A collection of small moments shared between a princess and her guardian Cyno.
Chapter 1 : A New Duty
✧ 642 words ✧
The Mahamatra stood silently before the towering palace doors, their surface covered in intricate golden engravings that shimmered beneath the desert sun. Warm wind carried grains of sand through the vast courtyard while guards remained motionless along the sandstone walls. Layers of light ivory fabrics draped over his frame, protecting him from the sun without restricting his movements. A scarf adorned with subtle golden patterns was wrapped loosely around his shoulders, it could easily be pulled over his mouth and nose when desert storms struck. As he approached, one of the royal guards stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "Come in, the King awaits you."
He straightened his posture, adjusting the grip on his polearm as the guard stepped aside. He walked silently, boots clicking against marble. When he reached the grand throne room, a faint scent of incense filled the air. The Sultan stood beside an arched window overlooking Sumeru’s dunes.
“General Cyno." he said without turning around. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"
Of course, King Al-Aziz knew the dunes were unforgiving. However, he also knew that Cyno was used to raiding Eremite camps and walking through violent sandstorms.
Cyno inclined his head slightly in respect. "The desert has its challenges, but I am no stranger to them." he answered flatly.
The Sultan turned his gaze to him. "That is precisely why I summoned you. No matter how impressive the task, you remain humble once it is done. Most guards would be far too proud of themselves."
"I am only doing my duty." Cyno remained still, waiting for the king to continue.
"You already know why you're here. Lately, my daughter has grown increasingly defiant of my orders. She follows her own whims without a second thought and constantly seeks trouble. I need someone capable of keeping her under control." he sighed.
"Then I will do my best to earn her cooperation, Your Majesty." Cyno bowed once: sharp, precise and respectful...
"Perhaps it would be easier if I introduced her to you myself." The king gestured to one of the guards, silently ordering him to fetch the princess. The guard bowed deeply and left without another word.
Truth be told, Cyno had not been particularly pleased when he received the letter from King Al-Aziz. Guarding a princess was hardly the sort of assignment he was accustomed to. His days were usually spent hunting down lawbreakers across Sumeru, tracking rogue Eremites through the desert, or investigating scholars who believed themselves clever enough to bend the Akademiya's rules without consequence.
Compared to that, guarding a member of royalty felt almost… uneventful.
Under normal circumstances, he might have declined the request altogether. Yet there was one reason he had accepted without much resistance.
Tighnari. The forest watcher had been the first to encourage him to take a break from his endless workload. According to him, Cyno spent far too much time chasing criminals and not nearly enough time interacting with ordinary people.
"It could be good for you," Tighnari had said. At the time, Cyno had doubted it.
Silence settled over the radiant room until the doors slid open with a soft, echoing click, sunlight spilling through the gold-laced curtains, catching on dust motes that danced like tiny fireflies.
There she was.
Princess of Tulaytullah, dressed in flowing azure silks, her hair crowned with delicate golden chains and emeralds.
She moved gracefully across marble floors, not rushing… not hesitating either.
Cyno didn't shift. Posture straight, expression unreadable beneath calm focus, he finally decided to bow formally when she approached.
"It is an honor, Your Highness."
She took a small step closer, her voice lowering into a soft murmur. "My father tends to be overly cautious. Anyway, I hope you will find your stay here comfortable." A brief silence followed her words, broken only when Cyno lowered his gaze in acknowledgment.
Alhaitham has failed to consider the possibility of monsters being introduced to the hive mind and his oversight is costing them now. The Terrorshroom shrieks at them and Alhaitham tightens the grip on his sword.
He is a good swordsman–made even better with the application of his dendro vision–but in face of this foe even he will struggle.
His dendro vision is rendered near useless with the Terrorshroom’s resistance to the element and with a sinking feeling in his stomach Alhaitham remembers the green glow from Lumine’s strange stones in her dress.
He briefly looks over at her and when their eyes meet he knows that she has come to the same realisation as he has.
“Can you change your element?” he asks, remembering how she had glowed purple after a hasty trip to Inazuma.
It had piqued his curiosity then but he had refrained from asking. Lumine was fond of secrets and even fonder of using few words and she was puzzling enough that this one piece of information didn’t cost Alhaitham his sleep.
He has guessed that there was probably something to changing one's element like Lumine does and he is proven right when she regretfully shakes her head.
“I need–something,” she briefly says and several pieces slot into place in Alhaitham’s head, even though none of them help.
She needs to interact with the Statues of the Seven, scattered across the nation, and he would gamble his remaining days off on the fact that the statue of Kusanali doesn’t help in this moment.
So they are well and truly fucked.
“Not so confident now, are we?” Siraj calls down to them and Alhaitham feels annoyance curl under his skin but it is quickly replaced with adrenaline when the Terrorshroom turns its head to look at them.
It almost seems curious for a moment before it shrieks again and Alhaitham is thankful for his headphones.
The sound is near head-splitting even with them and the thought has just enough time to pass through his head before the Terrorshroom moves.
And it moves towards Lumine, who is still clutching her head, rendered immobile by the pain.
Alhaitham flickers towards her and pushes her out of the way a second before the Terrorshroom lands where they had just been standing.
The earth trembles a bit with the impact and Alhaitham blames that for the slight tremble in his hand.
This will be hard and being afraid won’t help.
Cyno will help–and actually can, with his electro vision–and Alhaitham briefly wonders how far out he is. Alhaitham is certain that he left enough signs for him to find them and he is completely convinced in Cyno’s ability to follow them, but if they can’t hold out long enough for Cyno to reach them, none of that will matter.
“Together,” Alhaitham says when Lumine is back on her feet and a brief nod is all he needs; they charge at the Terrorshroom from both sides, brandishing their swords at it but without a proper reaction to weaken the Terrorshroom it will be a long and arduous battle.
Alhaitham doesn’t know how long they have been fighting yet, but his arms started to shake not long ago and yet the Terrorshroom still shows no sign of being exhausted at all.
This will not end well for them.
“We need a plan,” Lumine pants when she comes to a stop next to him and Alhaitham can see the exhaustion in her.
“We need to hold out for a while longer. Help is on the way,” he gives back without taking his eyes off the Terrorshroom and yet he can still feel Lumine’s searching gaze on him.
She’s distracted enough that she doesn’t notice it when the Terrorshroom charges at them again and Alhaitham has just enough time to push her out of the way before it reaches them. It doesn’t hesitate even for a second and brings its beak down, right into Alhaitham’s shoulder.
The pain is blinding and Alhaitham immediately knows that his arm is useless now.
“Alhaitham!” Lumine calls out and he grits his teeth together.
“Focus,” he spits out, because she needs to be on top of her game now that he isn’t anymore.
He’s not completely useless; refuses to be so even as blood drips down his fingertips, but fighting now will be hard. Alhaitham made sure to incorporate both hands into his fighting routine; mostly to stay unpredictable but also to challenge himself. The Terrorshroom hit his left shoulder, so his dominant hand is still functional but old habits are hard to beat.
And Alhaitham has to learn that the hard way when he charges at the Terrorshroom and instinctively calls for his mirror sword with his left hand.
He almost black out from the pain that shoots through him.
Alhaitham manages to bite back a scream, but it’s enough of a distraction that he doesn’t see the Terrorshroom aiming for him. The kick hits him square in the chest, sending him flying a few feet back. And as his luck would have it, he lands on his left side.
It’s unlikely that he’ll get back up; the pain is paralyzing in its intensity, not just from his shoulder but now also his chest, and Alhaitham can only hope that Lumine will manage to keep the beast occupied until Cyno arrives.
Alhaitham’s vision is still blurred, but he does notice Lumine coming to a stand beside him, her sword brandished at the Terrorshroom.
“Can you stand?” she asks, not once taking her eyes off her enemy.
“No,” Alhaitham manages to wheeze out and he thinks he sees Lumine’s hands shaking.
“Okay,” she whispers to herself and then dodges to the side when the Terrorshroom leaps at her.
The impact is so close to Alhaitham that it makes the ground shake and it jostles his injuries again. He’s unable to stop the pained groan that makes it past his lips and he knows he’s just seconds away from losing consciousness.
Not even the Terrorshroom’s fixed gaze on him can change that and Alhaitham has a split second to feel afraid as the Terrorshroom shrieks almost right into his face.
The adrenaline that’s rushing through him is not enough to keep him conscious but the last thing he hears before everything goes dark is the comforting crackle of electro.
~*~*~
Alhaitham comes to to something other than the comfort of his own home and the thought that he’s in the infirmary is distasteful enough that he immediately frowns even as he still struggles to open his eyes.
“I see you’re well enough to already judge your surroundings again,” a voice to his left says and even though Alhaitham is loathe to admit it, the sound of it makes him relax. “Sorry my home is not up to your standards.”
“Your home?” he croaks out, finally managing to open his eyes.
Cyno is sitting next to the bed, his head bare of his usual headgear, with his hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. He seems exhausted.
“You were very adamant on not staying with the healers, though you conveniently passed out again before you could tell me where your home is. So I brought you to mine.” Cyno seems completely unamused by that fact, but then again, he usually seems unamused by a lot of things. “How are you feeling?”
“You don’t know where my home is?” Alhaitham asks, taken off guard by that information.
He thought Cyno would have thoroughly investigated him by now, and it’s not actually that much of a secret where he lives.
“I had no reason to investigate you prior to my defection and afterwards, it seemed pointless. You had proven yourself by then.”
“High praise from the General Mahamatra,” Alhaitham mumbles, relaxing back into the bed and taking stock of his body so he could finally answer Cyno’s question.
His chest is aching, which probably means bad bruising at best and a few broken ribs at worst but Alhaitham’s focus soon ventures to his left shoulder. It feels completely numb and it is enough to make him worry.
“My shoulder?” he asks, opening his eyes again to meet Cyno’s gaze.
“Completely shattered,” Cyno honestly gives back and even though it’s unpleasant to hear Alhaitham appreciates the fact that he doesn’t beat around the bush. “The healers managed to piece most of it back together but it will still take some time. The two broken ribs were hardly of any concern in comparison to that, even though you will be sore for a while.”
“Wonderful,” Alhaitham mutters and carefully moves the fingers of his left hand. They move, even if it’s harder than it should be. At least Alhaitham will be able to do his job.
“You’re on sick leave,” Cyno says in that moment and Alhaitham’s gaze snaps to him. “Lord Kusanali gave you some time off. She said she doesn’t want to see you for the next two weeks and then she will welcome you back to your old position.”
Alhaitham can hear the question in Cyno’s voice and he sighs.
“I resigned,” he explains. “It was an interim position and I felt the longer I stayed in it, the more Lord Kusanali—and the rest of the Akademiya—would get used to it.”
Cyno only hums in response to that and Alhaitham sighs again.
“Do you maybe want to talk about what makes you glare at me like that or do you have any other inane questions for me?” he asks and is not disappointed when Cyno’s glare flares up again.
“Do not take that high and mighty tone with me, Alhaitham,” he snaps out and Alhaitham blinks at him in surprise. Cyno is not usually one to have outbursts like that. “You were incredibly stupid.”
Alhaitham has been accused of many things by many people in his life, but the only one who ever accuses him of being stupid is Kaveh so it’s quite surprising to hear this from Cyno now, of all people.
“Do enlighten me to my stupidity then,” he gives back, even as he bites back a sound of pain as he tries to sit up.
He’s tired of laying down flat, even if it somehow doesn’t make him feel quite as vulnerable with Cyno there.
Cyno watches him struggle for a moment before he moves to help him sit up against the headboard and even though Alhaitham can tell that he’s still furious his hands are gentle.
His chest aches even more at that realisation.
“If you had the time to send me some inane scribbles you could have informed me personally of the danger you were going to put yourself in,” Cyno bites out and even though Alhaitham knows that Cyno prides himself on his exceptional control over both the spirit inside of him and his vision there’s the faint crackle of electro in the air.
He truly must be angry then.
“They were not inane scribbles,” Alhaitham refutes. “I left you a trail of symbols to follow.”
“You doodled a jackal head on the letter and then left a resembling scribble on my office floor. You’re lucky I know you well enough to know that doodles are usually beneath you and got suspicious almost instantly.”
Okay, Alhaitham has to admit that maybe his plan hadn’t been quite as thought through as they usually are, but he had been pressed for time at the moment since he hadn’t wanted Ilyas to grow suspicious of him.
“Regardless of that, it all worked out in the end, right?” Alhaitham asks because that’s the only thing that truly matters here.
Cyno had understood and had come for him. What more was there to talk about?
“You were unresponsive on the floor in a puddle of your own blood,” Cyno bites out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Clearly you failed to consider how that would make me feel.”
“I—see,” Alhaitham slowly says, because he had failed to consider how that must have impacted Cyno. It’s not something he could have planned for but—
“Do you, truly?” Cyno asks him, lowering his hand and this time his eyes were burning with something else.
They are imploring enough that Alhaitham doesn’t immediately respond, but instead tries to understand what Cyno is trying to convey to him.
He fails to immediately understand what Cyno is hinting at, because in Alhaitham’s eyes everything worked out fine in the end—his injury none withstanding—but it’s clear that Cyno doesn’t think the same.
So Alhaitham tries to see it from his perspective. Tries to imagine how he would have felt if he came in, after following some scribbled doodles of a feather Cyno would no doubt leave him, only to find him critically injured and non-responsive on the ground, red seeping out beneath him.
He’s almost certain his heart misses a beat at just the hypothetical image.
“Oh,” he breathes out and Cyno’s posture finally relaxes at that.
“Yeah, oh,” he wryly gives back, even as his gaze softens.
“I’m fine though,” Alhaitham tries, despite knowing that it’s a cold comfort. “You came in time.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“But you did,” Alhaitham says again, and reaches for Cyno’s hand, even as it sends bolts of pain through his shoulder. “And we all made it out fine.”
Cyno pointedly doesn’t mention the cold sweat on Alhaitham’s forehead from just this short movement even as he meets Alhaitham’s hand in the middle.
“Fine, right,” Cyno snorts out. “You certainly were toeing a fine line there,” he then says, with his deadpan joke face and Alhaitham doesn’t quite manage to keep in a groan at his less than stellar word-play.
“Get it? Because you were saying you were fine, and I—”
“Yes, I get it,” Alhaitham interrupts him and doesn’t mention the way Cyno’s grip is just a little bit too tight on his hand. Instead he returns the pressure and doesn’t dwell on the way it makes his heart beat a little bit faster.
There is much to talk about with this new development, but Alhaitham has just been seriously injured and it’s taking its toll on him.
Cyno must notice that he’s struggling to keep his eyes open because he untangles their hands—much to Alhaitham’s dismay—and helps him slide down in the bed again.
“Rest some more,” Cyno mumbles as he pulls the blanket up around him.
“Stay,” Alhaitham whispers, his eyes already closed.
“This is my home, I’m curious to know where else I would be,” Cyno shoots back but Alhaitham smiles slightly when he feels gentle hands moving his hair out of his face.
This is a much better thing to fall unconscious to, Alhaitham thinks, before he falls asleep, certain that Cyno will be by his side again when he wakes up.
