if he resented the other boy. But despite everything, his answer would remain a no. How could he? After all, it was Sethos who'd ever talked to him. It was Sethos who, despite his blissful oblivion, worried about him. Sethos was the only bright spot in the deep darkness that he went through.

And so, the reminder that he was going through all of this to protect the other boy kept him going. Maybe the little boy's sense of justice and self sacrifice had stemmed from these experiences.

.・゜゜・𓂀・゜゜・．

Cyno’s chest heaved with effort as he kept hold of the Ba fragment. Bright electro energy flickered around the room and he could see in his peripheral vision how the Traveler and Paimon had to convince Tighnari to not intervene.

With aching arms, he was able to hold the fragment up to his chest, and a pained groan escaped his lips as he pressed it further against him. It glowed brighter, almost blinding. Unintelligible whispers rang through his ears and ancient runes formed on his arms, extending up to his neck, glowing a golden hue. Awed murmurs echoed around the room, the people of the Temple watching him determinedly. He could feel one particular set of green eyes burn into him.

With a final cry and a burst of energy the fragment dissolved into his body, positioned itself deep down right into his heart, where it reunited with the first. He collapsed, falling onto his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. His vision swam and the runes on his body faded away.

The air in the room was tense now. The divine soul locked away in his body was whole once more. Over the ringing of his ears, he could hear Tighnari and the Traveler running up to him, steady hands helping him back up to his own feet.

Pained laughter erupted from the man atop the throne, at the end of the room. Bamoun cackled deliriously, eyes wide.

“Welcome, Lord Hermanubis, He who will share with us His wisdom once more! Rejoice, everyone, for our God stands before you!”

But before anyone could react, Bamoun fell into a fit of coughing, his eyes clouded over and he slumped backward. Surprised shouts and gasps rose from the crowd of onlookers and the priests that stood by his side.

“Grandfather?!” Sethos, who Cyno’d been avoiding eye contact with, rushed over to Bamoun’s side as he was carried off. Left in the room alone, Tighnari helped guide Cyno out of the main chamber and into a quiet hallway. The Traveler and Paimon trailed behind, carrying his discarded polearm.

The Forest Ranger sat him down and inspected his body for any injuries. Cyno could only lay there, mind in a daze. He faintly heard Tighnari ask him if he was hurt anywhere.

On the outside, no. Sethos was a good fighter, but Cyno’d easily avoided any harm from the other man. But how could he describe that he no longer felt like himself? That he felt like his own soul had been ripped out of him with the arrival of the second fragment? That memories that weren’t his suddenly flooded into his mind, mixing in with the whispers and moans of the now conscious entity inside of him? That a throbbing ache settled deep inside of his chest, where his heart became overwhelmed by the amount of electro energy now flowing through his veins, making the vision on his back glow brightly?

Ever so stubborn, he simply shook his head. Tighnari looked uncertain, but dropped it for now. He pulled out a waterskin, helping Cyno drink the cool liquid before settling down on the ground with him. The Traveler, who’d remained quiet all this time, sat down a little further away, deep in their own thoughts.

“Do you think Bamoun will be alright?” Paimon spoke up, to no one in particular. The Traveler shrugged.

“I don’t know how long he’s been dealing with his illness, but from the looks of it, he’s not doing well.” Tighnari shook his head.

“...cancer.” Cyno murmured. “He was diagnosed with it when we were children. I don’t know how he’s still alive.”

Footsteps sounded from nearby. Sethos approached the group, and his expression was enough for the group to assume the worst.

“...he’s gone. If you would like to stay for the funerary rite, you may. If you would like to leave, I can escort you out.” He spoke, voice hoarse. Cyno and Tighnari exchanged looks, and then glanced at the Traveler for confirmation.

“We’ll stay. It’s only right.” They stood, and Tighnari helped Cyno up.

“Very well.” Sethos turned and walked in a different direction. They followed him, passing by rooms and hallways Cyno remembered exploring with the brown haired boy in front of them. The Temple was identical to the way he’d last seen it a decade ago. He remembered the night Cyrus had taken him by the hand and they’d ran, ran as far as they could before the Temple of Silence could notice their absence. He remembered the aching feeling he’d felt as he gave a final squeeze to the younger boy’s hand. That was the last time he’d seen Sethos, until now, fourteen years later.

Cyno chased the thoughts away as they entered a new room. A casket lay in the middle, draped in a decorated cloth and an unnamed powder sprinkled upon it. An opening in the roof let in the glow of sunlight, casting solely onto the casket and illuminating the sparkling gold. The room was smaller compared to the grand chamber the duel had taken place in, and only the priests and certain members of the Temple stood around the hidden body of the leader. The trio took the opportunity to slip away into a quiet corner. The Traveler had to lock Paimon into a side hug to keep her from floating up to get a closer look.

Sethos stepped forward, and one priest veiled in robes handed him a candle, embedded with gold, and a flame matching the ones an adventurer would stumble across in an abandoned ruin, ghostly. He approached the casket, and murmured an ancient prayer. Cyno leaned over to the other two to translate as with a final deep breath, Sethos lined up the flame of the candle to the powder, which caught on fire instantly, and burned the cloth before spreading down to the material of the casket itself.

The gold and obsidian slowly started to burn, but didn’t melt as you’d expect. Rather, they slowly turned into a gentle smoke that rose up through the opening in the roof. The crowd of people all lowered their heads in respect, and the trio followed suit. Bamoun’s body burned alongside the casket, and yet no sickly smell emerged from the smoke.

After a few minutes of muttered blessings and prayers, everyone left the room. But Cyno lingered as he watched Sethos. His back was turned to him, but he could tell from his body language that something was off. Hesitantly, Cyno walked over to stand with him. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“...what do I do now?” Sethos’ voice didn’t break the silence, rather seeping into it softly. Cyno turned to glance at him. “I mean, Grandfather’s gone. My powers are gone. And you’re going to leave again. I’m not ready for this. This wasn’t how it was meant to go.”

“..I won’t leave this time. This doesn’t have to be a painful reunion, Sethos.” He crossed his arms, trying to keep his demeanor collected despite the burning that spread through his chest.

The green eyed man laughed humorlessly. “What purpose do I have left? Lead the Temple? For what? Our motives are fulfilled and yet, I’m not the one who has the fragments. You do. And you can’t stay here, you have a life outside of this Archons damned-” He stopped, hands falling to his sides.

“Don’t say that. Your purpose is not the Temple. Don’t force yourself into this-”

“You don’t get it! My whole life has been leading to this. I’ve trained. I’ve suffered. And now? I’m at the top, but there’s nothing here! I remember the way they treated you,” The mention of their shared past made Cyno’s heart ache beyond the influence of the Ba fragment, “Just so I could be safe, and now it’s all in vain! I don’t have anything left, Cyno.” His voice cracked, and Cyno resisted the urge to pull the younger into a hug. A very rare feeling for the usually stoic man, but this was Sethos. He’d grown up with him. His…little brother.

“...come to the city.”

“..what..?”

Cyno sighed softly. “Come to the city sometime. I can give you a tour around. Tighnari and I meet up with friends at Lambad’s Tavern too. It’d be good for you to socialize after all this time.”

“I can’t leave the Temple.” Sethos countered.

“Just for a day or two. I never asked you to leave.”

Sethos considered the offer for a few moments. His relationship with Cyno was crooked, but he wasn’t looking forward to spending even more time in the Temple, let alone as its leader. His shoulders slumped and he gave in, nodding. “..alright. That’d be nice.”

.・゜゜・𓂀・゜゜・．

The Traveler had offered to teleport them back to the city, but with Cyno’s weariness from the battle and consuming the fragment, combined with Tighnari’s condition from being out in the desert for too long, the blond agreed that it wouldn’t end well. But they still insisted on accompanying them back to the City. (Although Paimon didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect of having to fly that long- which the little fairy insisted did get tiring, despite the three’s shared looks of disbelief.)

So as they trudged along the sands, Cyno’s mind was focused on his lover and the hand intertwined with his, but he couldn’t help that his mind wandered back to Sethos. Cyno knew he resented him. He saw it in his eyes, when he’d held him at the tip of his spear and earned his place in history as the Temple’s first successful inheritor of Hermanubis’ power. He saw it in his eyes during Bamoun’s funeral, how despite everything he’d been raised for, Cyno got the glory. And Cyno couldn’t help but let some of his own negative thoughts seep in. He hadn’t been tortured as a child. He hadn’t been sent to the Akademiya too early for his own good, where people picked and sneered at his too-dark skin and laughed at his quiet submission. He had a better childhood than Cyno ever did, and yet he complained of his lack of purpose. When Cyno’s purpose was only ever to mold into stepping stones for little Sethos to go further in life.

But as soon as those thoughts came, a brighter, more hopeful one pushed them away. Maybe, just maybe, the two could fix their relationship and help each other heal from the past that their wounds extended from. Maybe, they could be brothers again. But only if Sethos was willing to help mend the cracks.

Chapter Text

Sethos hesitated as he stepped into Lambad's Tavern. He should go back. This wasn't right. Cyno and him weren't on the best terms. Tighnari? He was a great guy, but Sethos didn't know him either. And Cyno had said there were two others with them. But he'd already taken a day off from the Temple, and he'd gotten ready, so what's the worst that could happen, right?

With a breath he looked around and spotted that familiar bright white hair hidden underneath a large helmet. Sethos started walking to the table, and he assumed Tighnari's pointed ears must've caught his footsteps as the man turned to glance at him. Cyno followed suit, gazing at the approaching man. Something Sethos couldn't identify flickered in Cyno's eyes.

Two other men sat at the table with them, a fairly quiet, gray haired man, and a blond whom he'd heard talking from the moment he stepped in the tavern.

“...like the civil man I am, I told him that no, I can’t change the triangle base of the roof, it’s essential for the framing to stay in one piece, but the bastard- he turned and walked away! What kind of client-” The blond’s agitated voice paused as Sethos approached.

"..Good evening, everyone." He greeted, trying to ignore the way he could feel Cyno's eyes digging holes into his skin.

The blond was the first to speak up. "Sethos, right? It's nice to meet you. Cyno told us you'd be coming tonight." He smiled. "My name's Kaveh. That's Alhaitham, and you already know Tighnari." Alhaitham simply nodded in acknowledgement and Tighnari gave him a smile.

"I didn't think you'd actually come." Cyno spoke, voice level but there was a hint of something else in his voice, perhaps prodding at the unresolved conversation they'd had weeks prior.

Sethos rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't quite reach them. "Of course I did. Had to meet these supposed friends of yours, you antisocial brute." That earned a scoff from Cyno. He turned to Kaveh. “Anyway, what was that I heard, something ‘bout a client?”

“Oh, Kaveh here is an architect. He designed the Palace of Alcazarzaray and a bunch of other buildings.” Tighnari hummed, and Kaveh grumbled.

“Oh, shush. It’s not that impressive.”

“You know what is impressive, the amount of debt you were in after it.” Alhaitham added, voice monotone minus the hint of teasing that escaped it. That earned him a light punch to the shoulder from Kaveh.

The two started bickering, Alhaitham staying infuriatingly calm while Kaveh seemed to be trying not to strangle him right then and there. Sethos leaned over to Cyno, muttering. “..are they really friends or am I missing something..?”

Cyno shook his head, and a small smile tugged at his mouth. “They’re together, actually. You wouldn’t think it from the way they act, but they live together and everything.” Sethos had to take a double take at the two arguing men. When he did though, he could see how they bickered like an old married couple, and he suppressed a laugh.

“In fact, they actually were the ones who got me and Cy together.” Tighnari added, and Sethos noticed the movement of their hands intertwining. He smiled.

But something else tugged at his heart, something cold that he’d never admit. Sethos was nowhere near homophobic. Though it wasn’t exactly praised in the Temple, he’d never judge another person regarding the gender they love. So why did he feel a cruel ache deep down as he observed the couple he was sitting next to?

Perhaps it was envy. Bitter envy of a life he’d never had. Envy of Cyno. Who, even though his childhood was terrible, had built himself a new life. A secure position as one of Sumeru’s strongest men. He made friends, found a lover; a new family. He got a proper education at the Akademiya. He has both Ba fragments and, Al-Ahmar forbid, Sethos wanted to take them from him right now. Reach deep into his chest, pull out the fragments, watch his toned skin flood in crimson and his beating heart stop, his fiery eyes to dull and- fuck, what is wrong with him?

Sethos wanted to be Cyno. He wanted to hate him. He wanted to be his friend, his brother. He wanted a lot of things and shit, was it all so confusing.

What do you make of someone who knows you like no other, and yet has been missing for so long? What do you make of someone who is a parallel to you, and yet so different?

When he attuned back into the conversation, he realized a waiter had approached their table and now the group was placing orders. His disturbing train of thought had caused an unwanted nausea, and so he ordered something light. Pita pockets.

“Come on, Sethos,” Kaveh huffed a laugh as the waiter left with their orders. “First time in Sumeru City, and you order Pita pockets? Really?”

Sethos shook his head and tried a smile. “I’m just not really hungry.”

“Next time you should definitely try out the Shawarma wraps. Best food you’ll find here.”

Alhaitham, wiping his mouth with a napkin, spoke up. “In my opinion, the fish rolls are more nutritious and offer more flavor than the wraps. Kaveh here simply likes to consume lots of dough at any given chance, hence his objectively incorrect statement.”

Tighnari muffled a laugh and even Cyno’s mouth turned up as Kaveh groaned. “What is with you and insulting me whenever you get the opportunity?! Just shut it for once!”

“I’ll save my praises for when you’ll give me a more satisfactory response.” The table went quiet before even Cyno couldn't hold back a snicker at the way Kaveh’s face flushed. Sethos bit his lip to keep from laughing and Tighnari cleared his throat, though he seemed to be hiding a smile.

“None of us need to know what kinds of things you get involved with in that shared bed of yours.” This time it was Alhaitham’s turn to look down at his plate and pick at the fish rolls, though his expression revealed nothing.

“You all seem like a fun bunch.” Sethos pointed out, lifting his wine glass to his mouth.

“If this is fun, you’ll have to play some TCG with us at some point.” Cyno shook his head. “But I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed to learn your chances of winning are little to none.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sethos raised an eyebrow.

“You have no prior experience nor knowledge of the game.” Cyno crossed his arms. “Especially since you’ve never visited the city and experienced a real match.”

“Moving on before Cyno gets caught up in TCG, why haven’t you visited the city before?” Tighnari asked, leaning his head on his hand. Sethos’ throat threatened to close up as he processed the question, and he felt the slightest difference in Cyno’s posture that only someone who grew up with him would notice.

“Ah, well…” He struggled to come up with a proper response. He couldn’t just say, ‘I was raised in a cult where I was experimented on and given the powers of an ancient god, and so I couldn’t leave!’ Could he? “...I just never got the opportunity. A lot of work at the Temple, y’know..”

“For like, over twenty years? You sure? I mean, I get that this place gets crowded and all, but it’s certainly wonderful.” Kaveh added. Sethos felt that lump lodged in his throat grow bigger, like he’d swallowed a pile of sand and it had gotten clogged in there. He struggled to find an excuse, reasoning, anything-

Cyno came to his rescue.

“Sethos told me he’d planned to visit a lot earlier, but with the previous leader’s illness, he had more on his hands as the heir.”

Sethos blinked, a bit surprised at the smooth half-lie, but nodded quickly, trying to chase away the pressure building up in his chest. "R-right, my late grandfather was sick for a few years, and so a lot of the work got put on me. I couldn’t afford any breaks.”

“My condolences.” Alhaitham spoke up, and Kaveh nodded. “I’m sorry so much was put on you. It would’ve been nice to meet you before, but hey, you’re here now! I’m glad you’ve gotten time to yourself, even as the leader of the Temple.”

Sethos could only nod, but it felt like his heart was being squeezed out of his chest. He’s overreacting. They didn’t even say anything. So why does he feel so sick all of the sudden? His face felt hot, and he felt a cold prick as tears threatened to collect in his eyes, which now fell to his lap as he stared down. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck-

“Sethos?” Tighnari’s voice sounded distant, muffled. The brown haired man stood up suddenly, pushing away from the table and shaking his head.

“I’m sorry- I- I have to-” Without further explanation, he quickly left the tavern, ducking his face as he passed by other customers.

.・゜゜・𓂀・゜゜・．

“Sethos!” Cyno called out, concern seeping into his voice as he watched the younger man rush out of the tavern.

“Did- did I say something wrong?-” Kaveh asked, a look of worry across his face. Tighnari shook his head and Alhaitham placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna go after him. Uh- here,” He dropped a few coins of Mora on the table despite Tighnari’s protests. “Sorry this got interrupted. Good night, everyone.”

He turned and ran after Sethos.

To say he was worried was an understatement. He knew what loss, envy, pain could do to someone after being piled on them, like multiple hits to the face with no rest in between. He’d felt it all too. So Cyno walked out of the tavern, the cool night air a sudden contrast to the warm tavern and the loud atmosphere inside.

Cyno quickly spotted Sethos sitting on the ground of the outcropping not too far from the tavern, legs draping over the side. Even with his back turned, Cyno knew him well enough to guess his expression, furrowed brows and tight lips, sad eyes. Some things never change, after all. What he didn’t know however, is how to comfort him.

Cyno was never good with emotions, or people, even his own thoughts. That’s Tighnari’s thing. Kaveh’s thing. Hell, even Alhaitham could offer logic as a source of comfort. He’d seen the scribe do it with Kaveh. But him? Nothing. It made him feel awkward. He could listen; he would always listen, but never respond, never comfort. He wasn’t cold. When he’d first met Collei, his heart had broken for the little girl who was so much like him. And yet, he could offer no comfort. Only silent protection, silent understanding. Cyno regretted it, especially when Collei would speak and act hesitantly around him, even after all this time.

He wasn’t about to let his relationship with Sethos turn out the same. So he took a breath, and walked over to him.