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English
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Published:
2025-12-27
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1/1
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Lost Chthonic Chid

Summary:

Charon just noticed today’s Hermes looked different: something inside his bag seemed unfamiliar. Besides letters, bottles of nectar and ambrosia, his little turtle was lying comfortably on the glitter he collected for sale. There was a tiny figure wearing a suspicious hat that looked very similar to Charon’s.

I miss Charmes I need Charmes

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Charon just noticed today’s Hermes looked different: something inside his bag seemed unfamiliar. Besides letters, bottles of nectar and ambrosia, his little turtle was lying comfortably on the glitter he collected for sale. There was a tiny figure wearing a suspicious hat that looked very similar to Charon’s.

‘Hrrrrghhhhh…!’

He interrupted Hermes’s talking; he was saying something about a mortal who tried to bargain with him. He said as if things like this were happening all the time, and the result was obvious: always another win for Hermes. He spoke with pride in his voice, not even trying to be humble about his cleverness; he was the smartest, he was the swiftest. Hermes showed himself off to Charon like a paradise bird exhibited his tail feathers.

Usually, Hermes didn’t like to be interrupted, but Charon was an exception. In fact, he liked it when Charon asked him questions, the curiosity from an apathetic, self-sufficient man, how precious, how adorable! He wanted to possess it; he wanted to steal it away from Charon so it could belong to him forever; he felt both satisfied and thirsty when he was with Charon. Hermes raised his head, his eyes followed the way Charon’s finger was pointing, saw the tip of the figure’s hat; he smiled.

‘…Oh, you mean this?’

The figure trembled when Hermes carefully grabbed it, almost like it was alive and could move around on its own will.  It was the figure of him-Charon, with the hat, the collar, the robe, even a rudimentary oar held in its tiny hand. Hermes was carrying it with him all these times, but where did he get it? Charon didn’t remember giving him something like that.

‘Hhhhssss…Arrrrghhhh?’

‘Found it on one of my shrines.’  Hermes answered, ‘Don’t know who left it there neither. Trust me, I was as confused as you when I received it, cause what between us is secretive. Anyways, I like it. You see- ‘He put this small figure to the ground, instead of falling, it stumbled for a few steps, walked to Hermes’s side, ‘-it follows my steps! I still keep it in my bag, nevertheless, because it’s much slower than I am. The good thing is, Chellen got a travel company now. There was a time when I opened my bag, saw he cuddled the little one to sleep. It was so sweet, Charon, I wish you could see it too.’

Hermes seemed satisfied with this anonymous gift. His finger poked the figure’s face intimately while he was finishing his words. Charon wondered the touch: was it as hard as bones, just like his face, or was it soft and bouncing like real skin?

The only thing he knew about the figure was that it was from the Crossroad, and it could follow Hermes’s move, probably because of some experimental spell. But just like Hermes said, their partnership remained in secret even among the Unseen. Charon sighed. He patted the figure’s head; the hat was hard, felt like wood.

“Hhhuummm…’ 

‘Yep. I bet it’s interconnected. Its hair is sculpted as well, the touch is far from yours.’

 ‘…. Aaahhhhh….’

‘Of course I did.’ Hermes laughed, ‘This is your figure, boss! By the time I had it, I wanted to know how meticulous it is. I checked the hat, the hair, the face, and the robe. Oh, that one uses real fabrics. I tried to lift it, and it hit me with its oar-Ouch!’

Its hands might be tiny, but its arms still had the power to maintain orders. Charon appreciated whoever made it. He chuckled; purple smoke became thinner.

‘Did you just laugh?’ Hermes asked suspiciously, ‘Hearing a tiny version of you hit me.’

‘Krrrr…Ssshhh…’

Charon lifted his hand to Hermes’s forehead while talking and tapped it gently with his fingertip. He controlled the intensity, made it a playful touch without any lecturing, but Hermes still whined loudly. He complained on purpose.

‘C’mon, Charon-! It’s just a messenger’s playful nature, nothing to be concerned about.’ Hermes said, rubbed his forehead exaggeratedly, as if Charon hurt him, ‘And thanks to my nature, I discovered every secret of it. The person who made it must be very familiar with you, see, although it doesn’t have any smoke around it, but when you get closer- ‘

Charon watched as Hermes held the figure’s arms and lifted it closer to his face.

He must have done it several times, because he did it smoothly. Hermes held the tiny version of Charon like a beloved pet, then he sniffed its wooden hair deeply, like it was warm fur. The figure seemed to be getting used to this; it just silently waited for Hermes to finish.

 ‘Haaahhhhhh…’ That was something Hermes often did to Charon as well; he loved to bury his head into Charon’s platinum hair, bump his nose against his neck, sniff him like a puppy. He remembered Hermes said the smoke trapped in his hair tasted special: after fusing with Charon’s body temperature, it magically quieted Hermes down and allowed him to take a nap in a lover’s arms.

Hermes looked at Charon, his eyes blinking behind the figure’s hat.

‘Nope. It is not a substitution.’ Hermes said, ‘But the smell was similar; it reminded me of you. You may think it’s the fragrance from the Crossroads, but no, that is different. It has a smell that is strongly associated with you. I get a little jealous when I think about it, who gets to know you this close other than me?’

‘Hrrrr…. Koahhhhh…?’

Hermes wasn’t jealous; he was just teasing him. Charon knew it. So, he followed his words, replied with some names as if he really knew them well. Charon found it cute when Hermes blushed at his own tricks.

And then, before Hermes started to explain, Charon pulled him into his arms. The long, soft, pale-blonde hair covered Hermes’s face; the ends tangled together. Hermes’s jaw touched the heavy collar; he dragged it down a bit so that his face could lie beside Charon’s neck.

He smelled the fragrance again; it was much stronger than the figure’s. There were no words to describe it precisely: it was a mixture of his smoke and the oil he used to take care of his hair. The creator of the figure must realized that Charon’s smoke had a smell, but the scent of his hair only belonged to Hermes. He smiled with satisfaction, kissed Charon’s neck while he was wrapped in his hair.

‘Aarrrrrr….?’ Hermes heard Charon ask him.

‘It’s different, I always know. You are…you are unique to me.’ Hermes answered. One of his arms was still holding the figure, which was squeezed by his elbow and Charon’s chest. Its wooden body pricked Hermes’s skin, reminding him of something he wanted to say to Charon from the beginning.

‘Uh, boss.’ Hermes started.

Charon looked down. Through the gap in his hair, Hermes saw purple eyes glowing with curiosity. Something he always cherished.

‘You know where to find mine, right? I mean the figure. The mortals sculptured it all the time, and I know they brought it to graves sometimes. If you asked the Shades, I bet they would give you one, because, well, I’m usually the complimentary one.’