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Ever since Mydei had decided to “indulge” this meister into becoming his partner, it’s been an interesting decision on his part.
Mydei believed this partnership would only be whenever they were needed on a mission. A simple one-and-done thing.
Find. Fight. Take the soul. And walk home (which was in different directions, mind you!) Rinse and repeat.
Yet this meister is just on his ass!
He had tried to subtly tell this thick-headed meister to leave him alone. But he just won't take the hint! Seriously?! He already treated the meister to food when they first met. And that was when he told his conditions of what it means to be his meister. One of them being limiting their interactions as much as possible.
He’s not here to make friends. He’s here to achieve his goal as quickly as possible. He can’t afford something like a meister to hold him back. It irked him that so many things at the DWMA are “partner” locked (for his case, “meister-locked”). It was so annoying that he had to find out that some reading material was locked behind such a system. (Why was a cookbook locked behind such a bizarre system?!)
He just can’t be alone.
“Oh Mydei!”
If there was a god up there, end his misery.
Their mission required them to be with another weapon-meister pair. A pink-teal-haired meister by the name of Hycine and the purple-haired scythe weapon, Castorice.
They were a polite pair. The scythe weapon is very quiet but polite. The meister is bubbly and gentle. But that wasn’t what caught Mydeimos attention. Mydeimos could help but look at the enormous, chubby white bird flying around and perched on the pink-haired meister.
He’s never seen such a chunky bird in his life! The meister explained this was their little dove, Ica. Or as she called it, Little Ica. But it’s hard to believe that the dove was anything but little! (It was jaw-dropping to see the meister barely flinch when Little Ica just perched on her shoulder and cozied up in said area. Not to say she wasn’t strong. There is no sexism in the Kremnoan language. Mydeimos just never seen such a bird before! Especially of that size!)
Though the dove looked well-taken care of. Pristine feathers, flying freely, even perching on its owner’s shoulder, were all indicators of a good physical and mental state. He wonders how those feathers would feel if he were to hold the creature. Would it be soft? Tough?
Would Hyacine be alright if he fed Ica? Maybe even wonder what kind of foods Ica eats (But in the back of his mind, he’d believe an astronomical amount. Is the bird even healthy? Mydeimos isn’t really sure.)
Focus, Mydeimos! There is no time for these things. You have one goal in mind. You can not indulge yourself!
Right. What are they doing?
“Mydei! Weapon! Please?!” The pathetic white-haired meister squealed, dodging an axe swing from a newly born keshin.
Right. This guy.
He scoffs. “What? Couldn’t keep up with them? Shame.”
“We told the girls we would distract them while they got the requested item! Forgive me, your Highness, that I’m running around like a headless chicken while you’re perched up on your branch throne.” Glancing at the meister, Mydeimos saw his state of nearly avoiding axe swings. It’s quite comical the way his meister begged him.
“What happened to your precious stick?”
The white-haired meister was a peculiar one. While they were a meister-weapon pair, someone wielding a regular weapon seemed out of place. Not forbidden, but odd. So, it was odd that this meister had another weapon on hand. And his weapon of choice was a greatsword. A great sword of fine craftsmanship. Mydeimos can’t deny that it wasn't a bad idea that the white-haired meister has a weapon. Being completely reliant on your weapon partner can set up blind spots for the pair and ultimately cost them their lives. So Mydeimos can give credit where credit’s due. This meister had prior battle experience.
And like any seasoned warrior, he never leaves without it. Though he holds this weapon as if it’s his lifeline. He didn’t ask the meister why he was holding such a weapon. And why should he? Once he reaches his goal, he may never see that meister ever again. It wouldn’t be impossible to see him in passing, but it’ll be rare enough after everything was over.
“Don’t you remember? Dawnbringer under maintenance! I was telling you that! But you wanted to go on the mission and get more souls!” The meister whined.
Did he? He couldn’t recall such information. After trying to recall it, hearing the near misses and the begging of the white-haired meister, he sighed in defeat as he sat up on the branch. So what if he can’t remember? The noise of the meister is probably the cause of breaking his concentration.
While he feels slightly bad about the white-haired meister’s predicament, he has faith in his abilities. He wouldn’t exactly say it in this way, but the meister lasted longer than anyone he has faced in that academy. And right now, this meister seems to be at his limit.
Mydeimos wasn’t so cruel. He’d give the meister a little bit of pity.
“Mydei! Please!”
“Alright, fine! Reconvene at the shack so you can get your bearings together.”
Mydeimos saw the white-haired meister nod as they both got to the shed. (This meister was running faster than him. Once again, he’s picked quite a comical meister.)
“Had fun seeing me run like a headless chicken, my Lord?”
“Enough talk. Let’s just get this over with.” Mydeimos sighs as an orange glow surrounds his body and a gold polearm with red markings along the pole. (Mydeimos tried to explain to the meister how it's a type of spear prominent to his people called a “Dory” Spear. Yet the idiot kept talking about “swimming” and a strange blue fish.)
As the polearm floated in front of the white-haired meister, he got into position to handle a polearm. But things became not so simple.
“AH!” The meister hissed as he quickly tossed the demon weapon aside.
Frankly annoyed at his meister for handling him like an idiot, the weapon animatedly shook as if to yell at him. “Hey! What are you playing at?!”
“Mydei…you’re quite hot.” This perverted-
“Now’s not the time to be unbearable! The keshin isn’t stupid. I sensed it move towards our direction, probably due to your scream-” Both heard a roar as the door of the shack rustled. Crude-shaped wood chips flying as a now axe-shaped hole appeared at the door. “Now it’s chopping at the door as we speak!”
“No. I mean, you’re too hot…you burned my hands.” The meister said with a pained voice.
“What?!”
Sure enough, Mydeimos saw the meister’s hand. Even though the meister held him for only a second, his hands were bright red. A tinge of smoke coming off them.
What’s going on? Mydeimos has never heard of this ever happening! Why? Why? Why?
Why is he unintentionally hurting his meister? He caused pain to someone who hasn’t taken that dark path towards a keshin. Is he any better than his father? Using people as tools for his revenge? Is that any better than what his father had done? Did Mydeimos become the very thing he swore not to be?
“Well,” the white-haired meister said, breaking the weapon’s internal crisis, “never thought these would come in handy.” His meister says, wincing as he grabs something in his pocket. A blur of a thick material graced the white-haired meister’s hands.
“Gloves?”
“Well, how else am I supposed to hold you? Never thought Aglaea’s reprimands of “always being prepared would come in handy.”
“But your hands…they’re-,” Mydeimos couldn’t help but look at his meister’s covered hands. It’s burning through the material, but it’s thick enough to cause his meister pain. That material won’t last. What if I hurt you again? Am I already hurting you?
“Fine. It’s fine, Mydeimos. Let’s deal with the threat ahead of us, right?” The white-haired meister says, with a smile. As if to reassure Mydeimos that everything would be alright.
Yet, why did his meister feel so closed off?
“Dissonance. That’s what happened.” Lady Tribios, the only witch of the DWMA here, told them.
Mydeimos was surprised that a witch resided in a place where they use their own kind as a way to form power weapons. Could she stomach that kind of thing? But supposedly, she made a deal with the Headmaster, and now she’s here supporting the students and staff. One of their many professors and faculty members here.
Mydeimos can’t help but respect Lady Tribios, not as a teacher but as a person. It couldn’t have been easy to seek refuge in the one place you know could very well meet your end. If only he could have had that same courage when he faced him that day.
“Dissonance?” Mydei questioned. This can’t be good. He glanced over the white-haired meister, a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. His eyes looked as if they knew what was wrong.
Was he so inadequate that even his meister kept information from him?
“Yes. There’s a lot of technical stuff, Dei. But the gist of it is that because your souls aren’t aligned, you both can’t perform soul resonance and hence-”
“He can’t even touch me in my weapon form?” Lady Tribios nodded.
“What can we do?” The meister says in a serious tone that makes the blonde weapon doubt that this is his meister.
With the snap of Lady Tribios’ fingers, the room transformed. It was dark now. Candles being the only light source. Mydeimos couldn’t help but smell the room. There was no smell, yet it felt strangely calming.
Candles. His teacher, Krateros, back home would tell him stories of his mother. He’d never met his mother before. But the way Krateros spoke of his mother, he couldn’t help but feel he was talking about a living, breathing person.
Not someone who met their end much too soon.
His mother loved candles. Loved making them especially. She loved the idea that a bit of pain or challenge can make something useful. Practical. Beautiful.
He’d wonder if she knew the future of her life, would she change anything? Would she still have him, knowing his birth was ultimately her undoing? Already weak from just giving birth, as her child was taken from her? Protecting her small, helpless baby from her love’s transgressions against his own flesh and blood?
His teacher tells him of her life anecdotes. How his parents met. How they loved. How his father wasn’t the bastard he was now. And how… easily her life was snuffed out by the man she loved.
He didn’t want to believe it. Yet nothing says the truth when his father just blatantly said it in Mydeimos’ face.
The day his demon weapon powers appeared.
“Are these those special candles, Tribbie?! The one that strengthens resonance? Though I heard from Aglaea that they’re aroma candles? I didn’t really smell anything?”
Mydeimos couldn’t help but blurt out, “So you know these things too? What else are you hiding from me?”
“What are you talking about? Hiding?”
“You know about the resonance from the moment you burn your hands. You know about these candles. Really, what kind of meister hides things from their weapon partner?”
“…I would never hide things from you. For the resonance, that was on me as a meister, not on you. Clearly, I needed to work on things.”
“So what? Leaving me in the dark was your idea of “working on things”?"
“I wasn’t leaving you in the dark! I’m telling you it’s on me. Not you.”
“Is that how you see it? Or you think I’m just so weak that I’m unable to handle the truth?”
“Mydeimos.” That serious tone again. Mydeimos tsked.
Fine. Be that way.
‘It seems that their resonance is getting weaker. Oh, I hope Snowy and Dei can resolve this matter of the heart soon. Ah, I have an idea!’
“It seems that what you both need is a team bonding exercise!”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“As you probably have seen, the DWMA is hosting a charity dance. I would like you two to be a part of the committee that helps out.”
“LADY TRIB- Lady Tribios. I apologize, but I fail to see the merit of this… activity.”
“I mean, I don’t mind helping the committee out. After all, I’m already a part of the committee. But Tribbie, I wouldn’t want Mydeimos to do this as he’s already busy with something else.”
‘Do you think you’re better than me? I’ll show you!’ Mydeimos thought.
“Actually, a change of pace is a great idea, Lady Tribios. I’ll gladly accept this task. There is no “give up” in the Kremnoan Dictionary. If this HKS can do this, I believe I’m more than qualified.”
“Hey!”
“Excellent! As the advisor of the committee, welcome! Not only will it strengthen your resonance, but you’ll be able to meet new friends!”
As Lady Tribios says this, Mydeimos can’t help but regret his choice. It wasn’t that he minded helping out. But he had his own goal to worry about. Even though he knows that wasn’t all that’s keeping him from enjoying “student life” at the DWMA. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that this guy always knew what buttons to push to get Mydeimos into a competitive mood.
He’ll get the upper hand this time!
Mark his words!
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Mydeimos was right to regret joining the Committee.
“I don’t understand why you’re upset when I’m just giving you a suggestion.”
“I’m not taking advice from someone with poor fashion taste.“
“Purple and yellow go great!”
“This is a charity party! It has to have class, not your yellow purple abomination!”
“Tell you want? Challenge me to the hot sauna in town! Whoever can stay for longer can decide the colors!”
“Bring it! You’re on!”
Turned out Mydeimos won with the white-haired youth on the floor, pointing at Mydeimos. The committee laughed as the meister kept saying how unfair Mydeimos was (as if having less clothing gave him the advantage. Yet it was his own fault for wearing inappropriate clothes to the sauna!)
Then just the other day -
“Mydei, let me do it! I can cut straighter than you.”
“Who’s the one with the blade, HKS? I believe I know more about how to cut. Besides, this was the task that was assigned to me.”
“But I can do it better! Just let me-”
“Hey! Wait-”
The banner ended up ripping. Mydeimos (and the white-haired idiot whom he forced to bow his head) apologize for ruining their supplies. The student body didn’t mind, as not only did they have extra materials, but it wasn’t intentional.
Why was this meister always causing so much trouble for him?!
The dance had come together well. And once again, Mydeimos had to apologize for ruining some of the props (because of that HKS!), the committee was very kind and forgiving of his actions. In fact, they were more friendly towards him as his apology was accompanied by cookies, and they seemed to like it (seeing as a few want the recipe).
The student body at the DWMA didn’t avoid him as much anymore. To some, he had a thing called “moe gap”. He wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. But at least he didn’t have a difficult time asking for help at the library or having the cashier run from him.
Even Lady Aglaea was kind enough to make him an outfit for the charity. (Something about as a “thank you for dealing with his meister”.)
His outfit felt natural yet foreign. A mix of Kremnoan and Okeman style. A black ruffled collared shirt over a black fitted coat. The cape of the coat is accented with red and gold. And to complete the outfit, long leather boots with gray pants.
Not only was Lady Aglaea one of Okhema’s finest meisters the DWMA had produced, but she started her tailoring business as a side gig. Her business became a household name and practically an honor to wear her clothes.
He feels awkward in this outfit. It seems wasted on someone like him. But he can quietly admit that it fits him like a glove. Which makes sense after all, Lady Aglaea had it tailored made for him.
While this party seems nice, he feels out of place. Not to mention, it reminds him of his father’s “parties”. When it came to those parties, he’d much rather enjoy the outside breeze. His eyes glanced over towards part of the area full of dancing and music. He notices a balcony off to the side.
Perhaps it would be a good area to see the stars. Mydeimos walked towards the balcony. And he was right.
You could see the stars in all their radiance.
Leaning over the ledge, he could hear footsteps coming towards him. Assuming he was right, the person who just came over would be-
“What are you doing over here? Didn’t expect you to be alone? I would think this would be a setting you thrive in.”
“Ha. Well, perhaps you just don’t know much about me. But if it satisfies your curiosity, the stars look beautiful tonight. I’d be a waste to not enjoy it.”
“That’s something I can agree with.” He chuckles softly, looking longingly at the stars next to Mydeimos. “The stars, no matter where you look, will always be the same sky someone else looks at. Isn’t that a lovely thought?”
Mydeimos let out a harsh breath as if not to indulge the meister’s question. Said meister chuckled at the weapon’s response. And they sat there. Enjoying the stars and wind as company between the weapon-meister pairing.
Taking a glance at the meister, he cleaned up nicely. Lady Aglaea probably forbade him from his favorite color combination and put him in a similar outfit to Mydeimos. Just more of a black and white color scheme and gold accents. (He wonders why Lady Aglaea gave them similar outfits. Maybe it’s due to them being a weapon-meister pair? Otherwise, what other reason was there?)
“Have someone waiting for you back? The meister said, breaking the silence.”
“If there is?” What was this meister’s angle? Not that he was angry about such a question. It just surprised him. Though he had a feeling his shock sounded accusing.
“No need for hostility! Just making conversation. It’s just… nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yes. Nice that someone’s waiting back for you… I wonder what that’s like?” Mydeimos frowned at that. What? Did this guy have no family?
“…Are they gone? Your family?” Mydeimos blurted. His eyes widened.
Idiot! Don’t you know there are some things you can’t ask? Such topics as a person's salary or “Hey, are your parents dead?” Were you just born yesterday?!
“I don’t know.” The meister quietly says.
“Don’t know? Are you an orphan?”
Curiosity has always been something he needs to get a leash on. And his own theories. Such as Lady Aglaea being his adoptive mother. It makes sense. It would explain the relationship with Lady Aglaea, then.
“Maybe? I don’t really know…anything about my past. All I remember is that I was from a place called Aedes Elysiae. I can’t tell you what or where that is. But then Aglaea and Tribbie found me out on the road, and I’ve been at the DWMA all this time.” Tribbie? Right, Lady Tribios can make copies of herself, and one of those copies is named Tribbie.
“According to them, it seemed like I was fighting my way from wherever I came from with Dawnbringer in hand. Maybe I do have family out there. I can’t remember, and I couldn’t find out. I wasn’t allowed to leave.” The white-haired meister sighs in frustration. Okay, so not adopted? Maybe?
“They wouldn’t tell me why. Just that it was for my own safety. I didn’t understand. I still don't understand why. But Tribbie said if I can become a great meister and turn my weapon partner into a death scythe, I would be strong enough to learn the truth.” He couldn’t help but say with a bittersweet smile.
“I had tried finding weapon partners, and they all were- “ He pauses. “-amazing people. But I felt I just couldn’t trust them as much on the battlefield. It’s not that I had no faith in their abilities, but they never felt right. Which occurred to me, could I really protect us both if I had such thoughts? It’s more than likely I’d do more bad than good. Besides, I refuse to use someone just so I can get a chance to get back to my family or just… chasing after something that might not exist. And if something truly had happened,” He frowned, and a look of horror rushed upon his face, “what would I tell their family? I robbed a family of their, well, family. All because of my negligence as a meister.”
“What’s even worse is…What if I die not knowing where I came from? I had to have a mom and dad? Maybe even a sister or brother, right?” His face still held that look, yet it was turning to that once again bittersweet smile.
“And after so many people, I believed it would be best… if I didn’t have a weapon partner. That I would be forever stuck here. And that would be fine. No use in dragging someone down with me. Besides, I have Dawnbringer with me. It’s been with me this whole time. And I learned so many new things and met so many people. So it would be okay. It had to be okay.” He said, twiddling his thumbs.
“But… then I met you, Mydeimos.” The white-haired meister says to stop twiddling his thumbs, to look at Mydeimos.
“It was intrigue, at first. A weapon fighting meisters? That was something I had to see.” The meister’s eyes brighten when recounting their first meeting. It suited him more than that bitter smile he had on.
“I never imagined it was your 'tryouts' for meisters. And the way you fought, the way you smiled during our fight, the way you calculated every move I made, I couldn’t help but think I wanted to become your meister. Not just that, but I wanted to be your partner, your equal. And when I tried getting to know you, you were all the more incredible. Blunt to a fault, and it wouldn’t kill you to wear a proper-fitting shirt once in a while…” The white-haired meister says, his cheeks going a slight pink, “But I don’t mind!” He quickly says, still with a smile.
“You-!” Mydeimos had to clench his fist to stop himself from hitting the meister upside the head.
“And you are kind to a fault.” His words went softer. “Even when your words are harsh, and you have this intimidation about you, you don't hesitate to help in your own way. You help people when you think no one notices. But I noticed. I see you.”
It was odd that someone would tell Mydeimos that they see him for him. It’s different from people who see the demon weapon that was more demon than weapon. The people who see a violent Kremonan (but it’s just a misconception of his people. While many traditions involve battle, glory, and violence, it’s not ingrained in everything, and no foul. Though with his… father ruling over their people, who can say for certain what devious deeds he committed in his absence?)
And for the meister to say that, it fills him with annoyance. Because how dare this person, this meister, see something that Mydeimos himself wasn’t even sure was there? How can he already claim he knows him yet not force his ideals of who Mydeimos is?
How dare he make the name “Mydei" mean something to him?
“It’s just… unfortunate that you just see me as a stepping stone for your goal. But that isn’t on you. It was never on you.” His meister says, waving his hands as if to reassure him.
Could it be that whenever his meister says that, it’s him believing he was nothing but an eyesore to Mydeimos?
“I understand you aren’t here to make friends. And it took me a while to come to terms with it. But… maybe just for a little bit, I wanted to break you out of that thinking. As childish as it sounds, I wanted to be that person to make you regret saying you’d walk down that lonely path. To be the first to have your back. I can admit it was selfish of me to want that. After all, you always looked so determined to follow this goal of yours. And I can’t help but admire that about you.”
“I don’t want us to just be some sort of coworker partner. I want us to be friends who trust each other. But I realize I’ve been too selfish to force that on you. It’s not fair to you. Yet it seems selfishness runs in my veins. I can’t help but want you in that way. You’ve always been one of a kind in my eyes.”
Through this whole monologue his meister had made about his past and his intentions with him, Mydeimos couldn’t help but think his meister had it rough. Maybe Mydeimos has been too harsh to his meister.
He sees his meister in a new light. This was him bearing himself to him, to be honest to Mydeimos.
And he learned that his meister was… lonely, despite his friendly demeanor. He flirts with Mydeimos too often and… makes unnecessary comments about his body (And he knows he can shut him down anytime should his comments make him uncomfortable. Yet he chose not to. No one has ever flirted with him. So this was all new territory for him, but it doesn’t make him uncomfortable.) He had a terrible sense of fashion. And he has a stupidly big heart that made him prone to self-sacrifice.
But that’s what makes his meister human. With all the keshins, demon weapons, witch souls, and many other mythical creatures that could be on this planet, his meister was human to a fault. And Mydeimos couldn’t help but find that endearing.
Perhaps, it’s only right that he, too, is honest.
“… You asked once why I came here.” Mydeimos starts, his meister giving him his full attention.
“I’m here at the DWMA because I want to be a death scythe, and I had to leave my hometown. In Castrum Kremnos, my father is a very powerful figure in our politics. And I had learned his soul… wasn’t-isn’t human anymore.”
“I learned he murdered innocent people. Of course, his soul had fallen to the road of the keshin. And…my mother wasn’t spared from this fate. So…” It was hard, talking about his mother. A woman he had never met. Will never meet. After taking a breath, his meister waited for him to continue.
“So when I found out about all his transgressions against not just my mother, but my people, all the rage fueled my body. And that was also the day I learned I possessed a weapon soul. Innocent people would only continue to suffer if my father continued to live. So, I had to face him… and cut him down.”
Mydeimos gripped his other hand, reliving that painful memory, “But I was naive. That man was nothing but a patient, loving father, at the end of the day. And so I hesitated. And he… he was far too cunning and held my people hostage to keep me on a leash. After that… he was no father of mine. I couldn’t do anything to him in that situation. So I took the coward’s way out and left them to be stronger.”
Mydeimos always believed that a warrior would stand up and fight. Even when the odds were stacked against them. But Mydeimos didn’t do that. He was no warrior. Not someone worthy of being a Kremnoan.
“…I don’t believe that’s what a coward would do.”
“What?”
“A coward would accept their fate rather than fight. You didn’t run because you wanted to escape your fate. I believe from what I know about you, you did it to protect the people you care about… You said it yourself. Your father kept hostages, and you wanted what’s best for your people. What’s wrong with coming back later when you’ll be stronger?”
Mydeimos didn’t expect to be read by this meister. If he wasn’t wallowing in his own misery, he’d be shocked that his meister used his brain for once.
“Because I wasn’t strong when I needed to be! What use is being strong when the time you truly need it, there is nothing to show for it! They’re suffering now because of my choices! I’m the reason that-”
“Mydei. The choice you made was a hard one to bear. To be able to make this choice and not accept your fate makes you strong in my eyes. And even then, your dad wasn’t playing fair and used people you care about. That isn’t on you. And you will be able to protect them. I have faith in you.”
Enough. Please.
“How can you be so sure about that?” Mydeimos said brokenly. He couldn’t tell, but his face drooped. His guard lowered. Even his body couldn’t handle the weight of his burden, as he hunched over the balcony’s ledge.
“How can you be sure I’m strong enough to protect anyone? Can I truly protect anyone from my father’s actions? What if my father wants to take everything away from me? I…I couldn’t let that happen. So I promised myself.” Mydeimos wasn’t really sure what he was saying.
He was just tired. Tired of his decision to run away from his people. Tired of keeping this inside of him. Tired of looking over his shoulder. Tired of having to be worried of every interaction being a way his father can hurt him. Tired that he can’t enjoy his favorite things without looking behind his shoulder. Tired of depriving himself.
He’s tired of not feeling like himself for a long time.
“…What did you promise yourself, Mydeimos?”
Honesty… His meister was honest to him, so he should pay in kind, right? Did it matter if the subject matters were different in terms of topic? Who could say? Certainly not a broken man.
“I promised that I would avoid unnecessary interactions with anyone. After all, how can you hurt people I care about if there were none to begin with?”
There. He’s said the oath he made that day, the day he left the only place he knew as home. Mydeimos felt his throat constrict. It had always been uncomfortable to talk about these subject matters. His mother, his father, his choices. All of it was uncomfortable. Mydeimos’ life was uncomfortable.
After telling his meister all this, there was no possible way his meister would stay. His meister wouldn’t be his meister anymore. Because who would stay knowing their partner’s whole life is just messed up and full of aches? Mydeimos was broken. No one wants him. He had already accepted that.
“Mydeimos, I’m sorry that you had to face all this weight by yourself. It wasn’t easy, and I could never understand that weight. And I don’t think you would wish this on anyone, huh?” His meister didn’t wait for him to answer.
“But it’ll be okay. You don’t have to be alone anymore. I won’t let you.” Mydeimos’ eyes widened.
…What?
“But, how can you-why would you-I don’t understand! Do you know what you’re agreeing to? I can’t promise your safety if my father does something! He has resources, power, influence! If he wants to, he could destroy a country with the flick of his wrist! He can hurt you. I might hurt you. So…”
So why do you want to stay?
“Mydeimos, this is my choice. I want to talk to you. I want to be friends with you. You can’t make that decision for me.”
“But, what if-”
“No, what ifs, Mydei! You know what. I’ll make you a promise.”
“A promise?”
“I promise that I will make you a death scythe. Not because we shared each other’s past or all that personal stuff. But because I want you to know that through thick and thin, I’m never leaving your side. I want you to do the things you want to do! So I’ll protect you too! That’s what partners are for.”
Mydeimos wants to laugh. This meister. He can’t believe a person like his meister exists. How easily his meister can make his guilt, his worries just fade away.
How Phainon can be his deliverance.
“Besides,” The Deliverer says with a bright smile, “I won’t allow myself to be killed that easily.”
How endearing.
“Alright, 'Deliverer'."
“Deliverer? Where did that come from?”
“Well, I would hope you "deliver" on your promise. Unless you aren’t serious?”
“Mydeimos, I’m always serious about you. Mark my words!”
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Bonus:
After the dance, one of the committee members found Mydei.
“Hey, thank you so much for helping out. The cookies were great!”
“Don’t mention it. It’s really nothing.”
“Dont sell yourself short, Mydei! Besides, I want to thank you for Phainon too!”
The committee members all called Mydeimos Mydei since the Deliverer kept calling him that. So they called him that as well (some had more class than Phainon since they had the decency to ask). And he didn’t mind it either.
“With the Deliverer?” He unknowingly said his nickname for him.
“Aww, you gave him a nickname? I guess you both have a stronger bond than I thought.” A stronger bond? He supposes that since that moment on the balcony, they’ve been friendlier. Not to mention, the Deliverer hasn’t burnt his hands since then. But Mydeimos makes sure (even now bring soothing balms and thicker gloves just in case).
“But that’s not it. Phainon really enjoyed his time when helping out with the dance. I think we owe it all to you that Phainon has a bit of sparkle in his eyes, you know?”
“Ha, you mean him just loving to make things difficult for me?”
“You say that but I don’t think you mean that.”
Mydeimos thought about it. And perhaps the Deliverer grew on him. Just a bit of course.
“Maybe.”