Chapter Text
He found it on the outskirts of a small town ravaged by the Black Tide, shivering and letting out a pitiful sneeze. By ‘it’, he meant the child. The child who looked an awful lot like the Deliverer of Amphoreus and his fellow Chrysos Heir, down to his moonlit hair and sky blue eyes.
But this boy… His eyes no longer held light within them. They weren’t full of life like Phainon’s. There was no room for wonder in those eyes, innocence having long died. Mydei couldn’t help but wonder what this child had gone through, what those eyes had seen to look at the world like that.
The town was long gone. Remnants of buildings covered in snow with no one, not even the creatures of the Black Tide within sight. The boy, evidently, wasn’t from around here. No signs of frostburn despite the endless blanket of white around them. His cloths were far too thin for such weather, though. An ill-prepared traveller.
The child stared up at him blankly, draped in a black cloak that trailed behind them onto the wet snow. Mydei stared back before crouching down to their height. “Do you want to go to Okhema with me?” The boy looked at him for a moment, seemingly weighing his options. That small tilt of his head as he thought, just like Phainon. The child didn’t trust him, shifting slightly as he wrapped his cloak around himself tighter.
Eventually, the Crown Prince grew tired of waiting for an answer that would evidently not come. “I’m going to carry you,” he warned before picking them up, weight wresting in his arms. Panicked at the sudden movement, the boy’s arms wrapped around his neck to stay secure. Mydei adjusted the child’s cloak. “Good?” A small nod.
Nothing was said on the trip back, but the child didn’t fall asleep, far too tense. High alert. The boy seemed to tolerate him at least, snuggling into his shoulder for warmth, not comfort. The only noises made were Mydei’s footsteps and their soft breathing.
Should he ask questions? He didn’t see the child willingly answering him, due to weariness and distrust. He knew he often came across as… Intimidating toward children, but that usually changed after he played with them for a little bit.
Mydei wasn’t sure if this child even knew what ‘play’ was.
He usually wasn’t one to talk, but if it let the child’s guard down enough to get some information, it would be fine. “I’m Mydeimos.” The boy looked up at him for a moment before turning back to look at the road ahead.
It was a long journey back to Okhema.
The Deliverer was the first to greet him. Sulking almost like a puppy in his absence. How cute. He was purchasing a handful of pomegranates in Marmoreal Market, somehow sensing Mydei as soon as he was within eyesight. “Mydeimos, you’ve returned!” he grinned, running toward the Kremnoan Prince. Mydei gave a small hum as the Deliverer stopped before him. Azure eyes flitted between Mydei and the child in his arms, whose head was buried in Mydei’s neck. “I see you’ve brought back a survivor,” he said slowly.
“He has yet to give me his name,” Mydei explained. From this angle, Phainon could only see the black cloak that covered the child’s body and head, and pale legs dangling from beneath. “I was hoping you’d be able to talk to him.” He lifted the child away from his chest, he let out a small, pathetic whimper and clung to his neck, shaking his head. Ah.
Phainon was undeterred. “Haha, I imagine he’s quite shy and disorientated. Okhema is quite different from Aidonia after all.” Mydei hummed in agreement. Perhaps, with time, the child would open up a little more.
“There was no one else there,” he explained, walking toward his residence. Obediently, Phainon fell into step with him. “But no bodies either. I imagine they’ve all fled somewhere safer… But he was still there.”
“I see…” Phainon murmured. “Little one, did you have a family?” he asked the small bundle in Mydei’s arms. The boy, who still hadn’t shown his face to Phainon, shook his head. Phainon smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “That’s alright. Mydeimos will find you a new family to take care of you.”
Immediately, the boy’s hold around Mydei’s neck tightened. He let out a small grunt, feeling the way the kid quivered. “In the meantime, you can stay with me,” he reassured. Reluctantly, the boy’s grip around his neck yielded.
Phainon accompanied him on the walk back to his residence. He talked of all the things that had happened during Mydei’s expedition. Updates on Council Meetings, how the chimeras in the Garden of Life were holding up, how the Kremnoan children came to bother the Deliverer demanding their Prince. Mydei listened attentively, holding the boy close, feeling the way his chest raised up and down, fast asleep.
“After you, Mydeimos,” Phainon grinned, unlocking his door with the spare key and opening it for him. Mydei gave a roll of his eyes, but didn’t complain as he walked inside. The door shut behind him, and the Delivered followed him into his room. Mydei gently laid the sleeping kid onto the kline, tucking him in. Phainon paused as he took in the boy’s features.
“He… Looks like me,” Phainon mumbled, brushing the child’s bangs out of his face. He sat on the kline near the child’s side, staring hard enough to burn a hole in the poor child. Mydei watched the Deliverer’s expression, unable to decipher what was going on inside his head.
“I don’t suppose you had an affair I was unaware of?” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Phainon tensed at that, shaking his head. An odd reaction. He sat beside the Deliverer as they contemplated what to do with him.
“We should find him a family,” Phainon argues after a few moments of silence. Mydei shakes his head.
“He feels safer with me.”
“We’re Chrysos Heirs, Mydei. We… We don’t have time for such… distractions that might hinder the Flame Chase. Once he gets used to Okhema, I’m sure we can find him a nice family,” Phainon insists. Mydei falls silent, taking in Phainon’s pleading expression. What a scripted response.
“You’re not obligated to care for him. He’ll stay with me for the time being, and if he doesn’t want to find a new family by the end, then so be it.”
“But—”
“Deliverer. It’s final.”
Phainon opened his mouth to try and argue further, but paused when he heard a small groan from the child. They both turned toward the boy, hoping that their argument hadn’t somehow roused from his sleep. Thankfully, the boy just rolled over onto his side and fell asleep again. Mydei turned to Phainon once more, frowning.
“Is there a reason you’re so adamant on getting rid of him so quickly?” he asked. Phainon fisted the kline tensely, knuckles slowly turning white. His silence said enough.
“I just… He looks too similar to me. And he refused to give you a name. Don’t you think it’s suspicious?” Mydei could only stare at Phainon in disbelief. He sighed, long and low.
“You think a child is a threat, Deliverer?”
“Mydei, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Then why are you so against his mere existence, Deliverer?” Mydei spat. Phainon couldn’t look him in the eyes, turning back toward the child.
A defenceless, nameless child. An orphan from a small town in Aidonia. One who reminded him of Phainon. How could anyone like that be a threat? He couldn’t understand where the Deliverer was coming from. Clearly, he didn’t care about the kid being a ‘distraction’, considering how fond he seemed to be of the child, so what was it?
What was going on in the Deliverer’s head?
“I just… I have this gut feeling that this kid is hiding something. He refused to show his face to me. He seems too… close to you despite having only met you today. Sure, you saved him but… You were in Aidonia. He must’ve been in the snow for hours, and yet not a touch of frostbite. Mydeimos, please, the kid is clearly hiding something.”
Mydei stopped listening to Phainon’s pleading after that. All he could think of was the cold depths of the water. Sinking down, down, down. Of tentacles wrapping around his legs, his arms, his throats. Of voices calling out for him in the depths of the Sea of Souls.
All he could think about was the warm crackle of a fire, of a man sitting beside him, explaining why, why he was thrown out, why he lived nine years alone in the Sea of Souls. Of a prophecy that doomed Castrum Kremnos’ royalty. Of his father, King Eurypon’s fear.
All he could think of was his father beneath his mother’s lance. Of the corruption finally letting go of his father. Of the recognition and guilt in his eyes as he gave his dying breath.
No child could possibly be born a danger to this world. No prophecy could dictate their fate.
They moulded them into one.
“I don’t care, Deliverer, if you’re piss-scared of the kid, or whatever it is he may be hiding. Where’s your honour? Your pride? Titans, he’s a kid. Maybe he stumbled upon the village, maybe that was why he didn’t have frostbite. Maybe he was afraid of you, maybe trusts me more. You’re jumping to too many assumptions.”
Phainon stayed silent for a moment. He turned away from Mydei and stared at the child for a moment. He reached out, slipping the black hood off the child’s face to get a better look at him. The same hair colour, same face, same style. Mydei watched as the Deliverer frowned in confusion before sighing.
“Alright, we’re keeping him,” Phainon declared.
Mydei tilted his head slightly. “We?”
Phainon chuckles. “Surely you didn’t think I’d let you raise him on your own? We’re a team, Mydei.” For a moment, Mydei stared before smiling.
“Haah, then I suggest you start with learning to cook something other than a salad,” he answered, smug.
“Hey!” Phainon laughed, nudging Mydei. “My salads are the best! Nutritional and essential for growth!”
“Whatever you say.”
Things would be alright.
“Morning, little one,” Phainon greeted the child. The boy rubbed his eyes sleepily before freezing when he made eye contact with him. Yellow pupils widened in fear, backing into the kline. Phainon’s smile tightened. This wasn’t distrust, this was fear. There was something wrong with this kid. Everything about him was the same as Phainon, and yet his eyes held no life in them.
“Do you have a name?” he asked slowly, keeping his distance. The kid glanced away toward the window before eventually shaking his head. Phainon smiled. “Alright, how about I give you one then?” He walked toward the kline and sat on it. Once more, the kid refused to make eye contact, biting their lower lip. An old habit of Phainon’s when he wanted to lie about something. It had taken a while to grow out of it. He had always felt so guilty about lying as a kid.
“Khaslana.”
The kid flinched at the name, proving Phainon’s suspicions. The kid definitely was him. Perhaps Oronyx had messed something up? Was this version of Phainon from another timeline? One where he didn’t come to Okhema? But why the distrust in himself? What was he trying to hide, from Phainon specifically?
The kid had no problem clinging to Mydei. It was Phainon he was afraid of.
He didn’t push it. Instead, he chuckled. “I see you like the name! Come, let’s get you dressed.” He dressed Khaslana in chlamys before guiding him into the kitchen, where Mydei was cooking his famous honeycakes.
Khaslana was holding onto the black cloak that was far too big for his body, dragging it all over the floor. Phainon gently took it from him and held it up, frowning. It was even big for him. It would better fit someone like Chartonus, but Phainon highly doubted Khaslana would’ve met Chartonus. Never mind the fact Chartonus would never wear something like this.
He placed it on a small chair, indicating for Khaslana to sit there. The boy climbed onto the chair and sat, waiting patiently for Mydei to finish cooking the honeycakes. His eyes seemed to glaze over, momentarily, no longer present in the room. Phainon frowned. What was that other timeline like, he wondered? What made Khaslana like this?
The memory of Aedes Elysiae burning down still traumatised him. Cyrene had tricked him into going, into leaving her behind. He had only watched, legs frozen, as Cyrene got consumed by the Black Tide. They had been planning to journey together before the Black Tide hit. Now… Now it was only Phainon.
But despite all of that, he had kept his optimism. He had buried his pain beneath layers of smiles and laughs. What made Khaslana different? And why did Phainon feel so uneasy with him? Mydei was right, Khaslana was nothing but a child. So what was this… hatred toward him?
“You must be hungry,” Mydei interrupted, placing the plate of honeycakes in front of Khaslana. Khaslana’s eyes widened as he stared at the stack of honeycakes. A generous drizzle and delicious fruits to balance it out. Phainon quietly thanked Mydei as he placed a plate of honeycakes in front of him as well.
Phainon cut up the honeycakes for Khaslana, who was still avoiding eye contact with him. He seemed to be avoiding Mydei now too, silently nibbling on the slice of honeycake Phainon offered him. As if Khaslana felt he didn’t deserve to be sitting at this table, eating Mydei’s food. Phainon cleared his throat, eager to fill the silence.
“He was happy with Khaslana,” Phainon smiled. He watched Mydei’s expression soften as he looked towards the boy picking at his food.
“Khaslana?” he called. Reluctantly, Khaslana looked up at Mydei. “Is it good?” A singular nod. A typical response, yet somehow it felt more closed off than it had a few hours ago. Phainon smiled awkwardly and decided to focus on his food. So much for trying to fill the silence.
They take Khaslana out for a walk around Okhema. Phainon and Mydei needed to buy supplies for Khaslana’s temporary stay anyway. The kid refused to hold onto Mydei or Phainon’s hands, but ensured to stay in step with them.
Whispers echoed around Marmoreal Market. “Lord Phainon and Lord Mydei had a kid.” He couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the idea. Children with Mydeimos… Perhaps when Era Nova came, he would allow himself such a selfish wish. Ah, but did Mydei even like him back..?
Mydei stocked up on groceries and children’s clothes while Phainon took Khaslana to the fruit stall to buy him grapes, a staple in Aedes Elysiae. Khaslana held onto the bunch with a distant look in his eyes. Perhaps he remembered too.
When they reunited with Mydei, he was carrying several bags. Phainon eagerly stepped in to take some off. “Here, let me help.”
“Hmph, I’m fine,” he insisted, and yet gave them over anyway. Phainon grinned.
On the way back to Mydei’s residence, Khaslana had almost finished eating all of the grapes, fingers covered in sticky juice and little bits of grape skin stuck to his face. Phainon couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t remember being so messy as a kid,” he said fondly, watching Khaslana blush.
“You still are,” Mydei commented, unpacking the groceries.
“Uncalled for, but unfortunately true,” Phainon laughed. He helped Khaslana onto a stool so that he could wash his hands and face. Khaslana blinked up at him, wincing as Phainon towelled off his face. They stared at each other for a moment, and Phainon softened. He patted Khaslana’s head before helping him down the stool.
“Mydei bought some toys for you to play with,” Phainon said, leading Khaslana to the open space. Khaslana stared at the assortment of toys on the floor. Soft toys, puzzles, and a wooden sword. He took the sword into his lap and just sat there. Phainon stared expectantly, waiting for Khaslana to do something. As a kid, Phainon loved playing heroes with the little wooden sword his father had carved just for him.
So why wasn’t Khaslana doing anything?
“..Phainon, cloak,” Khaslana whispered, voice high and squeaky. Phainon had never given Khaslana his name, but this would be around the age he had decided to take on the name of ‘Phainon’ instead of Khaslana.
More importantly, Khaslana had finally spoken. To him of all people!
Phainon quickly got up to get the cloak he had left on the chair before they had left to go shopping. He handed the cloak back to Khaslana, who made little grabby hands before wrapping himself in the dark fabric. The sword was turned over and over in Khaslana’s little hands. Phainon finally stepped away, trusting Khaslana to not somehow die in the next fifteen minutes.
“He spoke to me,” Phainon said as he entered the kitchen. Mydei was already preparing the ingredients for dinner. He looked up once he registered Phainon’s words. “He was just asking for his cloak.”
“I see,” Mydei nodded, returning back to chopping. But Phainon could tell. Mydei was relieved at the news. Phainon nudged Mydei over, taking the knife from his hands. Eventually, the Crown Prince stepped away from the cutting board and focused on the other portion of the prep. They fell into a domestic silence.
For a moment, Phainon could convince himself that this was Era Nova. Cooking dinner in the kitchen with Mydei, and a kid in the other room. The soft hum to a tune stuck in Phainon’s head, and no Flame Chase to worry about. Domestic bliss. Merely a fantasy.
Once he brought Era Nova, Mydeimos would return to his duties as the Crown Prince and properly ascend the throne. Phainon would attend his coronation, and then leave for Aedes Elysiae and live a peaceful farming life, no longer the Deliverer.
But once the Deliverer role was discarded, Phainon was nothing more than a small country boy. They were leagues apart. The Kremnoans wouldn’t want someone like him to rule alongside Mydeimos… Mydeimos would find a worthy Queen, probably of Kremnoan descent. They’d have a beautiful spar during the ceremony, and Phainon would be his best man, cheering him on from the sidelines.
And then, Phainon would take the long journey home on Dromas, with no one but the stars to hear his mourning.
Ah, he was bleeding.
Tentatively, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked the golden blood, setting the knife down. By some kind of sixth sense, Mydei turned around and pried Phainon’s finger out of his mouth. “HKS! Don’t you know that’s unsanitary? There’s a sink right beside you!” He sheepishly grinned, watching Mydei drag him toward the sink and running the wound under warm water. He watched Mydei go into the bathroom and re-emerge with a bandage.
“Mydei, it’s just a small cut—”
“Shut up.” The bandage was wrapped securely around his finger, Mydei’s gauntlets rubbing the ends to ensure it stuck together. He pulled away, yet all Phainon could focus on was the cool metal of Mydeimos’ gauntlets holding his hand.
Khaslana poked his head into the kitchen. Both of them immediately turned to the kid, who pointed toward the grapes, likely wanting to snack. Mydei shook his head. “Dinner will be ready soon, if it weren’t for this HKS getting distracted.”
“Haha, sorry, Mydei…”
Khaslana’s expression seemed neutral, but they both could tell. He was pouting. How cute. Khaslana turned back toward the living room to play, allowing Mydei and Phainon to refocus on cooking. In a few days, Khaslana would be gone, and this domesticity would be over. He would just have to enjoy it while it lasts.
When dinner was about to be served, Phainon walked into the living room to find Khaslana curled up on the kline, fast asleep, black cloak wrapped around him like a cocoon. He didn’t remember being this cute as a kid, seriously. Phainon gently shook Khaslana awake, who groaned softly but eventually opened his eyes. “Come on, Mydei made dinner.”
Dinner passed in relative silence, but it wasn’t suffocating like brunch. It was peaceful, and Khaslana ate a little quicker than before, taking proper mouthfuls rather than little nibbles. He helped Mydei wash up before leaving.
“Not going to stay the night?” Mydei asked, holding Khaslana’s hand in the doorway. Phainon shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face.
“I’m sure! There wouldn’t be enough room for me anyway, considering Khaslana’s taking the guest room.” Mydei looked as if he was going to argue, but seemed to change his mind.
“Good night, Deliverer,” he said instead.
“Good night, Mydeimos.”
He waved goodbye to Mydei. Khaslana’s hands stayed tightly gripped around the wooden sword and his cloak, but he did make eye contact with Phainon.
Perhaps things truly would be alright.