Chapter Text
A familiar pink-haired woman strides up to a sturdy, mahogany bookshelf nestled within the walls of Castrum Kremnos’s famous library. She’s written many stories over the years, filled with her countless unique experiences and heroic adventures, and is proud to add another- albeit, a rather strange one- to this world’s collection. Hopefully, its subjects will look back on it one day and smile; especially that dear friend of hers…
The first page of this special section of her rather disoriented diary reads as follows:
All’s well that ends well.
At least, to most people, that’s how it seems. However, I’ve discovered quite a few things that say otherwise…
So let’s set the stage! See what our ‘lucky’ protagonist is dealing with before I make my next move:
- Amphoreus is a real place now; completely free of all past burdens! Well… it should be…
- The Chrysos Heir’s curses have been lifted, leaving them free to live the lives they’ve always desired! Ah, how it warms my heart to see lady Aglaea see once more… hehe, she can finally appreciate her own beauty! It’s always a shame when cute girls can’t~
- The Trailblazers also got what they came for; with their beloved Astral Express having gained more than enough fuel to warp-jump as they please for a millennia! I wonder where they’ll head next-? Perhaps when this story finally reaches its conclusion, I’ll tag along!
- My dear Stelle filled our ever-vacant position of Deliverer, helped vanquish Lygus for good, and released the data from the control of the Scepter at last- which brought about the real Era Nova. Hehe, this is why we make such good partners!
Hmm… is there anything more… ah-yes!
- Then, with the aid of the Memokeepers, and a handful of Geniuses- my what a pleasure it was to meet all them- all the problems in Amphoreus’s code had been stripped away, leaving our new place to function like a normal planet should; unbound by the Black Tide, Destruction, or the Twelve Factors, and ready to integrate with the rest of the universe! I simply can’t wait!
This leaves a relatively blank slate for the people of Amphoreus to write on, our story having finally turned to the next page!
Sure, everyone still has to get adjusted- plus there’s already quite a few power struggles breaking out- new Amphoreus is still based off the old data so all the wear and tear remains- and buildings whose structures could only hold up due to the rules of the simulation have now collapsed- so they must be fixed as well…
…but besides that, it looks like everything is in place, and Amphoreus has at last welcomed its new dawn!
Unfortunately, it seems like there’s one major issue that still hasn’t been dealt with-
-that being none other than Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.
If he can even still be called that anymore…
There’s a space between the writing on page, as if the author had left for a bit before picking the pen back up again.
I’m not quite sure what happened here, and although I’ve got a pretty good idea of who he is and what he’s done, there’s simply some blanks in my mind that need filling…
Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps the universe decided Phainon somehow hadn’t suffered enough. Perhaps when erasing the “problems” from Amphoreus, he accidentally or otherwise ended up on that list, and had to be dealt with in order to bring about the real Era Nova-
-Either way, it leads to one, miserable conclusion; not a soul alive seems to remember who Phainon is anymore. Even I’m struggling! And memory is what I’m good at!
The writing ends there, with the next page being completely blank, save for once sentence written a few days later.
Of course, Phainon has to find that out in the most embarrassing way possible… dear friend, what a story this will be!
_______________
“Castorice! Castorice!” Phainon gleefully shouts, sprinting after her upon catching a glimpse of that lilac hair in the new Marmorial market. It’s pouring like there’s no tomorrow, but he can’t give any less of a damn at this point, overjoyed to see his dear friend again after so many years.
It had been quite an experience to find her. Initially, he’d woken up in some random field, one bearing an unusual resemblance to Aedes Elysiae- yet no actual connection- and had simply wandered from there. For whatever reason, Phainon had no belongings on him except the rags on his back, so he figured he’d just roam until he found answers, struggling to remember how exactly he’d gotten there.
Along the way he’d pieced together most of what happened, having talked to many other hitchhikers and travelers who were also making their way to Okhema; although strangely, none of them seemed to recognize him.
Nevertheless, Phainon had brushed it aside, chalking it up to just them honoring Stelle as the new Deliverer, with public opinion having swung so fast in her favor. Plus, the fact that most Amphoreans likely had never even seen his face before didn’t help, so he wasn’t really deterred by their behavior.
They weren’t the people he needed to remember him anyways.
So, a week-ish of traveling later and he was back at that ever-familiar marketplace, and spotted an ever familiar friend.
Knowing she can actually touch people now, Phainon practically leaps into Castorice’s arms, giving her the warm hug she’s always longed for, uncaring of the reactions of those around them. It might have been forever, but Aeons damn it he’s gonna make up for the countless millennia of isolation she’s experienced; one hug at a time. Sure he might be squeezing her to death just a little bit, but no good hug comes without a tiny bit of suffocation, especially not one this anticipated. Despite the discomfort of the rain, Phainon hasn’t felt this at home in such a long time, oh how he can’t wait to reunite with the othe-
“Sir, please get off of me.” Castroice’s voice squeaks from underneath his crushing embrace.
Although he’s confused by her reaction, Phainon listens anyways, softening his grip just a bit. “Cass, it’s me, Phainon?” He asks, voice trembling as his hand brushes against the skin on her arm.
“I’m sorry.” Castorice replies, slowly backing away from him. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are; maybe you have the wrong person?”
By now he’s already caused a scene, but the small voice in the back of Phainon’s mind convincing him that this is just some cruel prank urges him to continue.
“This isn’t funny Castorice; I know it’s a new world and all, but you shouldn’t mess with me like that-”
He steps towards her, reaching an arm out-
-only to get it nearly cut off by a garmentmaker.
“Step away from her.” A familiar, commanding voice rings out.
Phainon nearly sobs as he sees her; Aglaea, in all her glory, right in front of him again. He looks into those once empty eyes-
-only to find pure malice staring back at him.
He hasn’t budged an inch at this point, so Aglaea yells at him again. “Step away from Lady Castorice or I will escort you out of the grounds of Ohkema myself for harrassment.”
“Aglaea, I-“
“Do not bother explaining yourself; there’s already been plenty of men thinking it’s their right to touch her now just because her curse has been lifted. Your spiel of ‘congratulations’ is nothing more than unoriginal filth. I do not want to hear it.”
Phainon gulps, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he chokes back both sadness at his situation and anger at Castorice’s as he finally steps away, in disbelief that it’s been barely a week and it’s already gotten this bad. She’s frozen in place, nervously brushing the spot on her arm where Phainon had touched her, which only makes him feel even more guilty.
“Understood.” He says quietly, voice barely above a whisper, shivering not because of the cold of the rain but due to the icy glare of the one he considers a mother.
The former hero pulls his raggedy hood over his head and trudges out of the Marketplace, feeling the gaze of a garmentmaker follow him as he leaves.
What a fantastic start to the new world this was.
________________
“It’s not that bad Phainon.” He mutters to himself, having finally found shelter from the rain in some abandoned old shed off the side of the road.
“Nobody recognizes you, and the two Heirs your dumbass finally did meet again now think you’re some womanizing creep! Terrific!” He chuckles to himself bitterly. “-I can’t even be surprised at them for coming to that conclusion either…” he muses, recalling just how ridiculous he probably seemed from their perspectives. A stranger, leaping onto Castorice like they were the best of buddies… Phainon would chase him out too had he been in Aglaea’s position; and much less kindly than she did. How Lady Goldweaver maintains that decorum of hers is beyond him…
As far as he is aware, teleslates- or ‘phones’ as the Nameless call them- actually exist now. Therefore, Aglaea has likely already informed all the other Heirs to steer clear of a white-haired weirdo who just can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.
Meaning, Phainon has to somehow earn their trust back while fixing the whole “we don’t remember you” problem, if that was even possible.
He sighs.
Easier than being Khaslana at least.
Because as bad as this seems, Phainon knows he has one thing going for him that he can never seem to run out of; his patience.
So chin up Deliverer, it’s time to engage in the most daunting task any person can undergo in their lifetime:
Making friends!