Chapter Text
The west wind fluttered the flowers, like soft wisps of the soul, decorating the patio like a flower shop.
The clear blue sky, with no clouds in sight with no chance dampening the mood. Kephale’s Dawn Device rested over far waters, the glowing lines spelling out: 34.
The ocean waves are almost still, barely folding over each other, soaking the scar of the black tide. The sweet floral scent wafting along the breeze like honey.
Gentle peaceful days like these seem like a cruel joke. It shouldn’t be like this, not when it's the Gommage. Especially not this one.
The water ripples, distorting Mydeimos’ reflection, the stone sinks into the inky depths. Mydei lets out a heavy sigh, tossing another smooth stone into the water.
His feet hanging over the edge and grazing the surface. Light knocking against the wooden pillar near the entrance, asking for permission that didn’t need to be asked for.
“You know little lion, if you delay any longer, you’ll miss your chance to say goodbye.” Cipher says, a tinge of sorrow in her playful voice. Mydei doesn’t turn back, his hands feel clammy, and he lets out another sigh. “If you sigh again, it should be when we’re at the river of souls.”
This time, Mydei turns to glare at Cipher, he picks himself off the ground, his hand sliding over to the table beside him grabbing a flower crown of baby blue flowers. It's…poorly made, messy, and a bit too big to wear as a crown, all thanks to his skills.
Cipher eyes the crown, shaking her head, “You two, still head over heels since the day I met yall.”
She turns, looking back to beckon him along, “Let's go, Phainon should be at town square.” Mydei joins her, the sun still shining bright in the sky, just like his hopeful eyes. And the clouds are almost as soft and white as his fluffy hair. “You know, Phainon looks so much younger than you.”
“Is that your way of calling me old?” Mydei asks, adjusting the flowers. Cipher as always, trying to get on his nerves. Maybe, it's to take his mind off of everything, or, she’s trying to take Phainon's spot of being his number one annoyance.
Cipher stops in her tracks, pulling out her dagger, spinning it around like an arrogant assassin. “Do you think if we left a year prior we wouldn’t be in this mess?”
She hops over the ledge of the bridge, using that instead of the path, she balances with careful precision to not fall in the water. “Maybe, we’d all still be here…”
“Get down, Cipher, let's just get there in time.” Mydei walks past her, wishing he said more, but pity is not what she needs.
And more than that, Phainon is nearly a breath away from him. Cipher gives a resigned smile, sliding off the stone ledge.
Sheathing her dagger, “You two should've been born in the same year.” She mutters, before running to catch up to Mydei. “And should’ve never broken up.”
“We both knew what we wanted, Cipher.” Mydei said, looking away from her. “It wouldn't have worked out in the end.”
“I call bull.’ Cipher groans, and Mydei knew she was right.
The town square fluttered with the petals the color red and white. A solemn reminder of what's coming; but also a hopeful light that promises freedom.
The tree branches dance in the wind, and the red petals scatter, cluttering the stone pathy of the plaza.
Phainon is there, talking to his friends, a flower garland of red and white adorning his neck, accompanying that choker that he always insisted he’d wear.
They part as Mydei arrives, Cipher hurried off to the orphanage to help the kids- or the ‘kittens’ as she called them.
They were lively, adorable, Mydeimos wondered what it would've been like to cherish his own. But, with life fading away, it would've been a cruel decision for all of them.
Phainon notices Mydei, a playful smirk appearing on his face. “Mydei, such lovely weather we have today.” Phainon meets Mydei halfway, “I wouldn’t have wanted the sky to weep during the Gommage, it would’ve… made today so much more depressing.” Phainon laughs.
It wasn’t very genuine, but it was nearly identical to one, he seemed to have gotten better at faking his positivity over the years.
But still, the twinkling in his eyes never went away, or his endearing little habits of picking the skin around his thumbs when nervous, folding his hands together when he’s restless, or asking to spar when sad.
But every word still held meaning, even if covered in a sugar coated persona. So, he holds them close to his heart.
“You still have no skill for poems.” Mydei says, the silence between them is light, and comforting. “Besides, there's no need to be poetic with me.”
“Well, Cas is busy, so someone needs to take her spot.” Phainon adjusts the choker right above his sun tattoo- a sign when he’s nervous, and uncomfortable. “What do you have there?”
“May I?” Mydei asked, presenting the wobbly flower crown of forget me nots. Mydei sweats a bit, maybe he should have been like the others and given Phainon a rose for his floral garland.
Another flower that's straightforward enough for Mydei, instead of the ones that have grim meanings.
Mydei clears his throat, retracting the ugly flower crown, "Sorry, it's not very well made. Forget it.” But Phainon's hands stop him, an airy laugh falling from his lips.
“No. You weaved this yourself. I want to wear it, it's beautiful Mydeimos.” Mydei almost forgets to exhale, it's been a while since Phainon used his full name, still enunciating every syllable with affection.
The same way even when they were together, butterfly kisses, and warm in the embrace of each other, sweet nothings whispering against their ears.
That was in the past now.
Phainon guides Mydei’s hands over his own head, as the flower crown flops over his head, like a thin bird nest. Phainon adjusts it so it would sit securely on his head. “So, how do I look?” He asks, posing like he’s a model in a painting.
“Gorgeous as always, Phainon.”
Phainon punches his arm, “Gommage day got into your head?” His dazzling eyes darken as his eyelashes created a shadow over the sun in his eyes.
Of course, no matter how sunny today is, the storm is just about to arrive.
He extends his hand, offering it to Mydei. “Would you care to escort me to the harbor?”
Mydei’s heart aches, “Of course, Deliverer.” He sets his hand on top of Phainon's.
The square buzzed with chatter as people spent time with loved ones, sending them gifts of garlands and kisses. People piled up furniture and old belongings they wouldn’t need, and the sun walked down the aisle of the sky just a little longer.
Stalls with the same flowers popped up along the roads with people buying them as last gifts.
The smell of warm spices, faint incense smoke, and the always present thin salty air, they firmly hold hands, and Mydei dreads to let go.
Mydei and Phainon point to the streets, reminiscing about the past. “Don’t you feel scared?” Mydei asks, laying his head on top of Phainon’s.
“Do you remember how I always wanted to be a hero?” Phainon says, Mydei only hums in agreement. “I wanted to get out there and change the world, maybe even join you in the expedition now, or the year prior.”
“But alas, I’m still here in Okhama.” Phainon looks up at Mydei, caressing his cheek with his callused hands, still soft and comforting to Mydei.
“33 years is enough for me.” Phainon smiles, another lie today. His eyes are glossy with hidden tears, but Mydei doesn’t push. It's his Phainon after all. “Especially when it's with you.”
Mydei shared the same sentiment. But, a life without Phainon, is not a life worth living. Would it even be living for Mydei?
No, not one bit.
“Besides, I think 33 will be victorious.” Phainon taps Mydei on his nose, “After all, they have you with your ridiculous body.”
“I should've known you would bring that up.” Mydei groans, bonking Phainon on the head., “You never shut up about my body.”
“It's because you like flaunting it around for no reason.” Phainon tries his best Mydei impression. “Oh look at me, I'm half naked and going off to the most dangerous continent where the slighted scratch can kill me!”
“You Idiot.” Mydei says, grinding his teeth together.
“Your idiot.”
The crows echo throughout the trees outside of the city, watchers that had also survived through the scaring of the black tide.
Benevolent, intelligent and wary creatures. Phainon wouldn't be surprised if they also lived on the island a sea away.
Hopefully, the explorers would be just as crafty as these aviation friends.
Journalists, write of the upcoming expedition. Detailing the members, their skills, and who they are.
“There's less people willing to join the expeditions. I hope this is the last.” Mydei mutters. Disappointed creeping up in his voice.
“Hopefully. If not, then before the teens.’ Mydei shutters at Phainon's words, just imagining the young ones having to go out, or staying here with no hope sends a shiver down his spine.
Phainon notices Mydei's fear, and drags him away to take things off his mind.
There, an empty canvas. So he drags Mydei along, “I see you haven't gotten your creative juices flowing.” Phainon observes,
if Okhama wasn’t such a small town, and the people didn’t communicate, then Phainon would’ve maybe been seen as insensitive.
Which would’ve been a little true, but still, not Phainon’s intent at all.
“Oh it's nothing, people don’t enjoy portraits even if the Paintress has nothing to do with them.” Aphera scoffs, “What are you lovebirds doing?”
“Nothing much, just spending time before our big day.” Mydei winces at the use of ‘love birds’ if only it were really true. Phainon chuckles, eyes her flower garlands. “Do you wish to finish your painting?”
“I do, a reminder that we lived. If I can't, then maybe my memory will? Would you two help me? I need inspiration.” She asks, Phainon nudges Mydei a bit, and he sends him back a look that screams, "if you want to, I have no objections.”
“Of course we’ll help, what would you like us to do?” Phainon answers. Such a golden retriever, this one. But, he'll indulge just a while longer.
Iron, the faint scent of sparks filled the air as two swords clashed with each other, a dodge, a parry, and a promise. Phainon sliced the air. Mydei ducks.
A smile landed on his face. It was like they were in their youth again. Back when everything was carefree, with time to dilly dally.
So beautiful.
Mydei charged forward. Blocking Phainon’s attack. So unlike their usual fighting styles, he ran his blade along Phainon's. Knocking him backwards.
Mydei must not want to hurt him, Phainon hums to himself, as Mydei throws this weapon. Almost grazing Phainon's cheek and spilling blood. But it misses by a hair.
How charming.
Clang! Shing! Clank!
At the end of the dance, Aphera clasps her hands together, spinning the canvas for them to gawk in awe. She tips her hat, and spins the paintbrush around in her hands.
“So much better than the Paintress eh?”
The portrait didn’t contain any of their metals meeting each other. Strokes colored the once blank space, intent, soul and admiration for the craft melted the colors together seamlessly.
Not a fight, but a dance.
It not only captured the moment, the motion, but love and devotion.
Truely, a most wonderful piece. “I hope you two live forever with this.” Mydei says, intwinging his fingers with Phainon’s.
Nothing but silk spun lies and dyed rosy pink like a sun kissed dawn. Mydei's eyes lingered on the painted Phainon, then, to his real Phainon.
One in the same, yet, still so very different. Nothing can beat the real thing. It's like looking through a one way mirror. Seeing yourself in the reflection, but something on the other side is spying, and it's wearing your face.
“So will you too, Mydeimos.” Aphera says. She bows, carefully taking her portrait to the auction house before the Gommage.
They say their goodbyes, wishing each other the best. Phainon leans on Mydei’s side. “Why don't you talk more? Cat got your tongue?”
“You just seem to not get enough of talking.” Mydei grumbles. Gently pushing Phainon off from leaning on him.
“There's just so much I want to say.” Phainon giggles, “Or do you think I'm able to rap and get all the words out then?” He jokes. Starting to poorly beat-box.
“Spare the world of your tone-deaf antics.” Mydei adds,rolling his eyes, elbowing Phainon in the ribs.
“Are you insisting that you're my world?” Mydei’s heart skips a beat. His stomach sinking ever deeper. He holds back the hope rising in his chest.
“That painting of us, it was nice. Real pretty.” Mydei says, squeezing his hand. Feeling the warmth of his hand.
It was clean, fresh, like laundry sun bleached and dried.
Phainon reciprocates the gesture. “Not everyday Crown Prince Mydeimos finds something pretty.” Phainon reaches out, plucking a white daisy from a large flower pot, presenting it to Mydei.
“Does this meet your standards my prince?” He asks, a cheeky grin on his face, he bows with exaggerated movement. Like he's a peacock or something.
“No, a certain someone raised the bar for what's considered pretty to me.” Mydeimos takes the daisy, twisting it into a ring.
He takes Phainon's hand, sliding it on his finger. “But if that someone thinks it pretty, then I too, feel the same way.”
Phainon scoffs, “How corny. Where did you learn that?”
“You taught me this.” Mydei says, fiddling with his own hair, “You are just being gloomy that you can't connect the dots.”
“Loser.”
“Stupid.”
They continue their date, meeting Cipher with a handful of documents, and a parade of children. Crowding around her. “Hey hey, kittens, go to your parents for now, m’kay?”
And with that, not to anger big sis Ciphy, they scatter. She glares at Phainon. “What? I didn't say anything.” he raises his hands defensively in a surrender.
“Ah but you thought of it. We can hear your thoughts through the ocean.” Cipher bites back. Mydei cannot help but agree with her. Phainon glares at the traitor that threw him under.
He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve!
Phainon rolls his eyes, it's no use trying to convince them, “You could say that. What are you doing, Cipher?"
“Helping the kittens. Many will be alone after this.” Cipher pushes a kid to walk to the harbor. “I’ll see you at the expedition port, little lion.”
She says, and she turns to Phainon, “And you, I’ll miss you.”
“I'll miss you too.” Phainon reaches out, ruffling her hair until it sticks out all messily. Her cowlicks popping out.
She gasps, trying to control her tangled hair. Stomping off, muttering about how crazy old people can be.
Dusk is rising, and the Gommage is soon. They walk to the docks, where many are gathered. The ocean waxes over itself, like ripples in a bucket.
“You know, I think the docks here are inspired by Aedes Elysiae.” Phainon breathes. The warm fading sunlight makes him shine like gold. Reminiscing is like a cup of tea.
He sat down on the pier. Picking up a small stone on the wooden planks. Tossing it into the sea, and breaking the surface.
Mydei hums, “Then the walls are Castrum Kremnos inspired.” He picks up another stone, juggling it before throwing it into the water too.
“Never said they weren't.” Phainon murmurs, looking off in the distance to Kephale’s dawn device.“Maybe she's also trapped in this prison, her time dwindling like ours.”
Mydei stares at the golden numbers. “Copying Cyrene?”
“Yeah. She always said such empathetic words to the enemy. Always putting herself into their shoes like she experienced it herself.” Phainon stops, looking at the sides of the pathway. He holds up his hand. “Wait there, I have a gift for you.”
Phainon pulls out a gift from behind a flower pot. “Wouldn't someone have stolen that?” Mydei asks, skeptically.
“Nuh uh! I wrote- ‘For Mydei only, Phainon will hunt you down if you take’- on the wrapping” He hands Mydei the package. “For the expedition, I asked the blacksmith to help me make it for your expedition.”
Mydei unwraps the gift, with two gleaming gauntlets. “Thank you.. but didn't he die during expedition 39?" Mydei points out.
“Ah, ah ah! Before the blacksmith passed, he made it himself. I only helped a bit. I adjusted the size quite a bit.”
Mydei holds them close to his heart, sliding them into his bag. “Thank you, I'll use them well.”
They walk out further, on the edge, with their small community watching the sky. “The Paintress will paint a new number soon.”
A hush falls over the crowd, and across the sea, the Paintress emerges from the core of the Dawn device. The clouds turn to ash, and dark smoke billions from the scar from the black tide. The rosy dusk bleeds into a bloody red.
The Paintress crawls as if she's chained up, over to the numbers, 34, and suddenly it felt as if he and Phainon were the only ones standing there.
People scream as it feels as they step foot in a puddle, no- the whole ocean. But they stand afloat. The veil of evernight cascades over the sky, like silk over a lamp
The Paintress climbs around the orb, as if she's trying to search for escape, but eventually, she reaches the number.
They hold their breath, Phainon hugging Mydei close. The clock chimes in his ears, heavy tolls echo in his ears, his heart pounding.
This is it.
The Paintress stretches her hands out, erasing the number. Then, she inscribes the new number.
The world held its breath.
33.
The people around them crumble away into petals of red and white.
Smoke pouring out from the scar. Screams of panic rip through the stale air.
The fog is dense. Bitter, rotting, decayed. And the scent is ugly.
Cold, freezing cold. Like the blizzards of Adonia.
Sulfur pours out from within, and the Dawn Device pulses, plunging this world into near complete darkness.
Mydei holds Phainon closer. “Mydei?” his hands, they're as cold as this empty sea of flowers.
He’s shaking. Both of them. “Phainon…” He kisses Phainon's knuckles, trying to warm him up.
Phainon reaches out. Caressing Mydei's cheek. Wiping away a tear. “Hey, it's..” He swallows, “...Going to be alright.” He rubs Mydei's back, comforting him.
The frozen string made his cheeks burn, and tears ran down his face. His heart was kicking at his ribs cage.
“Stay. Stay with me.” He pleads. It's not enough, there isn't anything here without you.
Petals flutter from Phainon's neck. “Mydei.” It starts breaking off, away from his skin and flesh.
Painless. As he's heard. And it is, for Phainon, physically at least. He watches as his skin flutters away like dandelions in the wind.
They hug each other close. Pressing their foreheads together. Phainon whispers, softly. As if his voice would shatter Mydei in a million pieces.
“I guess I won't be here to see that new tomorrow. So be sure to tell me all about it in the next life. Okay?" Phainon whispers that dreaded goodbye. Holding out his pinky.
Mydei shakes Phainon's shoulders, “No. This isn't goodbye you hear me.”
Mydei tries to embrace Phainon that one last time, but then, his body flourishes in those red and white petals.
The Paintress shrinks back into the dawn device. Its white hue returned and shone like a candle in the dark.
Then, Phainon is gone. Just a couple of petals in the wind, the blue flowers flowing with the remains. Some cascading down onto the empty waters.
Mydei collapses to his knees, a blue bud catching his eye.
Hesitantly, he reaches out, picking it up. Then suddenly, he's back. An empty harbor, with piles of flowers. Red and white.
There's less people now. And there is more to go later on.
Cipher kneels down besides Mydei. Looking off at the sunset. And new golden numbers. “It seems, expedition 33 is very soon.” She glances over at him. “Are you ready?”
Mydei cups the flower. It's tiny in his hands. When he pokes it, it opens up, revealing the yellow sun, just like his eyes.
This world is unfair.
Mydeimos sniffs, shielding his face from the world.
Why? Why can he stay with him? He wants him in this life.
Mydei nods, trying to wipe the tear stains off his face. “Yeah.” His voice hoarse, Cipher must have heard it, but chose to ignore it. “Ready for our new tomorrow.”
The night is cold, and Mydei exhales, watching his breath in puffs.
“Penny for your thoughts my friend?” Hephaestion slides up next to Mydei, passing him a quarter.
“You seem to have given me 24 cents more, Hephaestion.” Mydei flicks the coin back to his friend.
“What's on your mind? The expedition scaries?” Hephaestion pasta him on the back, “If only drank, then maybe you’d be buzzed enough to be relaxed.”
“Arriving on the continent with a hangover sounds like a nightmare.”
“Well, Leonnius seems to think differently.” They look over at the other tents, where two others sit at a table, lit by a lamp drinking away. Hephaestion notices his friends' lowered resolve.
He pats his back, “Hey…is this about…”
Phainon.
Hephaestion bites back that name. “Well, I'll be with Lady Hyacine. I’ve got medical supplies for her.” He smirks before adding in, “Then, drinking my woes away.”
Mydei gives a low chuckle, nudging Hephaestion a bit. “Alright, just try to sober up beforehand.”
“That also sounds worse than drinking.” Hephaestion calls, walking off to the docks, following the traces of moonlight.
Mydeimos knocks gently on the table, catching Leonnius and Peucesta’s attention.
“Why our dear Mydei- hic! -mos has joined us.” Leonnius slurred. He raises the bottle of wine, swirling it around. “Saved you a bottle.”
“How do you manage to drink so much today?” Mydei questioned. “You clearly can't hold your liquor.”
“No better than you.” Peucesta commented, sipping on his glass. He reached over the table, tossing a small bottle to Mydei. “Pomegranate, used up my last few coins for it.”
He gladly takes it. “Thanks.”
“Take a seat?” Peucesta asks, pulling Leonnius back from wandering away and sitting him down. The lamp flickers, one, twice, and thrice.
Peucesta takes Leonnius’ bottle away from him. Place it farther at the end of the table. He then pulls out another chair, offering it to Mydei.
So, Mydei takes it, sitting down, just as Hephaestion arrives. “Kind of like old times, right?” Leonnius pours Hephaestion a glass.
“Just missing two pieces of the puzzle.” Mydei sighs, taking a swig of his pomegranate juice. It's tart, and wakes him, takes him back to his nerves.
Ptolemy…Perdikkas…
He’ll bring glory to their graves. He promises.
He doesn't feel as fuzzy anymore. He has his friends with him. So, he knows he'll be alright.
His hands fall to his left hand, feeling that small bud on his ring finger.
“Haha well, we’ll probably meet them soon.” Hephaestion laughs. “Although, they’d beat me up if they heard me say that.”
“I can beat you for them.” Leonnius says, cracking his fists.
Peucesta empties his cup. “Slow down. At this rate, you’d be out for the count when we need you.”
He pulls out his Lyre, “So, how about a song to lift our moods, and send a prayer to whatever God who's willing to put in a good word for our dear Leo.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I agree.”
“Hey!”
Peucesta starts to strum a tune. “Then it's settled, a song about tomorrow.”
They raise their glasses and cheers. Clinking the glasses together.
The melody soothes the air, tension melting away like butter on a hot pan. His body doesn't feel cold anymore, the company chasing the chills away.
As the song resides, Mydeimos finds himself walking along the docks, where Cipher sits on the edge.
Mydeimos knocks on one of the poles, asking for permission. He can hear Cipher sigh, and she scoots over to the side. He joins her, staring at the pale moon, and calm waters.
A peaceful night, dark clouds chased away but the sweet salty breeze. The doc sways, bouncing up and down.
“Hey.” Mydei says, finding a loose piece of wood and handing it to her.
“Hey.” Cipher takes it, throwing it into the sea. It bobs with the slight waves, floating steadily.
Mydei shifts his body weight, so he's laying on his side. “You know, you can stay with Castorice. Right here.”
“And be like him? No. I want to do something too.” Cipher huffs. Mydei flinches at his mention. Cipher picks the skin off her thumbs, “Sorry, insensitive of me.”
“No, no. It's okay.” Mydei watches the crows flap across the sky, landing onto the trees to rest. “You have a place here, no one would shame you.”
“But it's not Dolos. I have you four- two,” Cipher corrects herself. “But you're leaving, and Princess Homebody is always busy, and everyone besides you guys only see a thief that mooched off Lady Ag- Goldweaver.” Cipher gasps, taking in a deep breath of air from her rant.
“Hmm, then I guess we'll have to stick together. And stay alive for Castorice.”
Cipher sinks deeper into her body, resting her hand on her knees. She tilts her head to look at Mydei. “Thats your false confidence talking, isn't it?”
“Maybe.” Mydei admits.
Cipher whistles, “Then your turn to rant to me.”
“I miss him already. And I feel that everyone is avoiding saying his name to not upset me.” Mydei leans back, facing the sky. “But it also feels like it's erasing that fact that he existed too.”
“I feel you.”
The piece of wood flips over from choppy waves, the wet side glossy, highlighed by the moon. “You know, this is just like the calm before the storm.” Mydei mutters.
“I bet you that we’re already in the eye.” Sharp heels clack against the wooden dock. They both turn to see Castorice. Her hair tied up into a neat high ponytail and in a clean black suit. She's put together, and calm.
Just like Aglaea.
“I wanted to find you guys before you left.” She hands both of them leather bound journals. “The triplets wanted you to record everything that happened on the island.”
“Thanks Cas.”
Cipher nods as she tucks the journal away into her pocket. “Yeah, thanks.” Shake checks her watch, “It's almost time to hear your speech, nervous?”
Castorice takes a piece of hair behind her ear, shuffling her feet. “Nothing like how you guys are feeling,” She takes a deep breath, “Let's go. No time to delay.”
Explorers stand tall as Castorice takes a stand at the podium. Cipher leans in the shadows, and Mydei is surrounded by his brothers in arms.
“Explorers, I'll keep it brief.” Castorice cleared her throat, taking the time to look at each and everyone of them. She stands up straight, fixing her posture. “We have endured loss like no other. Our friends, families, lovers, and neighbors.”
“We fight not to only free ourselves from our dwindling lives, but to avenge all who have fallen for our cause.”
Mydei’s finger brushes the soft petals on his finger, it slides down to feel the stems wrapped around it.
Cipher stirs, watching Castorice like an owl.
“So don't give up, when one falls, we shall move on. There will be time to grieve, time to wonder, and time to laugh,” Castorice raises her fist, followed by the people. “But that time is not today, but tomorrow!”
The crowd erupts in cheers. “For tomorrow!”
They board the ships, casting themselves into unsteady waters. Okhama fading into the distance.