Chapter Text
The little boy was ripped out of his dreamless sleep by the feeling of pain. A harsh cry ripped out of his throat as it dug deep into his heart and spread out in white-hot tendrils towards the rest of his body. But he suppressed any other noise. If you made a sound, you'd make yourself known. If you spoke up, you were hurt more.
Only a soft sob escaped the boy as something poked and prodded into his chest, cold and sharp. Murmurs around him bled into the background as his vision danced. He doesn't remember being dragged into the hidden room in his sleep, but here he was, sickeningly small body pinned down onto the hard metal table, the blurry faces of priests and other officiants of the Temple swimming around.
At some point, he'd gone numb. Perhaps, as a way to protect the boy's mind from dissolving the way his body was, his brain had adapted to disassociating whenever he was brought here. So he didn't have to feel the pain.
He knew he wouldn't die. He was too valuable for the Temple, too important to risk losing during one of the procedures. They'd never go that far, despite how much the boy would beg and pray to whatever deity was listening, that they'd just let him drift away into peaceful eternal rest.
His mind wandered, now thinking about the other little boy. Smaller than him, Sethos his name. The boy didn't know his own name, not that it mattered to these people. He didn't know his own age. He didn’t know anything.
He wondered if Sethos could hear what went on in these hidden rooms.
For Sethos was the golden child, the one destined for greatness, the heir to the Temple of Silence. They didn't torture him. Poke and dissect his body. They didn't starve the child. The boy had watched how Bamoun cared for Sethos.
Not him, however. Never him.
He was the guinea pig. The testing dummy. He suffered, so that Sethos wouldn't. So they could witness how far they could go with their torture, and then lessen it for the younger.
Sometimes, he’d ask himself if he resented the other boy. But despite everything, his answer would remain a no. How could he? After all, it was Sethos who'd ever talked to him. It was Sethos who, despite his blissful oblivion, worried about him. Sethos was the only bright spot in the deep darkness that he went through.
And so, the reminder that he was going through all of this to protect the other boy kept him going. Maybe the little boy's sense of justice and self sacrifice had stemmed from these experiences.
.・゜゜・𓂀・゜゜・．
Cyno’s chest heaved with effort as he kept hold of the Ba fragment. Bright electro energy flickered around the room and he could see in his peripheral vision how the Traveler and Paimon had to convince Tighnari to not intervene.
With aching arms, he was able to hold the fragment up to his chest, and a pained groan escaped his lips as he pressed it further against him. It glowed brighter, almost blinding. Unintelligible whispers rang through his ears and ancient runes formed on his arms, extending up to his neck, glowing a golden hue. Awed murmurs echoed around the room, the people of the Temple watching him determinedly. He could feel one particular set of green eyes burn into him.
With a final cry and a burst of energy the fragment dissolved into his body, positioned itself deep down right into his heart, where it reunited with the first. He collapsed, falling onto his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. His vision swam and the runes on his body faded away.
The air in the room was tense now. The divine soul locked away in his body was whole once more. Over the ringing of his ears, he could hear Tighnari and the Traveler running up to him, steady hands helping him back up to his own feet.
Pained laughter erupted from the man atop the throne, at the end of the room. Bamoun cackled deliriously, eyes wide.
“Welcome, Lord Hermanubis, He who will share with us His wisdom once more! Rejoice, everyone, for our God stands before you!”
But before anyone could react, Bamoun fell into a fit of coughing, his eyes clouded over and he slumped backward. Surprised shouts and gasps rose from the crowd of onlookers and the priests that stood by his side.
“Grandfather?!” Sethos, who Cyno’d been avoiding eye contact with, rushed over to Bamoun’s side as he was carried off. Left in the room alone, Tighnari helped guide Cyno out of the main chamber and into a quiet hallway. The Traveler and Paimon trailed behind, carrying his discarded polearm.
The Forest Ranger sat him down and inspected his body for any injuries. Cyno could only lay there, mind in a daze. He faintly heard Tighnari ask him if he was hurt anywhere.
On the outside, no. Sethos was a good fighter, but Cyno’d easily avoided any harm from the other man. But how could he describe that he no longer felt like himself? That he felt like his own soul had been ripped out of him with the arrival of the second fragment? That memories that weren’t his suddenly flooded into his mind, mixing in with the whispers and moans of the now conscious entity inside of him? That a throbbing ache settled deep inside of his chest, where his heart became overwhelmed by the amount of electro energy now flowing through his veins, making the vision on his back glow brightly?
Ever so stubborn, he simply shook his head. Tighnari looked uncertain, but dropped it for now. He pulled out a waterskin, helping Cyno drink the cool liquid before settling down on the ground with him. The Traveler, who’d remained quiet all this time, sat down a little further away, deep in their own thoughts.
“Do you think Bamoun will be alright?” Paimon spoke up, to no one in particular. The Traveler shrugged.
“I don’t know how long he’s been dealing with his illness, but from the looks of it, he’s not doing well.” Tighnari shook his head.
“...cancer.” Cyno murmured. “He was diagnosed with it when we were children. I don’t know how he’s still alive.”
Footsteps sounded from nearby. Sethos approached the group, and his expression was enough for the group to assume the worst.
“...he’s gone. If you would like to stay for the funerary rite, you may. If you would like to leave, I can escort you out.” He spoke, voice hoarse. Cyno and Tighnari exchanged looks, and then glanced at the Traveler for confirmation.
“We’ll stay. It’s only right.” They stood, and Tighnari helped Cyno up.
“Very well.” Sethos turned and walked in a different direction. They followed him, passing by rooms and hallways Cyno remembered exploring with the brown haired boy in front of them. The Temple was identical to the way he’d last seen it a decade ago. He remembered the night Cyrus had taken him by the hand and they’d ran, ran as far as they could before the Temple of Silence could notice their absence. He remembered the aching feeling he’d felt as he gave a final squeeze to the younger boy’s hand. That was the last time he’d seen Sethos, until now, fourteen years later.
Cyno chased the thoughts away as they entered a new room. A casket lay in the middle, draped in a decorated cloth and an unnamed powder sprinkled upon it. An opening in the roof let in the glow of sunlight, casting solely onto the casket and illuminating the sparkling gold. The room was smaller compared to the grand chamber the duel had taken place in, and only the priests and certain members of the Temple stood around the hidden body of the leader. The trio took the opportunity to slip away into a quiet corner. The Traveler had to lock Paimon into a side hug to keep her from floating up to get a closer look.
Sethos stepped forward, and one priest veiled in robes handed him a candle, embedded with gold, and a flame matching the ones an adventurer would stumble across in an abandoned ruin, ghostly. He approached the casket, and murmured an ancient prayer. Cyno leaned over to the other two to translate as with a final deep breath, Sethos lined up the flame of the candle to the powder, which caught on fire instantly, and burned the cloth before spreading down to the material of the casket itself.
The gold and obsidian slowly started to burn, but didn’t melt as you’d expect. Rather, they slowly turned into a gentle smoke that rose up through the opening in the roof. The crowd of people all lowered their heads in respect, and the trio followed suit. Bamoun’s body burned alongside the casket, and yet no sickly smell emerged from the smoke.
After a few minutes of muttered blessings and prayers, everyone left the room. But Cyno lingered as he watched Sethos. His back was turned to him, but he could tell from his body language that something was off. Hesitantly, Cyno walked over to stand with him. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“...what do I do now?” Sethos’ voice didn’t break the silence, rather seeping into it softly. Cyno turned to glance at him. “I mean, Grandfather’s gone. My powers are gone. And you’re going to leave again. I’m not ready for this. This wasn’t how it was meant to go.”
“..I won’t leave this time. This doesn’t have to be a painful reunion, Sethos.” He crossed his arms, trying to keep his demeanor collected despite the burning that spread through his chest.
The green eyed man laughed humorlessly. “What purpose do I have left? Lead the Temple? For what? Our motives are fulfilled and yet, I’m not the one who has the fragments. You do. And you can’t stay here, you have a life outside of this Archons damned-” He stopped, hands falling to his sides.
“Don’t say that. Your purpose is not the Temple. Don’t force yourself into this-”
“You don’t get it! My whole life has been leading to this. I’ve trained. I’ve suffered. And now? I’m at the top, but there’s nothing here! I remember the way they treated you,” The mention of their shared past made Cyno’s heart ache beyond the influence of the Ba fragment, “Just so I could be safe, and now it’s all in vain! I don’t have anything left, Cyno.” His voice cracked, and Cyno resisted the urge to pull the younger into a hug. A very rare feeling for the usually stoic man, but this was Sethos. He’d grown up with him. His…little brother.
“...come to the city.”
“..what..?”
Cyno sighed softly. “Come to the city sometime. I can give you a tour around. Tighnari and I meet up with friends at Lambad’s Tavern too. It’d be good for you to socialize after all this time.”
“I can’t leave the Temple.” Sethos countered.
“Just for a day or two. I never asked you to leave.”
Sethos considered the offer for a few moments. His relationship with Cyno was crooked, but he wasn’t looking forward to spending even more time in the Temple, let alone as its leader. His shoulders slumped and he gave in, nodding. “..alright. That’d be nice.”
.・゜゜・𓂀・゜゜・．
The Traveler had offered to teleport them back to the city, but with Cyno’s weariness from the battle and consuming the fragment, combined with Tighnari’s condition from being out in the desert for too long, the blond agreed that it wouldn’t end well. But they still insisted on accompanying them back to the City. (Although Paimon didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect of having to fly that long- which the little fairy insisted did get tiring, despite the three’s shared looks of disbelief.)
So as they trudged along the sands, Cyno’s mind was focused on his lover and the hand intertwined with his, but he couldn’t help that his mind wandered back to Sethos. Cyno knew he resented him. He saw it in his eyes, when he’d held him at the tip of his spear and earned his place in history as the Temple’s first successful inheritor of Hermanubis’ power. He saw it in his eyes during Bamoun’s funeral, how despite everything he’d been raised for, Cyno got the glory. And Cyno couldn’t help but let some of his own negative thoughts seep in. He hadn’t been tortured as a child. He hadn’t been sent to the Akademiya too early for his own good, where people picked and sneered at his too-dark skin and laughed at his quiet submission. He had a better childhood than Cyno ever did, and yet he complained of his lack of purpose. When Cyno’s purpose was only ever to mold into stepping stones for little Sethos to go further in life.
But as soon as those thoughts came, a brighter, more hopeful one pushed them away. Maybe, just maybe, the two could fix their relationship and help each other heal from the past that their wounds extended from. Maybe, they could be brothers again. But only if Sethos was willing to help mend the cracks.