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It all starts with an alchemic accident.
A student of Anaxa, clearly overworked and sleep-deprived, loses his grip on a box full of experiment supplies. The vials it contains shatter in a cloud of smoke right as Phainon walks by, and poof! Okhema’s great deliverer gets turned into a tiny chimera.
An inconvenience the Chrysos heir should be reasonably upset about, but he can’t exactly find cause for grievance when, for the first time in gods know how many million years, he’s inhabited by a deep, blissful feeling of peace.
He’d almost forgotten there could be more to life than an endless cycle of suffering. That, at times, it could be this simple, this warm.
In this form, the constant thrum of Destruction flowing through his veins is nothing but a distant whisper, and the traumatizing memories of bearing so many core flames it consumed him from the inside out, of killing his most cherished friends again and again and again, of mercilessly ripping away at his own humanity with gold-stained fingers, until the child from Aedes Elysae died and only the Worldbearer remained, aren’t forefront anymore.
Right now, he’s all instincts, living in the here and now, and those instincts…
Well, they’ve led him to the best possible place in the entire cosmos: Curled up in Mydei’s lap, the warrior’s calloused hands coaxing loud purrs out of his chest as they gently stroke his fur.
This is the most time they’ve spent together since reaching the true Era Nova, the one of their own making. Not that Phainon doesn’t wish to be near Mydei.
On the contrary, it’s all he yearns for.
But one of his most deeply ingrained muscle memory is plunging his sword right through his friend’s back, where it will kill him without fault, and sometimes, Phainon wakes up from nightmares with Dawnmaker in his hand, the bed sheets covered in white feathers, feathers that came from the pillows he sliced in half while asleep to extract an imaginary Core Flame from them, and he…
He… he just can’t take the risk of hurting Mydei again. So, it’s best if he stays away. From him, from the other Chrysos Heirs, from anyone he loves.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to worry about that for now. After all, it’s not like his small chimera paws could wield a weapon. On top of that, he feels so relaxed right now that he doubts any nightmare could slither its way into his mind, even if he were to doze off.
And he just might, because it’s been an eternity since he last felt this comfortable and safe, and he is slowly melting under Mydei’s strong, perfect hands, so large they nearly cover all of his body, and so skilled they massage away aches Phainon has carried in his muscles for thirty-three million cycles, and he doesn’t want this moment to ever stop…
But before sleep can claim him, the alchemy responsible for his transformation wears off, and Phainon suddenly finds himself back in his human body, still just as snuggly cuddled up as before, his head resting against the Kremnoan’s bare chest.
Mydei smiles, not showing the slightest sign of surprise.
“Welcome back, Deliverer.”
He doesn’t seem bothered at all by the situation, only amused and fond, which suits Phainon just fine, because while his body’s already made the switch back to his usual self, his mind’s a bit behind and still lacking the restraint necessary for him to feel embarrassed just yet.
So, he just gives in to his heart’s deepest desires and nuzzles Mydei’s neck, unwilling to part with him. A sentiment the other demi-god appears to share, because he cards his fingers through Phainon’s hair in response, his touch just as affectionate as before.
A tiny voice tells Phainon he should pull away, because the more he indulges now, the more it’ll hurt later, but its warning comes too late.
Now that he’s been reminded of how good Mydei’s arms feel wrapped around him, that he’s basked in the warmth of his love once again, there’s just no way he can return to his self-imposed loneliness
“You’re still purring,” The other man notes, a hint of pride in his voice.
Is he? All he hears is Mydei’s heartbeat, strong and soothing against his ear. So soothing it revives his drowsiness from earlier and makes his eyelids heavy. Phainon invites in the tiredness, too content to resist its gentle call. He hasn’t truly rested his ages, not ever since he saw light fade from Mydei’s eyes for the first time, and he is so, so weary, and slumber doesn’t scare him for once, because…
Because being here, by Mydei’s side, invokes the same kind of warm, tender feeling in his chest as when he remembers the wheat fields of Aedes Elysae softly swaying under the wind.
Because he is finally home.