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At the end of everything, once Amphoreus has been made tangible and real, Phainon doesn’t stay.
He leaves, taken by the passing west wind, by Zephyro. At the end of recreation, digital turns into organic, and the milky white of his flesh is now receptive to the touch of another.
“Phainon!” Caelus shrieks, his throat constricting painfully. “Give him back to me! Give him back!"
His hands desperately reach out to grab him: a piece of his blue cape, now torn into pieces, or feathers from the mismatched wings that drag lifelessly beneath his friend’s flushed, overheated body. And yet all of these slip through Caelus’s fingers as Zephyro goes to meet his God, carrying Phainon with him.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” the Lord Ravager says to Phainon, pleased, which earns him a very faint, defiant twitch from those large wings.
“P-Partner…,” Phainon weakly raises his head from where it’s forcibly perched on Zephyro’s shoulder, and smiles. He’s beautiful, even when he’s bruised like a peach.
He says to Caelus, “See you tomorrow.”
The Trailblazer can only watch them go, helpless.
The Chrysos heirs are celebrating with their people, their joyous and tearful cries echoing behind him. But Caelus cannot partake in their happiness, not when his heart has been violently ripped out by Zephyro’s hands, strong and deadly white, permeating the air with the scent of Destruction.
(Zephyro is the name of the gale that crept its way into Amphoreus, violently dragging Phainon out beneath the cover of darkness. There is something so disturbingly intimate, in the way this theft is performed, with the none too gentle cradling and the overheard whisper of hello there, Khaslana, God’s favourite bird.)
When the Trailblazer finally forces himself to walk and rejoin his friends, each step feels heavy, like there's a weight that he can’t quite shake off. Phainon, Caelus thinks, to remind himself of this moment, of what he has lost. I’ll get you back someday.
The oppressive feeling persists in his chest, even after arriving at the edge of Okhema. It is safe here, he knows, and yet it doesn’t feel like it.
“Trailblazer!” It’s Mydei who is the first to greet him, standing with his arms crossed near the entrance leading to the rest of the city. He looks good like this, the prince’s face softened with their victory. “We were wondering where you’ve been.” Then, as if finally noticing, he curiously looks around and asks, “Where’s Phainon?”
Not Deliverer. Not since Caelus has taken that role.
“He’s, Phainon is — eurgh, ahh," a sob quietly slips through at the mention of his name. “He’s gone, I’m so sorry.”
The smile instantly slips from Mydei’s face.
“What do you mean he’s gone.” Mydei’s voice grows more distorted, transforming from something soft into a near-shout by the end of it. The gold of his jewelry shines fiercely from the glow of crimson-red crystals jutting out from the ground in the wake of Mydei’s anger.
"Where is he?"
“Mydeimos, calm down!” Caelus chokes the words out, his vision already dimming with tears. He’s crying so heavily he knows his eyes will be swollen for days after this. “Listen to me.”
“It’s Zephyro, no, Nanook,” the Trailblazer says, defeated — enraged. “Nanook took Phainon away.”
It doesn’t take long for the celebrations to end.
When the Astral Express comes, landing safely on Amphoreus’s soil, Caelus packs his bags. He leaves, too.
“I’m sorry,” he gives an apologetic smile to everyone. He thinks they understand. “We have to go now.”
“Promise me you’ll look after yourself,” Hyacine says from a huddle of distraught Chrysos heirs, looking pale and teary-eyed. It reignites feelings of guilt within Caelus, for allowing them to look small like this.
“And i-if you see Lord Phai—”
“But of course!” Caelus replies without letting her finish, in a loud enough voice that has Dan Heng grimacing beside him. There’s a little bit of false cheer to not make them worry, yes, but also enough sincerity to that unspoken promise that turns Hyacine’s barely present smile into something more genuine.
The weight of it is small but heavy, that promise, and it is what propels Caelus to be tugged gently back into the safety of the Astral Express. The skies of Amphoreus are in streaks of orange and pink now, heralding the first arrival of dawn, casting the train in a rich, inviting light.
There is also Dan Heng’s hand on his back, which feels warm and reassuring.
“We’ll get him back.” Caelus says, much quieter now, as though verbalizing it out in the open might make it more real. More likely to happen. “Phainon is our friend.”
Dan Heng’s grip on his shirt tightens for a brief moment. “We will,” the man agrees, his tone gentle. “We’re the Nameless, and we never abandon our friends.”
The rest of the night passes like a blur after this — the red plush chairs, the too bright lights in the train lobby, a cool drink passed to him by a worried-looking Himeko, and then Welt, with his rough hands and soothing voice, telling Caelus a story about a hero from Earth. Kevin’s his name, the Icarus from my world, Welt says, and something about him looks aged in the way he whispers that name. A man who flew and burned for a kinder, gentler tomorrow.
When Caelus dreams, the ceiling of his room is overtaken by the unyielding vastness of the cosmos, electronic light replaced with the pinprick glow of distant stars. There, shining rebelliously in coal-black darkness lies Phainon: flushed with his anger, the heat of it nearly scorching, pinned like a butterfly on the cradle of Nanook’s palms.
“I’m going to kill you,” the man grits his teeth, his arms bent at an unnatural angle. Phainon strains his torso, baring his teeth in the face of God, saying, daring, “Did you hear me? Nanook!”
“Khaslana,” the Aeon rumbles, and the sound of his voice has Caelus clutching his chest, his body shaking from the heaviness he feels. “I am always listening.”
Without warning, the god completely tears off one of his wings in one clean move, and Phainon’s back arches from the pain. A blood-curdling scream follows, echoing in this vast space where only Nanook and Phainon exist, and Caelus crouches low and chants to himself this is a dream this is a dream this is a dream.
“A-Are you crazy,” Phainon gasps, blond hair transforming back into snow-white strands. He weakly lifts his head to stare at Nanook with hatred in his eyes and irreverence shaping the curve of his mouth, his lips red and shiny. Caelus’s eyes linger for a moment there.
Nanook says nothing in response, the corner of his mouth faintly turned up in amusement. Then he moves his head to the side, right to where Caelus is hiding, and the glare of his golden eyes instantly pierces his own.
“Leave us be,” the God orders, and all at once the Trailblazer sits up from his bed, breathing heavily.
“What the fuck was that,” Caelus murmurs, the fear in his heart so great it almost feels tangible. That couldn't have been a dream. The sight of golden blood, Phainon struggling beneath that colossal arm, and the growing sense of disquiet he feels — all of these appear real to him.
God’s favourite is what Zephyro said before leaving Amphoreus.
It feels more like a curse than a gift.
“What’s wrong, Caelus?” Sunday asks one morning, a week after.
The Trailblazer lifts his head, away from the mug of coffee he’s nursing. He is sluggish, slow to respond these days. Caelus sees his face reflected on a nearby window, and grimaces. “Trouble sleeping,” he mumbles. “There’s been too much on my mind lately.”
Sunday’s frown deepens, expression now tinged with sorrow. “We’ll find your friend soon,” the Halovian vows, misunderstanding.
Caelus doesn’t know how to tell him that he already sees Phainon every night, in the dusk of his dreams. Sometimes with his wings healed and intact, other times without — but always, always within the reach of the Aeon of Destruction.
That in his dreams, Caelus is always the unwitting observer, guilty and grieving and hungry. It’s hard not to, especially when he has a bird’s eye-view of Phainon with his legs spread, golden blood intermixing heavily with Nanook’s.
I’ll kill you, Phainon would roar, lashes fluttering every time Nanook enters him, coaxing out weak little sounds that he desperately tries to muffle behind a loosely-clenched fist. Kill kill kill kill.
And without fail, that divine figure would lick into his wounds, healing what’s broken in order to break him again, saying, I look forward to that day, Khaslana.
And it’s. It’s strange.
An Aeon and his least devout follower. God and man, intertwined together.
How could Caelus try to explain all of this?
“Thank you,” is all he says instead, overwhelmed. It’s touching to see Sunday’s concern for a stranger he’s only met in his and Dan Heng’s stories.
“I hope to see Phainon in the flesh soon,” Caelus continues, and means it.
Later that night, when he crawls beneath the bed covers, for once he does not dream of anything. It is ordinary, peaceful, and it leaves Caelus feeling disappointed come the following morning.
It’s in their visit to Belobog that has him finally reuniting with Phainon.
It starts with Caelus rushing to take pictures of the tiny bear cubs that live on the outskirts of the city, March 7th’s camera firmly in hand, before he notices the trail of yellow-purple feathers sparsely dotting the ground.
He follows it, past rocky terrain and snow-capped peaks, until he reaches the last feather and it leads him before the Pillars of Creation. It is there that he finds Phainon, dozing peacefully on an outlying rock.
“Phainon,” Caelus says. He feels like he’ll never get tired saying his name. “Phainon. Phainon. Wake up, please.”
Thick lashes flutter, this sacrificial lamb before him slowly coming into wakefulness, and all Caelus can think about is him writhing underneath a god, pink and breathless.
“Wha— is that you, partner?” Phainon’s voice is groggy and hoarse, and still so, so gentle with him. “Why are you here?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” the Trailblazer replies dryly, a lopsided smile already on his face. Then he extends his hand to the other man, and with a laugh Phainon readily accepts.
“I’m glad to see you in person again,” Caelus whispers once he has him in his arms, suddenly emotional. It doesn’t matter why he’s here, out from his gilded birdcage. Phainon is solid and warm, pressed against his own body, and it’s all Caelus has ever wanted.
“Hey,” Caelus says, and Phainon looks to the side with his eyes wide open. And they’re golden, he notices for the first time, even with his hair the colour of snow that falls in abundance here in Belobog. So unlike that bright, vivid blue that reminded Caelus of a sky that birds could freely fly under.
“Oh,” Phainon looks down, looking shy after Caelus tells him. “Does gold not suit me?”
“It does!” Caelus rushes to reassure him. “Gold is so pretty too! It’s like, uhh, the peel on Aglaea’s apples.”
Peals of laughter burst from Phainon, his face creased into a smile. And just like everything about him, it is addicting. The sound, the happiness of this moment. “You have a way with words, partner.” Wistfully Phainon adds, “I can imagine how fun it would’ve been to have you with me in Professor Anaxa’s class.”
Caelus smiles. They do not address the elephant in the room that is Nanook. He does not ask him if he’ll ever come back to Amphoreus. If he is okay, even when he catches the flashes of pain etched on Phainon’s face every time he moves his waist.
Phainon isn’t free, not when God watches his every move from the shadows.
So all Caelus can do is swallow his bitterness and say, “I hope we can see each other again.”
The issue from the start has always been this: that while Phainon loves him, Caelus, divided and shared with nearly everyone from Amphoreus —
How could this paltry love compare to the enormity of what he feels for Nanook?
"Khaslana," God summons him, and Phainon comes with sword and talons blazing. He always arrives without fail, the pull too strong to resist.
Because the opposite of love is not hate. It’s indifference.
And Phainon is the furthest thing from indifferent when it comes to Nanook.
“Little bird,” Nanook says. “Won’t you sing for me?”
In his dreams Phainon angrily stretches his wings to perch on God’s large fingers, fiercely scratching him in retaliation. In all of Caelus’s dreams, Phainon runs to Nanook’s side, and stays.