Chapter Text
"Motherhood" was never been a concept Mydei entirely bought into.
He took pleasure in watching the children of Kremnos play and laugh, yes. But only from afar. No matter what, he was still their crown prince. Before everything else, he has a duty to uphold, and "nurturing" is not one of them.
And yet.
Somehow, Mydei can't bring himself to say yes to Hyacine's gentle offer. He thinks, truly thinks about what the right choice would be, for a warrior.
It's cruel to raise a baby in this condition. Not only for the child, but for his people. How can he dedicate himself to his kingdom when he is with child? When he can no longer fight and die, for the sake of protecting the babe in his stomach? When the Flamechase is still ongoing?
When he hears the news, Phainon gently takes his hand in his. His eyes are so, so tired — and yet a glimmer of hope hides deep within them. "It's your choice," the alpha says quietly. "I love you, no matter what."
He wants it just as much as Mydei. But neither are willing to voice it.
Mydei swallows down his pride. He wants it. He wants it so badly, in a way he had never wanted anything else.
"Then I want to keep the baby."
Nine months later, Mydei is lying on the hospital bed, half-conscious. His body had forgotten what it felt like to be in pain after so long. His head pounds, and through his blurry vision, he can see Hyacine cleaning up the bloodied towels. Next to her is Phainon.
He's holding the baby in his arms.
Their baby.
Phainon's eyes fill with tears when he catches Mydei looking. He practically crumples into the seat by Mydei's bed.
"Mydei," he cries softly, almost as if chanting a prayer. "I love you. I love you so, so much. My beautiful omega, my mate. I love you."
"I want to hold him," Mydei rasps out. "Give him to me."
With Hyacine's help, Phainon moves Mydei upright before gently placing the baby in his arms.
He's tiny. Barely half the size of Mydei's forearm. He has the most ridiculous tuft of white hair on his head. His eyes are scrunched closed, so Mydei can't quite see his color. He sleeps so quietly, so peacefully in a way his parents could never achieve.
A tear drops from Mydei's eyes and lands on the baby's blanket.
He's so small.
"Shh…" Phainon swoops in, gently embracing his mate. "De, look. There's our son." He presses a kiss to Mydei's sunset hair. "It'll be okay."
Mydei's shoulders shake harder. "Phainon. Phainon, he's so small."
Like always, Phainon understands what he's saying. "It's okay. It'll be okay, De. We'll protect him."
"He can't—" Mydei chokes out. "He can't die before us."
"He won't." Phainon pulls back, his eyes a flaming fury of blue. "I swear to you, Mydeimos. I won't let anything happen to him. Not even the Titans themselves can take him away from me. He's ours. Even if my mind loses all sanity, I will remember this promise to you."
"You'll protect him," Mydei demands. "Even over me. Especially over me."
Instead of answering, Phainon leans down and captures Mydei's mouth in a deep, bruising kiss. His hand comes up to cup his wet cheek, fingers combing through Mydei's long, sweat drenched hair. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against Mydei's own.
"I promise." His eyes soften sweetly. "Helios will live a life filled with love. As long as my body remains standing, I will guarantee that."
The world is burning around them.
Mydei tears through cursed titankin, crushing their bodies without a second thought. He can't stop now. Not when Okhema has fallen to the black tide. Not when they're so close to finishing the Flamechase. And especially not when—
"Mydeimos!" Phainon roars from across the battlefield. Dawnmaker flashes in his hands, but no matter how many titankin he cuts down, hundreds more follow. "Go! Hyacine is with Helios—"
Mydei hesitates only briefly. A part of him aches to leave Phainon behind, but he cannot stay. Helios is barely a year old, and Hyacine still needed to complete the Sky trial. He turns on his heel and runs.
He arrives at Hyacine's infirmary just in time to see the Flame Reaver yank his sword out of her chest. Hyacine crumples to the ground, golden blood flowing from her mangled corpse. Her dull gaze is fixed towards the ceiling.
The Flame Reaver turns his body towards Mydeimos, the Sky coreflame hovering over his palm. "One… down," he rasps. "You're next, God of Strife."
Mydei lunges toward the Flame Reaver, red crystals erupting to attack him. He can't let Hyacine's death be in vain. He attacks fervently, intent on drawing the Flame Reaver out into open space.
Where is Helios?
Knowing Hyacine, she must have hidden him away in her last moments. He must still be somewhere around here. Mydei needs the Flame Reaver far away.
The Flame Reaver matches each of Mydei's blows, but it isn't long before he starts to notice something is wrong. "God of Strife," he growls out. A clone bursts out from behind Mydei before getting skewered to pieces. Mydei disperses the crystal before it can topple down the house. "Why… are you hesitating?"
"Shut up!"
It only serves to make the Flame Reaver angrier. "Where is your honor? Why do you not stand and fight me like before?"
Like before? Mydei had never fought the Flame Reaver alone before. Despite the situation, his mind starts to race.
They finally break out of the house. The Flame Reaver's attacks get increasingly more aggressive. One of his clones lunges again, aiming for the small of Mydei's back. Mydei barely twists away in time, the blade skewering his shoulder instead.
How had the Flame Reaver known where to attack?
Mydei feints to the right, ducking low to aim for the Flame Reaver's legs. The Flame Reaver easily moves out of the way, and Mydei's body acts unconsiously, catching the next blow aimed at his waist. His hand snatches the sword mid-air, holding on tightly to prevent it from moving again.
"I knew it." Mydei spits golden blood from his mouth. "You've changed quite a bit, Deliverer."
In the next moment, the Flame Reaver's cresent blade pierces straight through Mydei's chest. He shakes off Mydei's grip easily and lifts him up by the throat. "Then you know what I must do."
Phainon, Mydei thinks desperately. I'm sorry.
He thinks about the way Phainon would hold him in the mornings, cradling him in his arms like he was the only person that mattered. It was only a few days ago that they'd been laughing together at the dinner table.
Mydei holds on to those memories, and remembers Phainon's last promise to him.
"Our son—" Mydei chokes out desperately. Even if it is over for him, there's still a chance for Helios. Again, the Flame Reaver had said. He had done this before. And he would do it again.
The Flame Reaver lifts up Dawnmaker and stabs Mydei's 10th thoracic vertebrae. When it's over, he drops Mydei to the ground and turns to leave.
"Deliverer…"
The Flame Reaver stops walking.
"Protect… our son."
Silence. The Flame Reaver faces away from Mydei's body. He says coldly, "that is no son of mine."
He continues walking forward.
It is not yet time for the Era Nova, after all.
The end of the world is as gruesome as it is calming.
Khaslana stands at the edge of Aedes Elysiae, watching as the cycle resets before them.
How many times has he done this by now? The coreflames burn in his chest. He thinks of "Phainon's" last memories — of seeing Mydei's dead body, of screaming in anger and agony and swearing to put an end into the Flame Reaver.
He can't quite bring himself to care, anymore.
A flash of pink, and a small girl appears in front of him.
Cyrene.
Once again, she is waiting for him at the end of the cycle. Khaslana watches her approach, mildly wondering if this is finally when she mocks him for fighting a losing battle.
Something's different, though. She's cradling a bundle of white in her arms. As she gets closer, Khaslana realizes that it's a baby.
Cyrene smiles softly at him. "Khaslana. So another cycle has passed."
"Irontomb has not awakened."
"No," Cyrene agrees. She shifts the baby higher. "You must be tired. And so, unbearably lonely."
Perhaps a few cycles ago, Khaslana would humor the pink haired girl. "What do you want."
"You won't consider it?" Cyrene asks. "He has golden blood, you know."
"All the more reason to leave him here," Khaslana rasps out. "You of all people know that golden blood does not mean joining the Flamechase."
The baby lets out a fragile cry. He reaches out desperately for something not there. Cyrene's shifts so that she can grab his fingers. "How smart you are," she coos, completely ignoring Khaslana. "You heard your daddy's voice, didn't you?"
"It would be wiser to leave him here," Khaslana says. "The child will only live a life of misery with me."
He should leave. This is pointless. But a small part of him aches to stay and hold his son one last time.
Cyrene shoots him a glance, as if sensing his thoughts. "But at least he will have a chance to live," she says quietly.
He doesn't know why he's hesitating. Maybe Cyrene was right. Maybe he is lonely.
Or maybe because this sweet, innocent baby was proof he could once love.
He takes the baby with him. It's pointless to argue against Cyrene, anyways.
The baby is a warm weight in his arms. Khaslana closes his eyes and steps forth into the new cycle.
"Welcome home, Helios."
Helios is quiet. Khaslana faintly remembers Phainon's many long and sleepless nights with the child. But in the new world, he rarely cries. He's still needy, of course he is. Despite Khaslana's burning body and rotting scent, the baby cries when separated from the warmth of the Flame Reaver's body. He clings miserably to Khaslana's cloak, pouting up at the swordsman.
"Enough of that," Khaslana says. "No son of mine shall cry as easily as you do."
Cyrene would laugh if she heard him. Phainon had been notorious for being a crybaby when he was Helios's age.
Helios scowls at him, looking alarmingly similar to Mydei. Khaslana swallows, hard. "Okay, fine. I'll hold you for a bit longer."
The child's face lights up, and he coos into Khaslana's shoulder.
It isn't good for Helios to grow up with only Khaslana around. Khaslana thinks back to all of the parenting books Mydei had made him read. He needs social interaction — preferably with other children his age. But first, he needs to learn how to walk and communicate.
Khaslana sets Helios down on his feet. He wobbles over, but stays planted. He spreads his arms. "Good. Now walk to me."
Helios stares up at him with wide golden eyes, then promptly falls flat on his butt. He bursts into tears. Khaslana sighs.
Somehow, raising a child is harder than preventing the rise of Irontomb.
Months pass, and now Helios cannot stop walking. If Khaslana couldn't teleport, he would have gone crazy with the amount of times he lost his own son in the forest.
"There you are!" Khaslana snaps, swooping in to catch the child. "Just where do you think you're going?"
Helios shrieks with laughter. "Bunny!" he says, pointing. "Bunny!"
What an absurd human being. Despite that, Khaslana cannot stop his smile from spreading. The Flamechase has not yet started, and normally Khaslana would be deep in meditation by now. He presses his nose into Helios's soft white hair, inhaling deeply. The child still carries a sweet, milky scent. It won't be for a few more years that it will start to change and mature. And after that, his presentation.
Khaslana's smile falls. He's not oblivious. The many time coreflames in his chest resonate with the child. He cannot have that. Helios is to remain away from the Flamechase.
But it hurts more, to raise Helios in ignorance. One day, Khaslana will have to leave to end the cycles. And in order to do that, he needs to kill Mydei and Phainon.
Would Helios hate him, if he found out about the truth? Could Khaslana continue lying to him while coddling him in his arms?
Helios tugs at his mask. "Dada?" he warbles.
"Khaslana," he corrects.
Helios blows a spit bubble at him. "Khas!"
"You silly child," Khaslana says fondly. "Come on. It's time to eat."
Helios is still young. When he's older, Khaslana decides. He will make up his mind about whether or not to tell him the truth.
When Helios is tall enough to reach Khaslana's hip and wise enough to speak in proper sentences, Khaslana decides that now is the time to integrate his son into society. Only in small amounts, of course. But enough to function on his own. Khaslana studies the area before him carefully. Finally, he nods, satisfied.
"Do you see the market over there?" he asks, looking down at his side. "Remember what I told you?"
Helios nods solemnly. His face is set with a determined gaze, similar to the one his father would get before heading out to battle. "You want me to buy supplies," he says, then repeats the list Khaslana gave him.
"Good." Khaslana says. "I've taught you how to count coins. Do not get swindled. There's some left over, if there's anything you want."
"Okay." Helios starts to head to the market. Khaslana stays behind, watching from a safe distance away. If anything threatens his son, he would burn the area to the ground in seconds.
As it turns out, he didn't need to worry. Helios had inherited his father's natural charm. The storekeepers are instantly charmed with his round, innocent face and cute little accent. They crowd over the boy, pinching at his skin and cooing. Helios smiles sweetly, cheeks dimpling at the corners. In just a few sentences, the entire market falls in love with him. Piles and piles of gifts are dropped into his basket.
Despite his charm, Helios is more conservative in his thanks. He carefully inspects all the goods the same way Khaslana had taught him too — and the same way his mother used to, in Marmoreal Market. His face scrunches in concentration. Luckily, he is still young enough that the civilians don't mind.
The sun had already set by the time Helios makes his way back to Khaslana. He smiles proudly, holding up his spoils of victory. "Look!" The coin bag is brandished as well. No adult had wanted to take his money. "Khaslana, I did it!"
"Good job," Khaslana says. "You did well." He pats at the boy's head.
"It was fun!"
"Was it? That's good. You'll be spending more time with them from now on."
Helios's expression falls. "But I want to be with you!"
Khaslana looks up from where he was inspecting the meats. "It isn't good for you to spend time with only me."
"I don't care," Helios scowls. "You can't make me go."
"Don't you want to spend more time with kids your own age?"
"No! The other kids are yucky and gross!"
Oh, titans. Khaslana thinks. Where did I go wrong?
Not for the first time, he wishes Mydei was here with him. Finally, he says, "We'll talk about this later."
They settle in to eat dinner. Once they finish eating, Helios goes off to play while Khaslana sits and starts to plan. Cerydra has already been born, and in a few years, the Flamechase Journey will start. What happens next will be determined by her own actions. In some cycles, the heirs were born earlier and killed just as fast. In some others, it took over a thousand years for the last demigod to be born.
Helios has golden blood — he will live until the end of the cycles unless killed. Khaslana's priority remains the same: preventing the rise of Irontomb and the completion of the Flamechase Journey. But now, he has Helios to think about. No matter what, Helios can not take the Time Coreflame.
A small hand tugs at his cape. Helios looks up with him and wordlessly crawls into Khaslana's lap. In his hand is a pomegranate.
"A nice lady gave me this," he mumbles. "It smells good."
"It's a pomegranate," Khaslana tells him. He starts to peel the fruit. "Try some."
Helios pops it into his mouth and hums. "Yummy." He pauses. "Khaslana, do I have a mama?"
"Wh— what?"
Helios continues chewing at the fruit. He swallows. "The lady asked me where my mama and dada are. I didn't tell her about you, like you said, but I don't know my mama."
Khaslana runs a hand through Helios's hair. "Of course you have a mom," he says quietly.
"Then where are they?"
"He…" Khaslana chokes up. "He loves you. He wishes he could be here with you."
Helios curls up tighter in his lap. He lets out a yawn. "Can you tell me about him?"
Khaslana thinks about Mydei — his strong and brilliant mate. He would have loved Helios. "Do you know how people smell like different things?" he asks. "Well, your mother was an omega, so he had a sweeter scent than normal. He smelled like pomegranates, actually."
Helios's eyes widen. "Really?" He turns the peel over in his hands. "Mama smelled like this?"
"Yes," Khaslana says. His chest feels lighter in a way it hadn't before. "Would you like to know how your parents met?"
Helios frowns. "I thought you were my dada."
"No," Khaslana says softly. "Your father was the most gentle man I knew. I'm simply carrying out his promise to keep you safe. You see, on the day you were born…"
He continues with the story until Helios's eyes flutter shut and he goes lax in Khaslana's arms. The alpha stares down at the sleeping child. He hadn't planned to tell Helios about Mydei and Phainon this early.
When he is older, Khaslana decides. I'll tell him the truth.
The years pass just as quickly. Helios matures just as fast, no longer the innocent, bumbling child he once was. He rapidly grows taller and becomes more knowledgeable about the war-torn world. By now, he is wise enough to understand that Khaslana is not who he says he is.
When the time comes, Khaslana takes him to watch Cerydra's coronation.
"So, this is the Flamechase," Helios says, watching as Cerydra declares herself monarch of Okhema. The young man turns to him. "She's looking for people with golden blood."
"Yes."
Helios studies him. "But you don't want me to go."
"No. You are to remain away from the Flamechase."
He frowns. "Will you tell me why?"
Khaslana says nothing.
Months later, Helios watches in horror as Hysilens murders her only love and kills herself in her sorrow. He watches as the Tribios are killed off one by one until only a handful remain. He witnesses Cifera's greatest lie, and Aglaea's solemn resolve to lock away her humanity. When it's finally all over, he crumples to his knees.
"Why…" he gasps out. "How did it all go wrong?"
He is too soft hearted like his father. Khaslana places his hand on his shoulder. His skin is burning to the touch.
"I don't understand," Helios whispers. "Why didn't you let me go? I could have helped them!"
"Nothing would have changed."
"You don't know that!" Helios growls out. His scent whips through the air angrily. "How could you let them die like that?!"
Khaslana takes a step back. So it's finally time, then. Helios's first rut. He leaves.
Over the course of a week, Helios levels an entire forest. He rages on, burning off the anger intensified by his rut. When he finally returns, his eyes are hardened. He looks older. He has not called Khaslana "dada" in a long time. He looks at Khaslana and says, "Will you tell me the truth now? About the Flamechase Journey?"
Khaslana has spent years preparing for this moment, but it hurts no less. He can lie to himself and Mydei, but not to his child. Never to his child.
So, Khaslana tells him everything. About the cycles, the coreflames, Irontomb. About how he murdered Mydeimos in cold blood. When he finishes, Helios leaves. He destroys another forest in his anger. Khaslana half expects him to never come back and join the Flamechase out of spite. But he does came back eventually. "I want to see it," he says. "Everything."
He is so much like his mother it hurts.
Hundreds of years pass, and they watch as Aglaea rallies the Flamechase, gathering forces to fight off against the Black Tide. Helios disappears and leaves for weeks, sometimes months. He comes back reeking of the Black Tide, and glares at Khaslana, daring him to say anything. Khaslana says nothing.
And then finally, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae is born.
Helios joins Khaslana at the borders of the small, idyllic country. He watches his father grow up. It's unmistakable who Phainon is to Helios — they share the same hair and facial structure. The only thing Helios inherited from his mother were his eyes.
"Leave," Khaslana says one day.
Helios lifts up his chin. "No."
He stays and witnesses the fall of Aedes Elysiae, and the dying wish of Cyrene. He watches as Phainon rages against the world, crying tears of grief for his family. The Black Tide comes and devours the slumbering lands until only Khaslana and Helios remain untouched by the corruption.
Helios stares down at the ground. Cyrene's mangled corpse stares up at him. Finally, he says the damning words: "I would like to go to Okhema, now."
"Do not interfere in the Flamechase," Khaslana warns. His words fall on deaf ears. Helios leans down and gently shuts Cyrene's eyes.
In this cycle, Phainon was forced to leave before the Black Tide overcame him. He didn't have a chance to bury his friends and family. Helios wipes away a blood stain from Cyrene's cheeks. Khaslana wonders if a part of him remembers the way she held him, a long time ago.
Finally, Helios opens his mouth. "Do you think my parents will fall in love again?"
There has not been a single cycle where Phainon has not loved Mydeimos. There has only been one cycle where Helios was conceived. Helios looks at him and smiles sadly. “Thank you for raising me, father. But I must go now.”
Khaslana has never prayed in his life. The titans are a fraud and the Aeons have long since abandoned them. He watches Helios go, the proof that Khaslana could once love. And he prays desperately.
Please let him be happy. Please let me keep him.
Please, don't make me kill him.