Archive of Our Own

The first time Cyno has blood on his hands is even before he smiles for the first time; he doesn't know exactly when it happens, but he knows it's soon. His memory fades into indistinguishable blurs, shadows engulf everything, and beasts climb every wall.

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I.

An Amurta student has rudely come to the attention of the Akademiya; he has been reported for academic corruption, a crime that cannot be so easily overlooked. Cyno, who was recently appointed General Mahamatra, is duty-bound to personally deal with him.

He approaches carefully and stealthily; most people don't recognize him when he's not wearing his headdress and instead wears his student uniform. It's a relief, but also a little disconcerting: do they only recognize him as General Mahamatra and not Cyno?

It's relatively easy to track down Amurta's "Tighnari," his Valuka Shuna-like features are not unnoticed, and it seems that if you approach any group of students huddled together, you'll run into him.

It is suspicious in itself, why is he always surrounded by people, even other darshan?

He stays close to them but slightly apart, listening to the murmurs of the people and Tighnari's own voice, soft but authoritative.

"I heard he's a genius..."

"I should ask him about my project..."

"Maybe you could help me with my thesis..."

"How gorgeous..."

"Maybe I can touch his tail a little..."

Almost all the conversations are essentially the same, with the most recurring themes being: Tighnari is smart and capable, attractive and trustworthy.

He reviewed Tighnari's background; he has undoubtedly proven himself capable and intelligent. His grades are high and outstanding; his work was submitted on time and, after review, is flawless and original.

He quickly studies the student. He has long, black hair, and his ears and tail are well-groomed. His skin is white, shiny, and clean.
His eyes appear to have a kind of heterochromia, with brown and green tones.
Tighnari  is  attractive.

Reliable... Cyno wonders how much can be done with so many people asking for help; it must be a lot of work. However, he's seen Tighnari collaborate on other people's projects; he doesn't want to think about the amount of work he hasn't even been mentioned in.

None of these things particularly catch his attention. Tighnari doesn't seem to have an arrogant or haughty personality.

In contrast, Tighnari's portrayal of Amurta is... clean, innocent, and genuine.

Tighnari exists in the open halls of the Akademiya. The sunlight falls softly and warmly upon him, the wind gently ruffles his hair. His skin glows, his movements are delicate, his voice soft as roses.

Nothing in Tighnari betrays any corrupt attitude, Cyno's instinct tells him that he is innocent, but irrefutable proof is needed to be able to present to the wise, something more than pure  trained instinct.

Cyno feels like a sinner in his presence, the mere fact of being in the same space as him seems inappropriate.

Cyno, his hands stained with blood, with a beast inside him waiting to devour him. Him and his unchanging misfortune.

He swallowed his guilt and discomfort, he had a job to do.

He listened attentively to Tighnari's words, which dealt primarily with Sumerian vegetation and the principles of nature. These were basic and straightforward topics, explained with simplicity, so that everyone present was easily impressed.

Cyno already knew these principles, having taken courses from all the other darshans to gather more information that would be useful as a matra; besides, he was older than Tighnari, so it would be humiliating not to know something as basic as a matra.

Still, he recognized the older students who were paying attention as if it was the first time they had heard those words.

Tighnari answered questions and spoke with other students to clarify their concerns. He addressed the small group whenever he had information he felt was appropriate to share and asked questions.

Cyno was interested, his teaching skills were already impressive as was his vast knowledge.

He helped selflessly.

He steps back slightly; at no point does his clothing touch another student's uniform; he's careful in that regard. Distance must be maintained; the teacher's role is to take care of the students, and to achieve that, it's best to maintain distance.

He's surprised when, out of everyone around him, Tighnari glances at him. He'd seen him looking for questions or doubts, but he didn't think he could look at him  ;  he was slightly outside the circle and could only see Tighnari through the space between one student's neck and another's shoulder, so the fact that Tighnari was looking at him in that confined space surprised him greatly.

He's even more surprised when he seems to want to catch up with him, probably to include him in the explanation or to ask if he has any questions. But Cyno takes advantage of the moment Tighnari blinks to disappear from his sight.

It takes him less than a second to climb a tree and hide among its leaves. The commotion of the students and his light, silent feet prevent Tighnari from even hearing the wind. From his vantage point, he can see Tighnari's confusion as he stares into the emptiness of his absence, his long ears twitching in all directions, and so can Tighnari, but eventually he gives up.

It seems he has underestimated the attention he gives to those who come to him for help, he will have to stay away more.

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The next few times he follows Tighnari, he does so through bushes and trees, behind walls and shelves. He sneaks into Amurta's classrooms and listens to every conversation that mentions his name.

It's a simple and easy task, although it takes time. He accepts the job because it means he doesn't have to leave the Academy and miss classes unnecessarily.

Between paperwork as General Mahamatra, important exams, his classes, Amurta's electives, and the pursuit of a suspected corrupt academic, Cyno barely blinks; his steps are so careless that he hears the breeze he creates with each leap to the top of a tree and the sound of the grass against his feet. He's light and discreet; there's nothing to worry about.

Except he underestimates Tighnari once again.

"You've become careless. Should I be worried or relieved? Why don't you come outside so we can talk? I sense you're a scholar; we should be able to hold a polite conversation." Tighnari speaks to the wind, his gaze fixed on a Sumeru rose, but he knows he's speaking to him.

And Cyno is tired. His perpetual exhaustion combined with physical and mental fatigue, so he decides to obey and emerges from the bushes to confront the scholar, whom Cyno has already decided must be innocent.

"You're right," he says quietly. "You're a highly esteemed scholar, and my only intention is to reveal your judgment."

Tighnari turns to him carefully; whoever he expected to see, it definitely wasn't him. His face darkens slightly as his eyes widen in time with his lips, his ears lay back, and his tail fluffs up. It takes him a second to compose himself, but his tail is still fluffier than usual, with a subtle, anxious twitch at the tip.

"The Mahamatra? No, The General Mahamatra. What could I have done to make the General investigate me?" He approaches him to sit down, shakes his hands to clean the dirt, and remains politely still.

"You had been charged with serious offenses that require proper investigation, and I have decided to take action."

"I noticed your presence about three days ago, do the charges really deserve three days of following me?"

"I've been following you for almost a month."

Tighnari frowns. "A month? How come I only heard you a few days ago?"

"I'm afraid I must admit that my skills have been affected by the wear and tear this new position as General Mahamatra has caused me. It seems I've overestimated my ability to maintain the balance between student and general. I apologize for my carelessness, but my research appears to be nearing its end, so my presence will cease to bother you soon."

"General Mahamatra is a scholar?" Tighnari murmurs. "Has he completed his investigation? And what was his verdict?"

Cyno clears his throat briefly, undecided whether to say it, but ultimately decides to do so. "You are cleared of all charges, though I advise you to be careful who approaches you; after all, it was a scholar who tried to frame you. I will be sure to thoroughly review the evidence presented to find any inconsistencies and identify the culprit."

"I see... I'm glad, then." He gets up from the ground and approaches him with a soft, determined step.

"You shouldn't have any problems with the matra from now on. I apologize for the invasion of your privacy and any inconvenience it may have caused you," he clarifies.

Tighnari stands right in front of him, looking him up and down without any shame.

"Although I am surprised that General Mahamatra is a scholar, may I ask which darshan he belongs to?"

"I don't see what relevance that information has."

"I'm sure I would have seen you," he says, looking him straight in the eyes. He doesn't seem intimidated or nervous around him—unlike the countless scholars who flee at first sight—this Amurtan student is able to stand in front of him and look him in the eye while he speaks. "There are few students with your build." As if to prove it, he touches his abs with his fingertips, a light caress that sends a shiver down his spine.

"I normally wear my uniform during classes, once again I reiterate that I don't see any importance in that."

"Even in your uniform, I'm sure you wouldn't go unnoticed."

With every passing second, Cyno feels more and more confused.

He takes a step back, moving away from Tighnari's touch and looks into his eyes, his tail moving slowly but fluidly from side to side, playful.

He's grateful that his tail shows Tighnari's expressions so clearly, as he's not good at reading people's faces.

"Isn't your armor quite revealing? It barely covers anything, you could easily get hurt." Tighnari crosses his arms with a smile.

"I don't get hurt that easily," he says. He doesn't mention that the armor is hereditary, and that even if he wanted to modify it, that could be considered a transgression and would cause scandal.

"Oh." Tighnari's tail moves slowly.

"I say goodbye, Amurta student."

"Tighnari!" He interrupts him before he can turn around. "My name is Tighnari."

"I know." He frowns, confused; the whole interaction was unexpected, and the duration surprisingly long.

"And your name?" he asks, moving closer. Cyno backs away before he can touch it.

"It would be inappropriate to give you my name."

"Is this some kind of rule?" Tighnari asks, strangely passionate.

"Not really. Although the Matra is forbidden from associating closely with scholars."

"That's a stupid rule too," He hears him mutter to the floor. "Then it should be okay for you to give me your name," he says.

And Cyno wants to but he doesn't want to.

"If our paths cross again when the sun meets the dunes at dusk, I will tell you my name. Until then, disciple of Amurta, Tighnari."

He jumps from the ground to the branches of trees without waiting for a response, but camouflages himself against the foliage to continue its work.

In the distance, he hears Tighnari insulting the ground he walks on.

He knows, with impressive conviction, that he'll never see Tighnari again. A person as wonderful as Tighnari doesn't meet people like Cyno twice, not if he's lucky.

It's better to stay away.

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II.

It turns out that Tighnari actually has great hearing, far above average, as well as an incredible sense of smell.

He's in the library looking for books to carry out the research he was assigned during his darshan at Spantamad. He has a double major in Haravatat, but it doesn't burden him, as the two darshans seem curiously intertwined. The study of runes facilitates the study of ley lines and ancient alchemy in almost forgotten languages.

The desert dwellers speak other languages ​​long forgotten in the city of Sumeru, which has served him well in his studies. Meanwhile, the students avoid him like the plague; as a young man, he struggled to communicate with others; his vocabulary and clumsiness made communication nearly impossible.

A mere glance at his dark skin or his red eyes would send anyone running. Those who weren't convinced by his skin tone were frightened by the intense red of his eyes.

He was a denigrated person.

He was okay with that, he learned to be.

"You study runes? Then you must be in Haravatat, right?" A voice echoed beside him, and Tighnari looked down at the book in his hands. "I don't know what it's about, though. I can't read runes..."

"A Study of Ley Lines in the Ancient Empire of King Deshret, Volume Two." He reads the book title aloud.

"I see..." Tighnari murmurs.

He didn't wait for an answer and sat down at a distant table with three different books and a notebook. He had things to study.

Although he didn't expect Tighnari to sit next to him, he was only surprised when he felt a hand on his bicep, unashamed of anything.

"So I was right." Tighnari seems to be focused on his arm without blinking.

He ignores him and returns to his work without saying anything. He knows that paying attention to him will only entertain him, but if he ignores him, he'll leave as soon as he gets bored.

He diligently studies his book for about half an hour until Tighnari finally gets bored and proceeds to take out his own study books along with a small notebook covered in thick, black leather.

He watches him out of the corner of his eye, studying him with ease and speed, as he discovered when he watched him. His handwriting is neat and tidy, and he writes concisely but concisely.

It's formal and orderly, brief and concise; unlike Cyrus's notes, which are more confusing and extensive, his handwriting is long and fine, handwritten, just as Cyrus had taught him years before, although it was a messier version due to the speed with which he wrote.

"You said you'd tell me your name if we ever saw each other again," Tighnari whispers beside him, not even stopping his writing.

He guess he said it.

"Why would you need my name?"

"I'm interested in you, so I want to know your name." He answers quickly, impassively.

"A dangerous interest, indeed. It's better for our paths to remain separate. Be grateful for my distance and steer clear if you know what's best for you. Irresponsible curiosity is a danger that Akademiya scholars face daily; being able to identify danger in their interests is a skill only the fittest learn."

"I think I'm capable of taking care of myself and knowing when I'm being neglected." Tighnari snorted in annoyance. "Why are you so reluctant to tell me your name?"

"My refusal is nothing more than a genuine concern born of experience. It's better not to give names or faces to those who aren't meant to stay."

Tighnari was silent for a few moments, and Cyno wondered if he would finally give up, but he didn't. "All right, General. You don't have to tell me your name, but that doesn't mean I'm going to leave you alone."

He sighed wearily. "Such a one-sided relationship is doomed to fail."

"I think you're underestimating me, General," Tighnari said with a renewed smile. "And I think you'll end up surprising yourself."

I already am. He wanted to tell him.

Hermanubis's spirit was suspiciously calm, with an almost pleased murmur. It's a notable difference from his grunts of dissatisfaction toward anyone else.

He is intrigued, Tighnari is capable of silencing the desert gods, capable of eclipsing each of the shadows that climb the walls to disturb his existence.

"Cyno," he says after a long moment, when they've been studying in silence for hours and Cyno must leave. "That's my name." He doesn't know why he says it; it will only motivate him to follow him, but perhaps that's what, selfishly, Cyno wants.

Tighnari looks at him with a pleased smile. "See you later, Cyno."

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Tighnari's determination must be recognized; it is unbreakable.

He manages to find him during every break between classes and allows him to sneak out after hours so as not to disrupt his plans as General Mahamatra.

Sometimes he accompanies him to the library with his own books; other times, he surprises him during lunchtime with an extra lunchbox. Sometimes he even follows him outside of work and they have dinner together.

He can't say it's unpleasant, because it isn't. It's pleasurable in a way he only had the pleasure of experiencing a few times, so few that he could count them on one hand.

Tighnari's presence is welcome and pleasant, though a voice in his head constantly tells him he is not worthy of his presence. Their existences should exist on different planes of the same universe, never intersecting so as not to disturb the universal peace.

Cyno would break the universal peace for a moment with Tighnari, allowing the spirit within him to swallow him whole.

Cyno feels anxious, longing, a condition he has not suffered since his last days of hunger in the desert.

He hates his new need for companionship, the enjoyment of another person's presence; these are things people like him shouldn't  desire, let alone experience.

But he does, and he feels as grateful as he does miserable. He tells himself over and over that he's not okay, but being with Tighnari silences all those voices. It doesn't help that not even Hermanubis deigns to reproach him, probably aware of the hybrid's innocence.

They end up, unintentionally, becoming something like friends, as close as a criminal can be to an innocent person.

Naturally, Cyno graduates before Tighnari, but continues to visit him, the hybrid having been very clear in emphasizing that he mustn't dare disappear.

So one day, Cyno goes to Pardis Dhyai to visit Tighnari, which goes as well as possible until he realizes that even if Tighnari and he were friends, most people wouldn't look kindly on them.

"Look, poor Tighnari, that matra always comes to bother him..." murmurs one of the scholars, too close to them to go unnoticed.

He and Tighnari sit in silence, staring at one of his plants. He knows Tighnari must be listening, but he's grateful he doesn't say anything.

"Right? And he must be very busy with his thesis," the other replies.

"I heard General Mahamatra is a desert dweller. He's probably extorting Tighnari."

"—It's clear, why else would he go out with him?"

"I don't know if I'd trust Tighnari if he got involved with a desert dweller. He must be up to no good..."

Oh. Well, the last thing Cyno wants is to affect Tighnari's reputation; he's used to people saying a lot of things about him, and he almost doesn't care anymore, but he can't let that affect Tighnari.

If it's his presence that's causing all this commotion...

"Excuse me!" Tighnari abruptly stands up and walks briskly toward the scholars. "If you were trying to be discreet, I tell you, you're failing. And I find it in very poor taste to speak of others like that. Why don't you just say it to my face?"

Cyno is shocked and terrified: such behavior will only further damage his reputation.

The two scholars stand there in embarrassment.

"—Tighnari-san! It's just... well, we were worried about your safety with the matra..."

"I assure you there's nothing to worry about, and discriminating against desert dwellers is extremely ignorant and stupid behavior. I was hoping for more than two scholars, but I see they're already letting any fool into the Academiya."

"You must know what they say about desert dwellers! They're not to be trusted..." the other interrupted.

Tighnari glares at him. "And you should know better than to believe everything you hear. Aren't you supposed to be at the Akademiya to learn? And you believe everything? Why would the desert dwellers all be criminals? Why do they deserve less decent treatment than you?"

"It's in their blood!"

At this point Tighnari begins to growl, completely furious and irritated, Cyno forces himself to approach to stop him before he does anything worse.

"It's okay, Tighnari." He puts his hand on his shoulder, leading him away from the scholars.

"It's not okay!" Tighnari looks at him in anguish. "You shouldn't have to accept such bad treatment just because people are so ignorant!"

Cyno grimaces. "This deal isn't bad at all compared to what it was before."

"That's worse!" he exclaims. "Just because you've been treated so poorly doesn't mean you should settle for anything less mediocre."

He doesn't understand why Tighnari's eyes fill with tears, suffering for him, so sad for someone like him.

"I don't deserve your anguish, Tighnari." He reaches out to wipe away his tears; his thumb barely touches his cheek.

And Tighnari hiccups. “You deserve to be treated with dignity, Cyno… you deserve to be loved.”

And honestly, it's a little uncomfortable to see the scholars still standing there, with their surprised faces.

"We're so sorry..." A scholar approaches. "T-Tighnari-san was right, we were stupid and ignorant..."

"We're sorry, General Mahamatra..."

The two turn and run away, quickly disappearing from Pardis Dhyai.

After a moment, Cyno turns to look at the hybrid. "I'm sorry, Tighnari."

"What?"

"The last thing I want is to affect your reputation, it seems my presence here is fruitless."

"Of course not, Cyno, of course not..."

"Tighnari..."

"I'm leaving the Academiya."

Cyno blinks a couple of times, amazed. This wasn't what he expected, not from someone like Tighnari, with such a promising future at the institution. People needed people like Tighnari, who would teach them to respect every life, to care for it, and to be kind.

"Why?" he asks.

Tighnari shrugs. “The Academy isn’t what I imagined as a child. Everyone is so rude, so greedy, and the Sages are no better. I don’t want to be in such a corrupt institution that only cares about itself.”

"But..."

"I've made a decision, Cyno." Tighnari looked him in the eye. "When I graduate, I'll become a Ranger. There I'll be able to put my knowledge to better use and directly help the forest. They do more for Sumeru than the Akademiya itself, Cyno. You should see them..."

And Cyno knows,  he knows  that the Akademiya doesn't care about its people or its forests. The best thing he could do was help in his own way from within, be the one who looked after his people, even if it meant an enormous workload. He would make sure they ran smoothly, even if it brought him more enemies and a worse reputation.

And Cyno doesn't know much about the forest, but he knows it's in bad condition, and Cyno can't take care of the forest, he wouldn't know how to do it properly.

But Tighnari  knows  .

He knows, and always knew, that Tighnari was destined for bigger things than just a job at the Akademiya; like a future written in the stars.

"Okay," he says. "I support your decision, Tighnari."

Tighnari smiles with relief, takes a step towards him and takes his hands.

He takes a step closer, but before taking another, he stops. As if coming to, he lowers his head and blinks hard.

"Thanks, Cyno."

"Thank you for your heroic act." He smiles.

Tighnari wrinkles his nose, embarrassed. "Let's not talk about it."

"Oh, I won't forget it..." He laughs.

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Shortly after Tighnari moves to Gandarva Ville, Cyno notices his presence there.

It was strange to go to the jungle, with its humid and sticky climate, with the hundreds of mosquitoes biting every piece of skin they saw, he buttoned up his cloak and never took it off again.

It's nice to see Tighnari, with her vibrant humor and cheerful chatter. He now wears more comfortable clothes and has his own unique style, with short hair and a bow in his back.

But every villager looks at him with strangeness, with discomfort.

He assumes that's the effect he always has. But for some reason, it affects him even more here, where Tighnari lives.

And once again, just before walking towards Tighnari's hut, he overhears a conversation between two villagers.

"That General comes to see Tighnari a lot, I wonder if he's bothering him..." a girl says with concern.

"I hope he's okay..."

And he remembers that conversation at Pardis Dhyai, ​​he remembers the murmurings when people learned that Cyrus had adopted a desert dweller, he remembers the look of hatred on the faces of the Sages whenever he got a good grade, he remembers all the times he was wrongly accused when he was a scholar.

I don't know if I'd trust Tighnari if he slept with a desert dweller. He must be up to no good...

And Cyno remembers, and remembers, and remembers.

And he turns around, just as one of the elders appears in front of him.

"General Mahamatra," he begins in a calm, aged voice. "Forgive them, they're just nervous about their position, but don't worry, they have no bad intentions."

But Cyno knows , why would it be any different here? Why would Cyno be more deserving of Tighnari here than there? If Cyno remained a sinner, a monster wherever he went.

"Thanks for your work," the old man says, watching him reach into his pocket and pull out a lollipop.

"Hey, I'm not a kid..." he says unsure.

"That doesn't mean you don't like lollipop, does it?"

Cyno takes the lollipop hesitantly.

"Careful, General." He says goodbye, turns around, and walks slowly toward a cabin.

And Cyno looks at the palette, looks at Tighnari's cabin in the distance.

He looks at the villagers, he looks at the forest and the animals; suddenly distressed and terribly sad.

Wants and yearns.

But Cyno remembers and knows.

He's not allowed any of this, not him, corrupt and contaminated as he is; not with everything he knows and everything he's been through.

Then Cyno turns around, cowardly and sad as he is.

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III.

There is only one person Cyno can think of to entrust with a task like this, only one person he can trust with the innocence of a child and know that they will not corrupt it, only one person he knows treats even flowers with a fragile and unique delicacy.

Collei is a small, fragile girl. After the worst, only her vulnerability remains: a small, overly thin body; bones as fragile as branches; gray scales, a promise of an early, terrifying death; large, bright eyes.

It's difficult to get her to talk to him, but the journey from Monstadt to Sumeru is long enough to peel back carelessly constructed layers of fear.

They camp together, during the night Collei sleeps and Cyno watches until the sun rises and then sleeps for a few hours, making sure to get up before her to prepare breakfast.

It must be the most peaceful trip he's ever had. He's not constantly searching through bushes or the darkness of the deep forest; he's contemplating every animal and plant he's vaguely familiar with and explaining it to Collei.

Try a new technique he had practiced before and tell jokes and puns that come to mind.

He's aware of his poor attempts at entertainment to lighten the mood, but it's all he can do.

He wish he were better, he wish his eyes weren't a reflection of his curse; that his words were longer and softer; that he could smile more and tell funny stories; but he can't.

He was never versed in words despite his Haravatat studies, and even the conversational practices he had with Cyrus did not help him stop being an outcast.

Children are more complex; he had never known how to play with them or how to talk to them. He knows better than to treat them as if they're incapable, so he tries hard to talk to them like anyone else, but Cyno is still a misfit compared to anyone he's ever met.

Fortunately, Collei seems to appreciate that he's not constantly trying to amuse her; she looks exhausted and much older than she really is, despite being so young.

They are formal, which is quite unusual for a twelve-year-old girl.

But Collei marvels at every story and legend he tells her, every piece of information he has to share, and even recites poems to him every time she closes her eyes to sleep.

It's the best he can do; his voice isn't made for singing, and anything he attempts would sound like nothing more than a profane attempt to reach heaven; so he doesn't sing, but recites poems, verses he knows by heart and paragraphs from books he remembers.

Normally, he'd be embarrassed. He'd never recited poetry out loud to anyone, and no one had ever heard him talk about paradise or eternal life; no one, until now.

Collei witnesses a side of her that he never showed to anyone, Cyno hadn't even given it much thought, he was just desperate for her to feel comfortable with him.

At first, he thought Collei was asleep; on their first nights camping in the forest, when he began his usual soliloquy; as he watched the stars twinkle in Selene's dark cloak, after her third poem, he glanced at Collei, who was watching him with intent eyes and full attention. She said nothing, but Cyno continued talking, describing the desert dunes, describing a promised paradise of milk and honey, of peaceful nights and dreams as sweet as peach trees.

Collei slept surprisingly quickly that night, and the next morning, although she didn't speak to him either, he noticed the softness in her eyes, noticed the considerably shorter distance compared to previous times.

When night fell again, he didn't miss the way Collei lay down with less reluctance, nor the way she looked at him expectantly.

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During lunch that evening, Cyno tells her about someone he has come to trust, a ranger from the Avidya Forest with a reputation as a diligent and kind teacher.

He tells her of his soft features and delicate touch, of how he has never damaged a single petal and how the animals don't even bother to growl at him; of how the tigress mothers of Rishboland entrust their cubs to him, and how children crowd around him.

He speaks of rains that sprinkle the trees and of greenish hues full of vitality and joviality. Speaks of kind villagers and indulgent elders with pockets full of sweets and genuine smiles.

Speaks of promises of better lives, of lasting peace. Of songs that the fauna dedicates to its goddess, the Moon, of winds that inspire melodies.

And Collei absorbs every word, every step on the abundant grass of Avidya is increasingly lighter and happier, it is almost a leap of happiness, of impatience.

Even in the forest night, with mosquitoes buzzing around him, Collei gazes in awe at every green leaf he catches. The cream he gave her to prevent bites works wonders, though the slightly sticky sensation clings to his limbs in a way he's not used to.

When he glimpses the lights of the wooden houses surrounding the trees, he realizes that it would probably have been better to send a letter to announce his arrival and also his proposal.

Still, he's unfazed, because it's the only possibility he's considered, and because Cyrus is too old and tired to put him through it again, even when it's different.

He knocks on the frame of the sliding door, gently but firmly against the surrounding wood. Footsteps are heard inside the house before the sliding curtain of leaves slides open.

Tighnari looks majestic with age, more vibrant and at ease than before. His skin regains a healthy, beautiful glow, his cheeks rosy, and his lips red.

His eyes shine magnificently, a juxtaposition of brown and green, softly separated and as clear as clouds with a deliciously white star in the middle.

His lips part slightly in a circle of surprise, a confusion passing over his expression that only deepens when he looks at the girl at his side.

"Good evening, Ranger Tighnari. Would it be too forward of me to request lodging in your abode for my companion and me?"

Tighnari blinks rapidly between him and Collei, before taking a few steps back to let them pass. "No, come in."

Before Collei's eyes, Cyno enters first with her holding his belt to follow him.

Tighnari's house is small and comfortable, with a small wooden dining room in the center and a kitchen behind it, next to which is a small space with a rug and an armchair facing a window. There is a small hallway that leads to a bedroom and another to what appears to be an office.

There are potted plants, books and papers on every surface, the only empty table is the dining room table.

He sits at the dining table with Collei at his side, Tighnari makes a gesture of taking the chair opposite him to sit before changing his mind.

"Hey... I was just about to have dinner. Do you want some?" he asks uncertainly.

Collei looks at him without saying anything and he decides for her.

"If it's possible and it's not a bother, it would be a great favor."

"Okay..." Tighnari looks at them a little longer in silence before heading to the kitchen and serving the food onto plates.

Collei observes her surroundings, between fascinated and fearful.

"It's some tofu in a sauce with vegetables. Sorry, I didn't know I was having company, but I can get some meat if you want." Tighnari places the plates in front of them and leaves one more for himself.

"I apologize once again for our sudden arrival. The food looks delicious," he says. Collei picks at the food enthusiastically before taking a bite. She doesn't say anything but glances at Tighnari and then back at him with wide eyes.

"It's okay," Tighnari tells him, unable to read his expression, and unfortunately, his tail remains tucked under the table, his ears perked up toward the ceiling, alert.

They eat in relative silence, Tighnari looks at him expectantly and he himself knows that he should say something to fill the silence, unfortunately, nothing comes to mind.

"Mm..." He clears his throat. "Do you want to hear a joke?"

Tighnari's ears twitch immediately and Collei's attention returns to him.

"Why was the mushroom invited to every party?" he asks. Collei waits, and Tighnari is between stirring his food and sighing. He waits a moment for an appropriate punchline and then speaks again. "Because he was real fun-gi" he finishes, pleased with himself.

Despite his satisfaction, he is greeted by silence from his expectant audience.

Tighnari finally decides to speak. "That wasn't really funny," he says.

Cyno frowns. He'd read a book of plant jokes, and this one was one of the best. It was also the easiest to grasp, according to his own criteria. "I thought it was clear enough," he mutters, his chin between his fingers.

Collei, at his side, gently pokes him. He turns to look at her, and she waits for him with curious eyes. "I didn't understand," she says.

He sees. So it really wasn't very clear.

"Let me explain: By saying he was a real fun-gi I'm making a pun on the word fun and gi, since a mushroom belongs to the fungi kingdom and since fun-gi can sound like fun-guy, not that a mushroom is actually fun since it's an inanimate object, but it's just a pun."

The girl looks at her plate, muttering. "I see..." She thinks for a few seconds. "because he was a real fun-gi..." She muses.

It's only after a few seconds that Collei begins to laugh, a low, continuous sound that he had learned to appreciate.

Jokes weren't something he made recurrently, even when he himself found them entertaining. He was aware of people's tense and uncomfortable reactions; he wasn't ignorant; he knew his jokes must have been bad in people's ears, even if he didn't know why.

But Collei enjoyed them, even if she didn't immediately understand them.

To think that it would be a little girl who would bring out parts of him that he had kept restricted.

He already had a certain affection for her.

That's why he had to get away from her, it was the best thing for Collei, for everyone.

It was a given that anyone who stayed close to him would eventually get hurt. And there was only one person Cyno could trust to take care of such an innocent soul.

Tighnari remained silent, but his expression turned to surprise, and he looked thoughtful. Finally, he smiled slightly and stood up, gathering his dishes and quickly placing them in the sink before returning with them.

"Collei can sleep in my bed. You must be tired. I'd like to talk a little more with Cyno before we sleep." He smiled at Collei, and although she seemed reserved, she clearly trusted him enough to meet his gaze.

"I'm deeply grateful," he whispered softly. Collei looked at him expectantly.

Tighnari led the way to his room. A fluffy bed with blankets and pillows, a desk and chair on one side, a tall clothes rack, and more plants.

"You can sleep here." Tighnari pointed at the bed.

Collei stood in front of the mattress but turned to look at them nervously, her gaze shifting between Tighnari and him.

Tighnari, always more perceptive to emotions than he was, spoke. "I'll leave you for a moment."

When Tighnari left the room, Cyno turned to look at Collei.

"Are you okay?" He knelt in front of her on one knee.

"Where will you sleep?" he asked quietly.

Oh. "I will rest outside your room, making sure your dreams are light and safe. To make your rest restful enough, I will stand guard to watch over your dreams."

Collei seemed satisfied enough with his answer and lay back on the bed, with only a blanket covering her.

Cyno walked over to arrange the rest of the pillows and blankets around her in a comfortable position.

When Collei looked sufficiently covered, she spoke again, her eyes narrowed with exhaustion and her cheeks flushed.

"Tell me something?" she whispered weakly, with the voice of someone about to cry.

It broke his heart, and he didn't know why.

"Always, golam." Cyno took the desk chair and moved it to the side of the bed.

He gently reviewed a poem by Nizar Qabi in his mind before deciding to start with some short ones.

"My darling, I have much to say

Where o precious one shall I begin ?

All that is in you is princely

O you who makes of my words through their meaning

Cocoons of silk

These are my songs and this is me

This short book contains us

Tomorrow when I return its pages

A lamp will lament

A bed will sing

Its letters from longing will turn green..."

.
.
.

When he leaves the room, Collei is sleeping peacefully on the mattress with the fluffy sheets surrounding her.

Tighnari sits in the armchair, a warm cup in his hands that he stares into.

"I didn't know you recited poetry," he says in a low voice, without looking at him.

"I don't usually do that," he admits. He sits down next to him at the opposite end of the armchair. "I have a weakness for poetry." And for Collei , he doesn't admit.

"That makes sense. I always thought you had a very ostentatious way of speaking," he says.

He doesn't understand why, but the atmosphere feels fragile and intimate. He's slightly nervous at the prospect of inappropriately breaking it.

"I didn't know you had a daughter," Tighnari tells him.

"She's not mine." The words taste bitter. "Actually, I came here with a bold request, a favor, even though I know I'm in no position to ask you for anything. Feel free to decline if it's too much."

Tighnari turns to look at him with narrowed eyes, attentive.

"The Fatui experimented on her. She has Eleazar, and they tried to reanimate the remains of an archon with her, but I've already sealed it away. She needs a place to stay, and I don't trust the Akademiya to preserve the innocence of her heart. She's suffered too much and is too fragile to fall into greedy hands." He explains quickly. "To protect the fragile innocence of her heart and the refuge of her dreams, I trust only you to guard the most delicate of petals."

Tighnari stares at him without blinking, his eyes wide and open. He opens his mouth a couple of times, but only gibberish comes out.

"W-What?"

"I know it's too much to ask. I'm not asking you to take care of her expenses and education. I'll make sure to send enough money for any expenses and provide for anything she needs. I'm asking you to take care of her and give her an education. It's a lot, but the child is illiterate, and I don't trust anyone else to care for her. I know you, Tighnari. I know there is no one more suitable and capable than you."

Caring for a child is a heavy burden, no doubt. Cyno wouldn't even know how to begin, and his job doesn't allow him to settle down, which wouldn't be healthy for her.

Tighnari blinks rapidly.

"But if my heart's desires are an impossible burden to fulfill, which I realize, then don't feel pressured to accept. You should know that there will be no repercussions for any refusal, and that I am not here as General Mahamatra, but as Cyno, and the favor I ask of you comes purely from my heart."

Finally, Tighnari comes out of his stupor with a sigh, his ears falling forward on his head, revealing his sadness.

"How could I say no when you ask me like that?" He whispers fragilely, hugging himself, looking small.

"If my selfishness has brought distress to your abode, please allow me to apologize once again. It was never my intention to bring you distress; do not allow my words to influence such important decisions."

"Okay." Tighnari says, finally looking at him, his eyes soft. "I want to do it, but I have my own conditions."

"Say it and I'll do it," he declares.

Tighnari's cheeks turn a beautiful red, camellias adorning his petal-like skin.

"I know you care about her, and I know she cares about you," he begins. "You have to come visit her."

"But..."

"No buts!" He points at him, his face furious. "I know you think you're protecting people by staying away, but you haven't realized how much your absence hurts." When he continues, his voice is a whisper. "Don't do that to Collei."

Cyno staggers in grief, it hurts more than the stabbing he suffered not long ago by a particularly violent scholar.

Tighnari always had that ability, to fill his heart with joy as easily as he was able to hurt him.

Cyno entrusts him with his life.

"What else?"

Tighnari sighs. "You'll send me letters," he says. "We need to talk about Collei's condition frequently, so I'll send you letters, and you must reply as well."

"Very well." He had already thought about it; He'd need to know about any expenses.

"And..." Tighnari approaches him slowly and imperceptibly. "Don't go any further away from me."

Anything .

"Okay," he whispers, head down.

Tighnari passes him a cup of warm rose-flavored tea.

They both sip slowly, enjoying the remaining warmth of the drink before it cools. A girl sleeps peacefully in the bed; and two hearts beat in the room, a spirit that has long since stopped growling.

Celestia, allow me this. Everything has been taken from me, but a moment here is enough to deal with a lifetime of punishment.

His greatest sin was being born, a punishment he would carry for the rest of his life; his greatest greed was Tighnari, a punishment he would carry for the rest of his life.

.

Cyno lets Tighnari bring blankets and pillows to the living room rug, fluffing them into a circular shape, resulting in something resembling a very comfortable nest.

"How is it?" Tighnari stands to the side of his most recent work. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he looks anxious and impatient.

He swallows carefully, and thinks about his words more than he probably should.

"It's beautiful," he comments. He knows this is one of Tighnari's ways of showing affection, and complimenting him pleases him greatly. "It looks very comfortable, thank you, Tighnari."

Tighnari looks pleased with his answer, his tail swishing from side to side happily and his smile is satisfied as he snorts happily.

"Very well, then we will sleep here."

"Oh, there's no need, Tighnari. I can sleep on the couch..." He offers.

But his proposal doesn't seem to go down well, as Tighnari's ears fall back and he stares at his nest.

"Why? You don't like it?" He pouts, bends down, and starts fluffing the pillows, his tail thumping on the floor.

"No! It's not that!" He crouches down beside him to soothe his distress, weighing his options. He doesn't know what emotion it's stirring in his stomach, but he can overcome it as long as he makes Tighnari happy. "It's just... I was wondering if it would be alright for me to sleep in a place you've built so magnificently. It would be an honor for me, if you'd allow it."

Tighnari struts through his speech, his eyes blinking slowly as if caressing his cheeks with his eyelashes; with a discreet smile.

"I'll allow it." He replies as Cyno feels a soft fur playfully hit his face, Tighnari lifts himself slightly to adjust in his nest.

Once the hybrid settles in, Cyno can't help but compare it to a real nest, with Tighnari waiting in the middle to curl up.

His heart aches, his breath catches in his throat at the angelic sight; he feels like a sinner setting foot on the promised land.

Hesitantly, he settles between the sheets, careful not to ruin it's shape, ending up facing Tighnari with their legs touching.

Tighnari sits up a little to reach for a blanket, which he places over them, and finally snuggles into his chest without reservation. The warm presence in his arms makes him throb, and he hesitates where to place his hands, unsure if he's allowed so many indulgences.

But Tighnari clings to his waist, nuzzles his neck, and entangles their legs, chest to chest, hearts touching and beating in unison. A melody of respite, a bow to Morpheus, Melinoe wouldn't dare reveal herself to a presence like Tighnari's, not even to torment Cyno, who is anything but a hero.

"Sweet dreams, azaizam." Tighnari whispers against his skin, a gentle kiss as hot as a star.

"Sleep in peace, I'll watch over your dreams." He murmured against his hair, felt Tighnari's rapid heartbeat resonating against his chest as if it were his own.

Tighnari hugged him tighter, his tail encircling his ribs.

.

Naturally, when Cyno wakes up after Tighnari, (he sits down at the table and Collei leaves the room wearing his cloack half-drowsy) his first reaction is to run away.

Tighnari hums in the kitchen, pouring a delicious-smelling pancake mix into the pan. Collei returns from brushing her teeth and sits next to him.

"I hope your dreams were pleasant and peaceful, Collei." He greets with a formal nod.

Collei presses her lips together without looking at him, a blush rising on her cheeks. "I had a very light sleep," she says.

Joy grows in his body, a warmth that surrounds every nerve, rekindling every bone.

""It fills my soul with boundless elation to learn of the serenity that graced your repose, Collei." A smile spreads across his lips, involuntarily.

Collei looks at him with wide, fascinated eyes. "...elation?...b-boundless?" She murmurs to herself.

Tighnari arrives at that very moment, placing a wooden bowl full of chopped fruit.

"You're going to confuse the kid with so many confusing words." He snorts, turning to look at Collei with a kind smile. "Do you understand everything Cyno tells you?"

Collei looks at her fingers, playing with them. "No, but I like the way he talks," she murmurs. "It's like listening to a song."

"Oh." Cyno feels embarrassment in his ears, sweat on the back of his neck. He thinks the implication is the sweetest he's ever received, an antonym to anything he's heard before, where his eyes are a symbol of curse and his voice, of perdition.

"Mmm, look at that." Tighnari rests his chin on the back of his hand with a very interested smile. "The General Mahamatra is embarrassed. No one would believe me even if I told them."

"I have a reputation to uphold, Tighnari," he begins softly. "You can't go bragging about this new find of yours." His voice comes out breathless.

"It's a find I'd like to keep for myself, don't worry, General."

When they finish eating Tighnari's pancakes, overflowing with fruit and honey, Cyno makes sure to look back closely at his bright, sweet lips. He pays unusual attention to Collei's green hair and her eyes, sparkling with innocence and fragility; he memorizes Tighnari's freckles like desert constellations, listens to his velvety voice and memorizes it like a melody.

"Do you have to leave today?" Tighnari escorts him out of his cabin. Collei draws on the rug, absorbed in the intricacies of color, amazed by the strokes she creates like someone who has never seen a crayon before.

No , but he has to.

He's never felt such joy, such happiness and calm before; he doesn't want to get used to it only to return to Tartarus later, because the absence will hurt.

"Yes." He answers, looking at the floor. He can't bear to lie to Tighnari. It hurts even more to lie to someone who has held his heart so tenderly.

Tighnari's expression gives nothing away, but his ears droop as does his tail.

"Okay," he says softly. "Don't forget to write," he tells him. "And visit us often."

"Alright."

Tighnari stares at him, opens his mouth, and closes it again with a blush on his cheeks.

Timidly, he reaches out and strokes his hand with his other. "Take good care of yourself."

"Always." He answers.

"And come back." It comes out as a question.

"Always." He says.

He dares, impiously, to run his knuckles along Tighnari's cheek, and he responds by leaning into his touch.

When he lets go, he looks at Collei drawing, at Tighnari and his sweet gaze.

And he decides to leave, out of pure cowardice.

.
.
.
.

IV.

Days pass and turn into months, months slowly turn into years.

He can't help but notice how easy it is to fit in with Tighnari, how easy it is to be with him, like he belongs there.

At first he refuses to spend the night, unable to bear the pain of kindness again; but Tighnari persuades him quickly enough.

He seems to realize the effect his distress has, how quickly Cyno tries to diffuse it. He asks for it with his ears drooping, sometimes holding his tail in his arms for added effect.

And well, Cyno is weak, even when he knows he's being mocked.

"Are you staying?" Tighnari asked, holding his tail. Collei had only been gone for a few minutes to sleep.

Cyno told him he was leaving, that he had to arrive before dawn, Tighnari had other plans.

Not for the first time, he wondered if Tighnari felt shame in using such a trick, in using his tail for the purpose of looking comforting ; Tighnari was quite proud of his tail and ears, often getting annoyed when people treated him as if they were only there for cuteness and not for practicality; not because of the way his ears allowed him to hear so effectively; they were more focused on how soft they looked.

"I- um..."

"Come on, Cyno," Tighnari begins, approaching him, hugging his tail closer to his face. "Are you staying over?"

"Uh..." He is about to agree, already persuaded.

However, at the same second, Collei enters the cabin abruptly.

"I forgot my cloak!" she jumps up, stopping in the doorway, staring at Tighnari.

Tighnari remains silent, hugging his tail tighter, his cheeks burning red.

"...I think, I think you left it on the couch." Cyno clears his throat nervously.

"...oh, yeah, um..." Collei gestures awkwardly toward the armchair. "I'll..." She quickly reaches for the cloak, snatching it violently.

"Good night," he says.

"...Good night." Tighnari murmurs.

"Thank you..." Collei clears her throat once more, looks back before leaving to say something but decides not to, quickly leaving the room.

Tighnari stood awkwardly in front of him, his eyes fixed on the ground and a tight grip on his tail.

His face was completely red, his lips pressed together until they turned white.

Cyno turned to look at him, a laugh in his chest that he pushed down like a champion.

"...I'll stay for the night." He placed his hand on his shoulder, a poor consolation.

He decided to give it to him, after all, he had earned it.

This time, as Cyno silently walks towards Avidya Forest, he mentally prepares for tonight's blackmail.

This time, he really can't stay; he has work to do at his office, paperwork he left pending so he could come to dinner.

But the report must be submitted to the Sages tomorrow, so he must return to finish it.

Think of the round, rosy cheeks, the fluffy tail caressing them; think of Collei and her pout; think of Tighnari's bed, soft and fluffy, warm and spongy.

He thinks about his incomparably cold bed but that doesn't help convince himself, so he thinks about his duty instead .

That hits him like a cold bucket of water.

His duty was not to cuddle up at night, to look after a child or to enjoy cheerful dinners.

His duty was to care for and protect, to judge those who have corrupted knowledge, those who follow what is forbidden without regard for the consequences.

His steps stop dead in their tracks. Maybe he shouldn't even go, it's for the best.

He could turn around and pretend he was never there, Tighnari would continue his life without problems, without needing Cyno, he never needed him.

Tighnari, splendid, easily cheerful, prone to laughter and oblivious to the corruption of the world.

And Cyno? A skeptic and a secularist, a little insignificant . He has difficulty laughing and smiling, has trouble communicating with people, and is prone to punishment.

But he can't think about it any longer, because the sound of quick footsteps approaching him distracts him and activates his instinct.

He raises his spear in an instant, in a breath the invader finds his throat against the tip of his weapon.

"Cyno!" Tighnari raises his hands with a mocking smile, there is no fear or fright in his features.

"You should reflect more on the dangers of trying to capture the General Mahamatra." He lowers his spear.

"Are you bragging about your title now?" He jokes.

"I wouldn't dare before the General Watchleader Tighnari."

Tihnari wrinkles his nose at that. "Ugh, no, please don't."

Over time, Tighnari had memorized the sound of his feet, to the point where Cyno couldn't go unnoticed even if he tried, he believes that the only time Tighnari didn't hear his footsteps was when he didn't know him yet.

"I'm joking." He smiles.

"I know." He sighs. "Come on, Collei is waiting for dinner"

Cyno gazed upon Tighnari, so made by the hands of the gods, a perfect and gentle creature, cared for by the hands of his creator and blessed; a kind and easy smile, alabaster hands for all who sought compassion and care, he had not even rejected Cyno, monstrous as he was.

Cyno, unworthy of kindness and affection, unworthy of food or rest; every moment with Tighnari provoked a fervent desire to yearn for his goodness and kindness, until he saw the reflection of his own existence or the shadow in his walk, and then all hope vanished in the icy, brutal cold.

He walked at a distance, so far away that Tighnari noticed as well; he glanced behind him but said nothing, even as their pace slowed until they were walking side by side.

Once they arrived at their cabin, Collei was waiting for them, sitting at the table with the plates already set out. Pita pocket, Collei's specialty.

Once Collei mastered the pita pocket recipe (the only dish Tighnari allowed her to make due to her weakness), they would eat pita pocket for days on end, eventually decreasing to several times a week and eventually a month. She mastered the recipe so well that she already had her own way of preparing them, so distinctive that he could differentiate a regular pita pocket from Collei's pita pocket by the sheer smell, the sheer sight, or the sheer taste.

They were delicious, and Cyno had learned to look forward to them.

And then he questioned his audacity to even expect anything. Cyno didn't have that right. He'd received far more than he deserved, and every morning he woke up wondering when it would finally be taken away from him, with no chance to fight or speak.

Before, Cyno was afraid of nothing, but now, while Cyno loved, he was terrified .

He had no one who cared about his annihilation, and he wondered if it was even bolder to assume that he now had two people who would care.

"Hi, Collei." He says awkwardly. "Looks delicious."

Collei jumped in her seat, her cheeks flushed, her fingers twitching.
"General! I hope you like it."

Cyno failed to mention that he had tried his pita pocket hundreds of times, liked it every time, and enjoyed it even more because Collei added hot spices to his portions because she knew Cyno preferred hot.

The truth is, although they had started well, as time passed, Collei had become more nervous around him; instead of a more confident demeanor, Collei began to behave more formally and tensely around him, sitting upright and quiet, calm and demure.

Cyno sighed, it was the effect he caused.

Something that attracted him to Tighnari from the beginning was that he didn't hold back in what he said or did, he didn't hold back his scoldings or hold back from touching him.

They sat down at the table, Tighnari sat across from Collei and insisted that Cyno take the head, always leaving that seat for him, even when Cyno felt unworthy.

Maybe it was to keep a better eye on him.

Tighnari obsequiously offered iced lemon tea with sweetened orange juice, passed a pita pocket to Cyno, and poured one himself.

He never allowed him to help, Cyno had to arrive particularly early to help in the kitchen, and it was only after a long time that Tighnari allowed him to wash the dishes.

Cyno, on the other hand, tried to match it by arriving with books, fruit, plants, gifts, and basically anything they liked or needed; fortunately, Collei was still comfortable enough with writing letters to him, so Cyno knew what Tighnari wanted thanks to Collei, and knew what Collei wanted thanks to Tighnari.

They finally ate, and the dinner was as good as it could be. He told jokes he learned along the way, receiving exasperated looks from Tighnari and snorts of laughter from Collei (fortunately, she still liked them). Tighnari recounted how two adventurers fell into Spinocrocodile's pond, and the biggest problem wasn't that they were attacked, but that they couldn't swim.

When they finished eating, they thanked each other for the food and Tighnari cleared the plates at the same time that Collei said goodbye to sleep, going to her room with impatient steps.

Cyno moved to help clean the dishes, even though all he was doing was drying them with a towel.

"She's waiting for you, you know?" Tighnari told him after a while, whenever Collei was ready to sleep she would leave her door open for Cyno to come in.

"We're almost done here."

"When will the day come when you finally start reciting poems for me too?" Tighnari smirked. "I thought getting you into my bed would make you recite poems, but I see that's not the case..."

Cyno didn't know if the implication was intentional or if he was overthinking it, his cheeks heated up.

"I didn't know that was something you wanted." He sighed in embarrassment.

Tighnari's office was gone, becoming Collei's room, all his furniture moved into his room, and after Cyno had already stayed over more than a handful of times, he finally agreed to sleep in Tighnari's bed.

He liked it, maybe too much. Tighnari was never shy, and certainly wasn't shy afterward. He snuggled up to him as soon as they lay down and didn't let go.

Cyno wouldn't tell him that it was then that he stopped feeling cold, that his nights were finally not filled with fear.

Nor would he tell him about the enormous effort it cost him not to say, in the middle of the night, how peaceful Tighnari looked when he slept, that his cheeks were like soft white petals and how he felt that sensation of eternity that would awaken to true beauty.

"Now you know, don't you?" Tighnari smiled at him once more before pushing him with his hip, walking him to Collei's room. "Don't keep her waiting too long."

Still thinking about the implications of Tighnari's words, he walked slowly but audibly toward Collei's room so as not to surprise her.

It always felt too big for his chest to see her lying in bed with the covers up to her neck, waiting for his words. She reminds him of an even smaller, more tender Collei.

The shining eyes in the darkness didn't really say much at these moments, but sometimes that was just what Collei needed to avoid waking up to nightmares.

He stroked the blanket that covered her, Collei closed her eyes.

"Tell me something?" Collei always asked him.

"Always." Cyno always answered.

He never imagined that the poems he read, in whatever corners he found—for this wasn't men's literature, much less that of generals—would be used to lull a girl who was too fearful to sleep. Once, when Cyno was still a scholar, a superior officer found his book of poems and mocked him, claiming that such literature was useless and a waste of time, that poetry would do nothing but weaken him and reduce his masculinity. He clearly didn't know that poetry had taught Cyno things he could only learn by reading, that Collei only stopped screaming in her sleep when Cyno read to her.

It was easy to save people with brute force, but you couldn't heal them with brute force.

Cyno needed the eloquent and beautiful words of poetry, each stanza pouring out hope and promise; he needed Tighnari's gentle hands as he dragged him to see the dawn; he needed Collei's hopeful gaze every time she waited for him.

Now he buys more poetry collections without shame. In his mind, Collei's serene and peaceful face, his ability to calm her dreams, fills him with pride. With that in mind, he leaves his shame behind and starts Nazik Al Malaika.

"The night asks, who am I?

I am your anxious, dark, deep secrets.

I am your rebellious silence

I have veiled my nature, with silence,

It wrapped my heart in doubts

And solemnly, he remained here

looking, while the centuries ask me,

Who am I?

The wind asks who am I?

"I am his confused spirit, whom time has repudiated..."

.
.

As he leaves Collei's room, Tighnari welcomes him on the armchair with a cup of tea in his hand, while the scent of chamomile swirls through the hearth.

He sits next to him, Tighnari puts his tail on his lap.

It was hard for him to stay calm every time Tighnari brushed against him with his tail, not knowing what to do or how to react. It's easier now.

"Will you read poetry to me too?" Tighnari asks, scraping his cup.

He swallows nervously. "Is that what you want?"

"It starts with something."

And Cyno thinks, and thinks, and thinks and thinks.

"Spend the night?" Tighnari doesn't try to look at him pleadingly, but speaks in a low, strangely fragile and weak voice.

And Cyno thinks that's even worse than when he rubs his tail against his cheeks; raw, honest vulnerability.

"Alright."

.
.

Still thinking about Tighnari's proposal, Cyno tries to think if it was a joke, but he knows that mentioning it twice wasn't a coincidence, not with Tighnari.

They lie down, Tighnari against his chest, without looking at him. Although he doesn't say anything, Cyno senses his waiting, his anticipation.

His heart beats abnormally in his chest, its rhythm fast and overwhelming.
His hands are almost shaking, so he hugs Tighnari tighter.

With a dry throat, he swallows with difficulty and exhales.

He remembers the first poem he told Collei at Tighnari's house. He only told her a few verses, and for some reason he thinks it's time to recite the rest.

"My dear, I have much to say.

Where, oh precious one, shall I begin?

Everything in you is princely

Oh you who make my words through their meaning

silk cocoons

These are my songs and this is me.

This short book contains us

Tomorrow when I return your pages

A lamp will lament

A bed will sing

His letters of longing will turn green..."

It's not the only time he's said it, and it's far from the first, but it's more overwhelming than any of the other times.

He doesn't know why, every word seems too real to him, as if he were reading the poem for the first time, as if he was just now understanding the poem's meaning.

He has always loved romantic poems, he loves reading about that beautiful, incomparable and unique emotion.

It doesn't mean he's ever felt it. He never even dreamed of falling in love, of course not.

And he didn't mean to tell him that specific poem, he just thought it was appropriate.

His voice trembles as he begins the last part, his nerves on edge.

"Their commas are on the verge of flight

Don't say: why this young man?

Tell the winding road and the brook about me.

The almond tree and the tulip

So that the world can accompany me wherever I go?

Why did he sing these songs?

Now there is no star

That's not scented with my fragrance.

Tomorrow people will see me in their verses.

A mouth that tastes like wine, short hair

Ignore what people say

You will be great only through my great love.

What would have become of the world if we hadn't existed?

If your eyes had not existed, what would become of the world?"

Tighnari moves in his arms, but Cyno doesn't let him look at him, he hugs him tightly.

He is ashamed of the tears in his eyes.

He is even more ashamed of not knowing why he is crying.

"Please, Cyno..." Tighnari moans against his chest, clutching his back with nails he knows will leave marks. "Please, please..."

Cyno doesn't know what he's asking for, but panic invades every bone.

"Wait..." He asks, his voice coming out as a whisper.

"Please, Cyno..." he says again.

Cyno doesn't know what's coming, but tears almost jump out of his eyes, spilling out in a sideways motion until they end up in his ear.

"I love you, Cyno."

The tongue sticks to the palate, preventing him from saying anything.

"Always..."

"Always, Cyno..."

"Please, Cyno..." he sobs. "I love you..."

.
.
.
.

+1

From there things get complicated.

Cyno knew the risk of attachment, the distance makes him burn with pain, bleeding to death in an allegorical river until he drowns.

Pain always overwhelms everything, devastating every sensation until becoming numb; time and again he has to accustom himself to the pain, only to reel when it hurts  more  and repeat the cycle.

When he was little his parents sold him, he remembers that.

He remembers the hours on his knees, remembers the voice that humiliated him on the empty, gigantic walls.

He remembers Cyrus crying when he came home covered in bruises.

He remembers the teacher rejecting his project in front of the entire class, without even reading a word.

He remembers the teasing from the other matras when they found out he read poetry.

Remember the years of abuse in the Temple of Silence, all the beatings, the screaming, the humiliation, the pain.

He remembers the first time he tried to play with the neighborhood kids, only to be pointed at and made fun of.

He remembers little children crying when they saw his eyes, the rejection because of his skin color.

Remembers and remembers.

Painful memories are always easier to evoke, they come uninvited during his dreams.

Remembers the first time a scholar died in the crossfire of a fight, remembers his face in every dream, remembers his blood.

He always had trouble sleeping, for a while he tried not to, until Cyrus had to sleep next to him to comfort him every time he woke up screaming.

He remembers the faces of the hermits every time one of their number fell, a face of complete anger and contempt, with insults falling from their lips.

When he was a child and had just moved into Cyrus's house, he would wake up in the early hours of the morning with the power of Hermanubis tearing at his skin, the stench of the charred skin was terrible and the pain would make him lose consciousness at times.

He remembers the chains he wore on his feet, how they damaged his skin and deformed it. It took years for his wrists to regain a normal shape and for his feet to take shape.

Tries not to focus on all those memories, they're a waste of time and, frankly, exhausting.

The good memories, although fewer in number, were overwhelmingly bright.

He remembers Collei unconsciously holding his hand after falling asleep. She was about thirteen years old at the time, and it was one of the first times they made contact. Cyno was there for hours.

When Cyno was little, he didn't think or reflect; his life was spent in a haphazard, unconscious flow of events, probably for the best. But living with Cyrus, he began to have things, to have moments, to talk.

It was difficult to live after the constant abuse he had experienced. After moving in with Cyrus, it was as if Cyno were waiting to be beaten. He missed the violence and sleeping without knowing if he would wake up.

But that feeling disappeared over time, with patience and kindness.

He remembers Tighnari smiling warmly at him, he remembers the warm cup of tea in his hands, he remembers his acts of service, he remembers his voice, he remembers the pattern of each of his freckles—in general, he remembers everything about Tighnari.

During his teenage years, Cyno's every memory slipped through his fingers like sand. He couldn't remember how he got to places or what he'd done just hours before. He learned to live with it, not knowing what he said or did. It got so bad that one time Cyrus found him in the kitchen with a knife and a bleeding palm. He couldn't remember what he'd thought, and Cyrus took him to Burmastan when he admitted his condition. They gave him some pills, and he ate more and rested more, and... he got better.

He remembers when he met a boy named Kaveh at the Puspa café, looking for volunteers for opinions on an institution he was studying at; he complained and complained about the Akademiya and the Sages, then proceeded to drink with him until they were very drunk and laughing at everything (it was one of the first times he got drunk), he accompanied him to his dormitory and they fell down the stairs; he thought he would never see him again, but Kaveh was looking for him all over the Akademiya and only found him in the afternoon, he invited him to the Puspa café and this time Cyno paid for their drinks.

When he was eighteen, Cyno believed he'd be dead, not because he'd tried to take his own life, but because he somehow waited for the day he'd be murdered. But eighteen passed, and so did the days. What had once been a blinding rage turned into a weary sweetness. He learned to enjoy the little things, and after everything he'd been through, his existence no longer troubled him all the time.

He remembers that after deciding to stop visiting Tighnari in Gandarva Ville the first time, he locked himself in his office for a whole month, and the one who dragged him out was none other than The Scribe, Alhaitam. He hadn't expected it—he could hardly say they were acquaintances—but Alhaitam took him to Puspa Café for drinks, and they played TCG all night, until they were so drunk and tired that Nilou took them back to his apartment, and they both passed out in his living room. The next morning, Nilou made them breakfast and filled it with cheerful chatter.

Cyno always felt he had a different perception of the world, something distorted and just plain wrong .

And yet, he felt that he had had the pleasure of experiencing too many joys.

He's been avoiding the whole thing for two months and he's honestly miserable.

He tried not to shut himself away as much as last time, he made sure to eat and wash properly, but he still dreamed of green meadows and the breeze of rain.

He thought the nightmares were the worst, filled with blood, screams, pain, ghost faces, and pleading; but the sad ones were worse, showing Tighnari sad, Collei waiting in her bed unable to sleep, Cyno crying in Tighnari's arms.

Instead of waking up sweating or screaming, Cyno wakes up with tears streaming down his face, calm and silent, with heart-wrenching anguish.

He doesn't know what to do.

It seems so simple and yet so impossible. To know what you want and what you desire, but it's hard to shake off everything you've learned and been told all your life.

It's hard to ignore, it's terrifying.

So he ran away, of course, what a surprise.

He said nothing and didn't sleep, the next morning he was gone.

Pathetic.

But Cyno is terrified.

He is so terrified that he becomes a coward, he wants to cry, he wants to die for love.

Love . Because it always had been, hadn't it? He doesn't know, he's so sick in the head that he couldn't differentiate love from terror.

And Tighnari was brilliant, pure genuine kindness.

Cyno loved him, more than he realized.

"Boo, Cynooo, how long are you going to be here?" Dehya waved her hand in front of his face.

The three of them sat at a table in the middle of the night, the desert cold chilling their bones.

"Just a while," he murmured.

"Excuse her, Cyno. She's bored because her group was half a day late." Candace smiled at him pleasantly.

They drank hot coffee and a piece of bread, looking at the stars in a silent atmosphere, everyone had already gone to sleep.

"I say this because I'm worried about what your daughter and husband will say. They can be quite scary, you know?"

"I'm sure they won't tell you anything." Maybe never.

Candace's whistle.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Dehya shrugs.

"What are you talking about?"

This time, Candace answers. "Tighnari and Collei sent some letters recently asking how you're doing. They asked us to look after you since you haven't visited them in a while."

"Oh."

"Can you believe this guy? Letting his family worry like this? You should go visit them soon, they seem to miss you." Dehya snorts.

"Maybe I'll do it soon..." He murmurs, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Cyno," Candace begins. "Whatever you think you've done, I'm sure there's a solution."

"What if I'm the problem?"

Dehya looks at him. "Tighnari knows you well, and I think all of us who are your friends are aware that sometimes... sometimes your past catches up with you, and that's normal. But you are not your past, Cyno. You are one of the most honest and fair people I've ever met."

"We're your friends, Cyno." Candace smiles at him. "Because you're a wonderful person."

Cyno inhales sharply, his chest choked, his breath stifled. He feels an overwhelming urge to cry, a lump in his throat that's suffocating him.

"Crying is brave, Cyno, not weak." Candace moves closer to him, Dehya moves his coffee cup closer to him.

And Cyno drinks hot coffee with warm tears on his cheeks, for a moment his chest is no longer cold.

.
.

It takes exactly three more days before Kaveh finds him at the flea market.

"Cyno!" Kaveh puts an arm around his shoulders. "You haven't come to Lambad nights for so long. Tighnari said you weren't feeling very well. Are you okay?"

Tighnari hadn't betrayed him, not even when he'd hurt and avoided him. "I'm fine, getting better, I think." He looked at the ground.

Kaveh noticed. "You know you can count on me, right? We're friends, and if there's anything I can help you with, don't hesitate to let me know."

Friends .

Again and again. Despite his seemingly doomed fate, Cyno had managed to have a handful of dear friends, even a father and a daughter-like presence, far more than he should have.

"We can go to Lambad, just you and me." Kaveh smiles at him.

"Okay," he murmurs.

.

Contrary to popular belief, Kaveh was not an irresponsible alcoholic.

Cyno liked Kaveh, admired him and at the same time cared for him in a very close way, even if they didn't live together that much.

Kaveh orders a bottle of sweet fruity wine and some light snacks, nothing that will get them drunk.

Placing TCG cards on the table with ease and practicality, Kaveh rants about AlHaitham without real fury.

"That idiot, he leaves without breakfast and says ' I'll have a coffee ,' as if that makes it better. I had to stop by his office to deliver him some breakfast and stay until he finished." He babbles. He looks at his cards carefully. He had declared that this would be the night he would finally win, since he would not have Al Haitam's negative energy or Tighnari's skepticism.

"It reminds me of our days at the Akademiya," he says to himself.

Kaveh shows his enthusiasm by bumping his fists on the table while smiling brightly. "Yes! I had to bring you breakfast whenever you were too focused on something!"

He remembers it very well. In the dark, gloomy office, Kaveh would walk in, bringing with him the natural sunlight. He carried pastel yellow lunches in floral scarves, disconcerting to the rest of the team when they saw him walk in, only to see him .

He is a little ashamed to admit that Kaveh was one of the first people to see him vulnerable, in the presence of ugly sides of himself .

Cyno certainly wasn't a troublemaker or a rebel during his time at the Akademia; it would have taken a small thing to get him expelled, given the close surveillance he was under.
But he definitely wasn't very calm.

By the age of sixteen, Cyno had already perceived that the Sages were looking for any excuse to expel him from the Akademiya, so he remained upright and incorrigible in their eyes.

Outside, however, Cyno was constantly getting into fights, conducting dangerous experiments, and conducting dangerous research. He was careless, walking without hesitation even when he didn't know where he was.

He was violent.

It was hard to stop arguing with Cyrus like a raging, insecure teenager, but that was what Cyno was; he was raging and insecure, too angry with life and too hurt.

He didn't know how to vent; all he'd ever known was violence. Unbridled, senseless violence, uncontrollable and brutal.

So it made sense to fight. At night, he'd get into fights with other teenagers, drunks, hermits—basically anyone who gave him even the slightest excuse.

Cyrus knew it clearly, he noticed it. But it was hard to do anything when Cyno wasn't talking to him. He talked to him and tried to get him to think things through, but Cyno had grown accustomed to the beatings and found it hard to detach himself from the pain.

Kaveh found him once.

Lying against the trash can behind a bar, his cheek swollen and bruised, his head bleeding, and his eyes lost, Kaveh rushed to his aid, took him home, and did his best to treat his wounds with his instructions. Kaveh cried the whole time, from carrying him to laying him down on his bed; he even slept with him, only stopping crying when he fell asleep.

Kaveh felt too much , he felt everything very deeply.

That was what he liked most about Kaveh, and at the same time what worried him most: he could get hurt as easily as he could laugh.

That's why he always helped Cyno so much, feeling his wounds and traumas as his own, crying whenever Cyno couldn't seem to get tears out.

Complaining about things Cyno was already used to, in that respect Kaveh and Tighnari were similar.

"Ugh, the girl at the counter was always asking me so many questions to get into your office, insisting so much on whether I made a mistake..." He snorts. "What an idiot."

"No one would believe you were coming to visit me."

"Why?" He crosses his shoulders.

Cyno shrugs, looking down at himself. "Because it's me."

"So what?" Kaveh leans against the table to get closer to him.

The same response that angers Tighnari also annoys Kaveh. They simply don't understand. "You shine," he begins. "Like the summer sun against the sea, you carry happiness like stars in your purse." He scratches the table with his fingernail. "You light up every room you enter, that kind of presence... it's too stark a contrast to my existence."

When he looks at Kaveh, his lips purse down at the corners, his eyes shining. A tear rolls down his cheek.

He hears him swallow. "You're worth more than any of them, Cyno."

He thinks he's heard something similar.

Cyno is tired, tired to the bone, tired to death.

Tired of being sad.

He wants to believe, wants to accept the words and that's it. Not think about it anymore. But he can't. His mind screams at him that they're just kind words; his logic explains how that can't possibly be true, showing him every mistake he's made.

He doesn't reply except a murmur before focusing on his cards, but Kaveh pushes them down with his hand.

"Cyno, I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me, and it hurts me so much that you've suffered so much to be who you are." Kaveh's tears fade. "If I could bear your sadness, I would."

Cyno believes he has done nothing to deserve being held in such high regard by someone like Kaveh, so exalted and so distant. "You don't deserve that sadness, you don't deserve that burden."

"And why do you?"

Because he was born a sinner, because he deserved to be punished.

"There's no justification for what they did to you, Cyno. Never,  never  ." Kaveh insists, taking his hands, but his own are shaking. "You're just another human being, Cyno. You deserve a good life, you deserve respect... you deserve..." he sobs. "I wish I could apologize for what they did to you, I wish I could do something. You don't know how much it hurts me to know everything that's happened to you and not be able to do anything..."

And Cyno  thinks  it hurts, because Kaveh is such a good person, because he cries as if the pain were his own.

Sometimes Cyno doesn't understand what went wrong, Cyrus explained to him that it wasn't right for other kids to hit him, or insult him, that it wasn't right if it made him feel  bad  .

And he had a hard time understanding it, he endured everything they did to him because he didn't know what was happening to him.

When Collei was first taken in, it was difficult to get her to take any medication or injections; she fought, screamed, and ran away, terrified and furious.

When Cyrus tried to inject Cyno with vitamins when he took him in, Cyno's arm was already exposed when he saw the needle, without even knowing what it was.

He admired Collei for that, she had the will to fight and keep going, she was furious because she didn't know any better, because it was her method of defense to survive.

Cyno would have let himself die.

"Don't worry, Kaveh." He moves his chair closer to his until he can rest Kaveh's head on his shoulder. It's a little difficult with the height difference, but they manage. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Even if it doesn't hurt, the scar is still there," he murmurs in a hushed voice. "I wish you realized what a good person you are."

This time Cyno feels the need to respond, to explain why he's not, but he doesn't.

Even after paying the bill and walking to Kaveh and AlHaitham's house, he ignores what's really bothering him and instead focuses on trivial topics and jokes that make Kaveh laugh (apart from Collei, Kaveh also laughed at them, although he said it was because they were too bad).

"I hope you can come to the next meeting, Cyno," Kaveh says with a smile, his cheeks pink from tears and laughter.

Unexpectedly, Haitam opens the door to greet them.

"So he was with you?" AlHaitham looks at him.

"I ran into good old Cyno at the Bazaar, and we went out to Lambar for a while." Kaveh smiles at his companion, always too happy after crying, not remembering why he was angry with AlHaitham this time.

"Mmm, Tighnari won't be too happy to know he's been left out." He leans against the frame.

Cyno looks away at the mention.

"It was an adult event; you kids would feel excluded." Kaveh sticks his tongue out at him mockingly.

Suddenly, Cyno thinks of Lisa.

AlHaitham turns to look at him with no readable expression, he must know that Kaveh cried because he didn't even say anything to him when he opened the door for him, even though they didn't even knock, which could only mean that AlHaitham already knew that he didn't have his keys and didn't give them back to him either.

Lisa was his first friend. She didn't exclude him or insult him, she didn't belittle him or scorn him. She was the first person who didn't try to humiliate him or avoid him. She was the first person who didn't spit on the ground he walked on or disdain the air he breathed.

"That doesn't mean I'm special. It just means everyone here is worthless,"  Lisa had told him when he explained it. "Don't applaud me for not looking down on you. That's the least people deserve."

What would Lisa say if she saw him now?

"—Come back safe and sound, Cyno." Kaveh smiles at him.

"Thank you."

Kaveh gives him a big hug before entering his house, AlHaitham stays there for a moment longer.

"Cry?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"For me."

"Mm." AlHaitham looks up at the sky above them.

He knows he's going to say something else, so he waits.

AlHaitham doesn't waste his words, just contemplating what he will say already speaks volumes.

He think about what he will say about the Academiya, the job, or the missions.

"Kaveh talks about your adventures while you were studying," the Scribe begins. "Every time... he had that look..." He sighs and looks at him more closely. "You did well."

Not fully understanding, Cyno nods in recognition and AlHaitham enters his house.

Looks at the sky once more.

He misses Tighnari, he misses Collei, he misses Lisa.

He misses his father.

.
.
.

Visits to Cyrus are not rare, Cyno remembers and remembers, he would never forget what he did for him.

He never had the courage to call him father, but Cyrus did call him his son.

Still, this visit feels different. Cyno misses his father, not so much for talking to him (he enjoys it, of course), but rather for the comfort he provides.

For once, after so many years, Cyno yearns for his father's comfort, a feeling far too vulnerable for someone in his twenties.

"Cyno, my son!" Cyrus greets him at his door with enthusiasm, gray hair swirling in his hair and wrinkles appearing with age.

Cyrus doesn't hesitate to hug him, and when he does, Cyno hugs him tightly and much longer than necessary.

With that single act Cyrus will know that something is not right, but he doesn't care, because Cyno is not well, he feels bad and miserable, he is sad.

And oh, the comfort of a father.

He remembers when Cyrus held him tightly for hours in the middle of the night, after discovering the fresh burns on his arms. A moment too fragile, he only remembers the comfort it gave him, Cyno finally grew tired of struggling and stopped.

"Come in, come in." Cyrus leads him into his house.

When he took Cyno in, his house was empty and pragmatic. Cyno didn't mind, but Cyrus painted it soft yellow and decorated it as best he could. The plants weren't surviving, so he rewarded him with landscapes and rugs.

Now it looked more vibrant, happier. Cyno and Cyrus had tried countless times to preserve plants until they finally decided to try keeping a tomato plant alive. Now the tomatoes were piled up in the backyard.

He sits down on the living room couch with Cyrus at his side, grateful for the small talk he starts.

"The neighbor used to grow chili peppers, and now she's growing tomatoes. The first time her dog got into my garden, I dismissed it as an accident, but now I'm sure it was on purpose... she's trying to sabotage my tomatoes..."

Tomatoes.

"Do you think I'm good?" His voice comes out low and fragile.

Cyrus blinks in confusion, but quickly recovers. "With all my soul."

Cyno exhales shakily. "It's... it's hard to believe. After everything I've been through... everything I've done..."

"What have you done, Cyno?" Cyrus squeezes his hand. "What evil have you committed?"

He knows, he knows, he knows. But he doesn't really know.

"Being born." He spits.

"Why is your birth so evil?" Cyrus asks patiently. "When you've made me happy, when you've delivered justice, when you've helped others, and when you've made so many people happy..."

"But I wasn't! I was violent and rude, angry and ignorant!"

“You were a child,” Cyno looks at him. “A teenager angry at an unfair, corrupt world. You suffered things no one should have to, but you survived and thrived. You knew nothing because you were too young. You were frustrated with your own limitations, but  you overcame.”

"It doesn't justify what I did..." he whispers.

"And what did you do? You fought, of course. You got into fights and yelled, like any other teenager. You went through stages and learned from them."

"And all the people...? All the people who suffered for Hermanubis?"

"You didn't start those experiments, Cyno. You were just a victim, you're not to blame for anything..."

Cyno swallows, a lump in his throat. "Am I any good?"

Cyrus approaches him and hugs him, his head pressed against his, moving them back and forth, and kissing him on the head. "You are good and fair, you are kind and intelligent..."

And Cyno cries.

.
.
.

Visits to Gandharva Ville are almost always the same: walk here, don't go there, don't set foot there...

He never cheats Tighnari, so he knows he's giving him time to go to his cabin if he's ready or retreat if he's not.

He certainly hasn't thought about what he'll say, the sudden urge to set the record straight for once and accept what the Archons are offering him is so overwhelming and blinding that Cyno has decided to act without thinking for once in his life, otherwise he knows he'll end up chickening out.

He walks here, he doesn't go there, he doesn't step there...

He hears approaching footsteps, too careless and light to be Tighnari's, and immediately knows who it is, and although his first instinct is to hide, he faces them bravely.

"General!" Collei stands awkwardly in front of him, her fingers clenched and her breathing labored. It occurs to him that she should be there to keep a close eye on him, so that he doesn't surprise her and to make it clear to him that Collei hasn't let her guard down.

"Collei..." He nods in acknowledgement. It never gets easier; her obvious discomfort and tension with him continue to hurt him, further proof of how awkward he is.

He wish he were more like Cyrus, able to give Collei good memories instead of bad ones; for Collei to see him as someone she could trust, even a father figure, instead of the guy who subjected her to great pain, memories of a painful life.

"General..." Collei repeats. "I was... uh... we were a little worried because it's been a while since you've been here or written... and... well, you didn't say goodbye either..." she swallows nervously. "Well, I thought... I thought you'd stay until the next day, so... uh, yeah."

Cyno understands her, probably thinking that Cyno is involved in some suspicious activity.

"It was a bit sudden," he admits. "Don't worry, I won't bother you too much."

Collei blinks. "Bother?" she murmurs.

Has Cyno mentioned how tired he is?

"I've noticed your discomfort in my presence. I'd like to prevent you from feeling so tense in a place I promised would be your new home. The last thing I want is to invade your refuge."

And he's sure that if Collei had ears like Tighnari's, they would be droopy and listless; certainly Collei adopted many of Tighnari's expressions.

"Is... is that what it looks like?" she asks sadly.

"Am I wrong?"

Collei presses her lips together tightly, thinking and finally speaking. "Master Tighnari said that... that it was better to tell you things firmly and..." She exhales, clenches her fists, and looks at him resolutely. "I'm not afraid of you!"

Oh.

“I...!” she whispers. “You did so much for me, and I... I wanted you to... I wanted you to be proud of me…” Her voice trails off, and her lips tremble. “I wanted you... to see me as independent and mature… I didn’t think that… I felt a little awkward because I remembered what you did for me, how immature I was, and everything I wanted, and… well, you’re very important to me…”

"It's okay, Collei..." He approaches her, his voice softer than usual. "I've always been proud of you, of your strength and your dedication... I wanted to bring you here because I wanted you to learn all the love there is here, and I'm so surprised and proud of how kind you are, Collei. You're more beautiful than a padhisara, gholam."

Tears spring from Collei's purple eyes, and she clutches her skirt tightly. "Master Tighnari told me... that if I said what I wanted and thought, you wouldn't get angry or uncomfortable, and I..." She sobs, her cheeks flushed and her nose reddened, like a child crying, innocence seeping into every tear. "You're... like a father to me, just like Master Tighnari, and... your absence hurts."

A father.

Oh.

"That doesn't mean you have to feel obligated to see me the same way!" She waves her hands frantically. "I know you're still very young, and it's not like I can force you to do anything..."

"You're like a daughter to me too, Collei," Cyno interrupts, feeling a calmness settle in his chest with warmth. "Since I brought you here."

Collei looks up in a daze and her tears stop.

"—But I'm not one to impose anything on you, especially after everything you've been through."

"But you've done so much for me... and for so many people..."

"I haven't done anything..."

"You saved me and gave me a place to live!" Collei sings. "And you're such a kind person..."

"I don't know if I would describe myself as kind, many people wouldn't agree with it either."

"But I do!" She approaches him with determination. "And I know that everyone who knows you does too! How can you be so mean if you read poems to me? If every time you come over you bring fruit and candy? How can you be so mean?"

"I don't know, Collei," he sighs, exhausted. "I've had the feeling I was born evil..."

"It's not like that." Collei looks at him with renewed determination. "I've met bad people, you're not one of them..." She started fiddling with her hands while thinking about what she'll say. "I used to feel the same way... like my life couldn't get any better, and when it did, I felt like I didn't deserve it, like I was bad..."

"Collei-".

“But Master Tighnari told me it was wrong,” she interrupts unrepentantly. Her eyes shining. “And I...! I... I really love life…” Her eyes fill with tears. “I hated my life, but I loved life, and I wanted to live a good life, and I deserve to live a good life! And... and sometimes I still feel like I don’t deserve it, but... I try not to think about it too much.”

And Cyno would want Collei to live a long and happy life, he would want Collei to run non-stop every half hour, he would want Collei to be able to hold a glass for more than two minutes without the eleazar making her lose strength and breaking it into a thousand pieces.

And he knows that Collei wants that too.

You never get over something like that, you never prepare to die so soon.

The soul of a child, a life so short and full of pain, whose end was already decided.

"I want to live," Collei sobs.

And Cyno feels a sudden lump in his throat.

"And I want you to live too, not in a lonely and sad way. I want you to have a long and happy life, because you deserve it. You didn't choose to live everything you lived, and I didn't choose to live everything I lived. But we endured it, we kept going, and we didn't let it stop us."

Cyno swallows. He wants a long and happy life, he wants, he wants, and he'll continue to want.

Is it bold to want to live a long time? Is it bold to want a happy life? Or, at least, a life a little more bearable, a life without heavy burdens that weigh down to the soul.

"I want to live..." he murmurs, his voice breaking; it was the first time he'd expressed such desires out loud. He thought he wasn't allowed to wish for things like that, but honestly, does it even matter?

"I want to love and to have," he admits weakly, and like a breaking dam, Cyno can't hold back now that he's just starting. "I want you to have a long and happy life. I want Tighnari to still be by my side. I want to keep hanging out with my friends. And I want to make Cyrus proud..." he exhales. "I want to write to Lisa because she was a great friend, but I didn't dare interrupt her life. I want to keep training with Taj and playing TCG with everyone else."

He's tired of being sad, terribly exhausted by chronic depression and eternal physical fatigue.

He's dead tired, but death is also a symbol of a new beginning.

"And what they say about me really hurts me. I'm tired of not going to events so as not to scare them off, of being kept at bay just because of my skin color or my accent." He closes his eyes tightly.

He feels a hand holding his, tentative and more of a brief touch than anything else.

Collei looks at his eyes with a sad smile.

"That's okay."

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The rest of the way to Tighnari's hut is a leisurely walk, a stark contrast to the speed with which he ran from Sumeru City to Ghandarva Ville.

He won't regret, never again.

Saying that one is happy is almost a cause of sin, but Cyno no longer cares about anything, he has chosen to be happy without caring about anything else, without worrying about anything else.

He has spent his entire life mired in a bottomless pit, in an unconscious depression that functioned as a self-sabotage against any hint of happiness.

Now he chooses to be happy, despite the fatigue that eats away at his bones. And he will try.

"Good."  A voice inside him says, strangely pleased.

"You haven't spoken in a while," he murmurs.

"There are reflections best done in solitude... I decided to take a nap."  The thick voice rumbles in his chest. Tighnari once asked him how the spirit felt inside him; he feels it heavy but not bothersome, like a weight or a presence that surrounds him comfortingly, and every time it speaks, it rumbles through his body.

Anubis's voice exudes authority, even within him; it's strange trying to describe such a powerful presence within him. Untouchable, yet present, with authority.

"Did you leave me alone to think?"

"It wasn't just me who gave you space to think."

Cyno blinks.

"And what do you think?" Cyno doesn't usually ask Anubis these kinds of questions, for the simple reason that he doesn't usually ask them. But he assumes Anubis is the one who's seen the most about him.

“You are a fragile human being like all others, born from the tears of Ra,” It begins after a moment of contemplation.  “When your years were less than the petals of a rose, and your stature  smaller  than that of a twilight bird, you were so fragile that my mere presence had to be hidden so as not to cause your body to explode. And I, who  had never  been trapped in a mortal body, had no control over my spirit, just as you had no control over yours.”

Cyno remembers it, the agonizing pain with every step and every breath, his skin burning like fire and the Jackal's furious growls echoing in his head.

"I was surprised to find it was a child who was hosting me. Even now, your life is more ephemeral than the sand of the dunes. But your name will live on for eternity, and your legend will inspire justice and hope."

"May those who respect the balance of  wisdom and justice have peace for the rest of their lives."

And Cyno does not dream of eternities, nor does he care too much if his name or his existence are forgotten from existence.

But Cyno dreams of peace and life, he has dreams of fluttering birds, of empty cages and full hands.

He is not surprised when, upon opening the curtain of leaves, he finds Tighnari sitting at his desk, staring at him.

Tighnari already knew he was coming, he already knew it.

Tighnari already knew.

"You left me alone on purpose," he says because it's what comes to his mind and because he doesn't like to mince words in conversations, even when his actions are so contradictory. "You sent letters to Dehya and Candace to make sure I was okay. You briefly hinted to Kaveh that I might not be okay so he would come see me. I know you and Cyrus talk constantly, and I don't doubt you would have sent him a letter by now. You sent Collei to see me before I came... all so that... for what?"

Tighnari narrows his eyes with soft features.

"Because you are loved, Cyno. By everyone, everyone who knows you loves you."

Deep down, Cyno wishes Tighnari would yell at him, demand answers he doesn't have. But Tighnari isn't like that; he's kind and patient.

"I can't convince you how much you deserve all the love that is in you and for you; but I wanted you to see it."

Cyno approaches Tighnari's mattress and sits down slowly, removing his helmet and abandoning his spear and cloak.

"...Why?"

"Because I love you." Tighnari smiles at him warmly, so full of love that he wonders how he didn't see it before.

He is amazed and amazed by so much love, towards him, from everyone.

"Why?" he repeats.

"Because I want to love you, because loving you was the easiest decision I've ever made. Because you made loving you easy, because you made me fall in love with you."

"I'd rather not love than love someone who isn't you. Only you provoke this feeling in me, and I want only you to receive this affection."

Cyno stares at the ground, his eyes half-closed; a warmth gently runs through his body. He relaxes in Tighnari's presence, relieved by his position, feeling his bones settle.

"—I love you, Tighnari. That's why I ran away that night, because I was terrified that you might love me back."

Tigjnari sits down next to him, takes his hand gently in his and smiles at him.

And of course Tighnari already knew it.

"How could I deserve you?" His voice is slurred, and he realizes, belatedly, that he's crying.

"What are you talking about?" Tighnari strokes his cheeks with the thumb of his hand, still holding his hand with the other.

"You're too good, Tighnari."

Tighnari laughs loudly and shakes his head. "I'm a ranger, Cyno. What are you talking about?"

"You are sweeter than spring, Tighnari. My hands could never be worthy of touching even the softest of your hair."

Tighnari moves Cyno's hand to his own cheek, until he can feel Tighnari's face soft and warm under his touch.

"—But I want you to touch me. I don't want to be a flower if that makes you feel unworthy. I want to be with you, Cyno, and even if you didn't love me, I would love you forever."

How ridiculous it is to even think that Cyno might not love Tighnari?, loving him was one of the most natural things that happened to him, without realizing it.

"Valuka Shuna is a life partner, you are my life Cyno."

"How could I?"

"Why don't you accept it?" he asks sweetly. "Would you be willing to share your life?"

"—I've shared my life with you since I met you, Tighnari." Sighs.

"Share your burdens with me too."

"It's not something you deserve; it's ugly and humiliating. I'm afraid your opinion would change if you knew everything..."

"The person I know is kind and sweet, sweeter than date honey, Cyno. That won't change. My esteem for you would only grow if I knew everything you survived, everything that made you the kind and brave person you are today."

"I'm not brave," he blurts, staring at the ground. "I ran away. I ran away from you several times because I was afraid."

"You walked away because you thought being with you was bad for me and because you weren't ready." Tighnari leans closer. "That's not cowardice, it's consideration."

"But..."

"I would have waited forever for you, Cyno." He takes his hand. "And if you were never ready, I would still choose to love you again and again. There never was anyone else, and there never would be. It had to be you."

And Cyno doesn't understand, he doesn't understand how Tighnari would choose someone like him.

But damn him if he doesn't accept it, because he wants it more than anything.

"I will love you forever, Tighnari. You plant flowers in my chest with a glance, petals that the wind cannot blow away and that grow stories beneath my eyes. Your name has permeated me, your existence has taken root in my heart, and the seed of a better life is promise enough for me to cling to it."

Tighnari holds him gently by the shoulders, his lips brushing against his without going any deeper.

"The first time you said something like that to me, I couldn't sleep at all. I was just a student, tossing and turning in bed thinking about the General Mahamatra. How indecent! Such impure thoughts for someone of such high rank..."

Cyno's brain fries at the thought of a younger Tighnari writhing in bed from thinking about him, of words he had said without much thought.

What ignorance, what a waste, to think they could have been doing this for a long time.

"It wouldn't have been appropriate to think that way of a scholar..." Cyno murmurs, his voice strangely deep as Tighnari's hand gently caresses his collarbones.

"Oh, but I wanted it," he says against his lips. "I wanted the General Mahamatra to think that way of me... and even now, did you ever do it, Cyno?"

Flashes only ... Cyno thinks. Fleeting in his mind, unbidden before bed; he always erased them as quickly as they appeared, increasing his guilt as a knot formed in his stomach and saliva flooded his fangs.

"Not exactly..."

“Oh, but we should change that,” Tighnari smiles at him. “I hope you know I’ll have my revenge for all those nights your scent and your words kept me awake, and I warn you it’s been many years since I saw you at Daena’s House.”

Cyno's heart skips a beat, he feels Tighnari's hands pulling him by the back of his neck towards him, and finally, the pressure of his lips against his.

Soft, warm, and sweet. Tighnari is like tasting a piece of star. He gasps for a moment, almost panting at the sensation.

It's a relief, an immense desire that he didn't know he had but that suddenly takes hold of him with great need and force.

He clenches his fists and reminds himself that he can want and have, and that there's nothing stopping him as he kisses Tighnari harder.

He will never let him go again.

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