contains: 1.2k wc, waiter!mydei, reader is first year college and just finished midterms, reader is also a big massive loser who embarrasses themselves every 5 seconds, modern au
notes from zoey ୭˚. ᵎᵎ — i literally wrote all of this in the span of an hour after waking up at . 3:30 am 😅 pls waiter!mydei has been stuck in my head since my friend started spamming abt a cute waiter in our gc . mydei brainworms took over and now here we are
-> ⋆˚꩜｡ submission for @stellarchives 's sweet taste of reverie event — a cone of strawberry and salted caramel ice cream with mini m&ms <3
every year, since kindergarten, your parents have always treated you to this high-end, family-owned restaurant after every major exam. the owners seem nice, based on how your mom always seems to strike up a conversation with her before you leave, and their food? absolutely divine.
and you're ready for the same exact routine when you pick up the menu, skimming through to check any new additions or deals.
"are you ready to order?" an unfamiliar voice asks, catching you off-guard. generally speaking, the servers have remained relatively the same over the years, with only a few changes here and there.
you flick your eyes up from the menu and onto the waiter, only to be met by the most handsome man you've seen in your life, standing in front of your family while holding a small notepad and a pen.
while your mother dictates her usual order to him, you, completely unintentionally, start… admiring his physique, specifically his arms.
though, those thoughts quickly get interrupted by the man himself, "and for you, miss?"
beef wellington, you tell yourself. it's not something you always order, but you decided to get it this time around. you clear your throat before speaking, not wanting to sound weird or raspy in front of this guy.
until you messed it up yourself.
"i'll have, uh… biceps wellington."
you want to dig a hole into the earth and hide there for the rest of your life. you feel your parents' gaze burn into your soul, heavy with unspoken judgment. it's not like you to mess up your order that badly.
clearly, the guy is just as stunned as well, but decides to spare you the embarrassment, "beef wellington, miss?"
"y—yes," you bring the menu up to your face, as if that'll help make the waiter forget about your identity, "beef wellington."
"and how would you like it done?"
"…medium-rare?" you answer, almost hesitating, in a way. if you're being honest, you kind of want him to leave already. you're silently praying that your parents have already placed their order.
speaking of which, you're honestly grateful that it's just the three of you. if your extended family had heard that 'biceps wellington' part, you wouldn't hear the end of it. ever.
the rest of the interaction is a bit of a blur — something about how the appetizers should be ready in 10-20 minutes, your mom asking him how he got this job since it's typically hard to please the owners if you're applying, only to find out that he's their son, and he's only working here part-time for college.
great. you embarrassed yourself in front of the son of the owners of the restaurant you've been eating at for almost all your life. if he tells miss gorgo or mr. eurypon, they'll think the child of their regular customers turned into a total weirdo.
all that information, and also his name — mydeimos. but you, as guests, can just call him 'mydei.'
the waiters and waitresses, who you've grown to know and love over the past, dash around the restaurant, serving dishes left and right, moving so fluidly that, if you blink, you'd miss them.
you've pretty much been hiding behind the menu for the next few minutes, only lowering it when you figured that a good amount of time has past, and mydei won't be returning to your table for a while.
so, you grab your phone from your bag, planning on updating your friends about how you looked like a total weirdo in front of the 'cute waiter with really nice arms.'
you: oh my kephale
you: guys the waiter is so cute
you: and kinda hot HAHAHA
you: ERM MAYBE I SHOULDNT SAY THAT WHEN MOTHER DEAREST IS SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME
you: i wanna ask for his number but i think he caught me staring at his biceps
you: UGHDJFDFDFKJSFSKFDFSF
"i think you two would be a cute couple."
your mother says out of the blue, causing you to nearly drop your phone. both you and your dad have a feeling that was intentional.
"but make sure to prioritize your studies," your dad adds in, betraying you in the process by joining forces with your mother.
though, before you can answer, mydei comes back, holding the tray of appetizers. you watched him place the dishes down for each of you, not even realizing that your phone is still on, easy enough for him to see the text messages.
oh, and he does see them. but it's too late for you to hide them now.
"ah, i'm sorry," you apologize, grabbing your phone and pretending that you're apologizing for keeping your phone there and accidentally blocking his way — though, that's certainly also part of it.
"it's alright," he responds, not even sparing you a glance as he places your order in front of you.
you really want to crawl into a hole and stay there for eternity.
your mood was soured for the rest of lunch. you don't blame him — of course not — but you're more so annoyed with yourself for acting like that in front of a guy you just met. you're usually so much more composed than this.
but the final nail to the coffin? spilling water all over yourself while watching him serve another table. fortunately, it wasn't a lot of water, but it wasn't exactly a tiny spill, either. moderate, perhaps?
though, in the end, none of it really matters as mydei, ever so attentive to the customers and guests — which, admittedly, actually makes him even more attractive in your eyes — comes over with some cloth, handing it to you silently as he swiftly cleans up the water you spilled onto the table, "be careful next time."
and, despite the gruff appearance and tone, you can also tell that there's no bite behind his words. scolding, yes, for sure, but you can tell there's no malicious intent behind his words.
"s—sorry."
still, that only adds more to your embarrassment. you're completely quiet for the rest of lunch, gaze focused on the view outside from the window. though, even that gets boring, especially since you've seen this very view hundreds of times before.
"bill, please," your mother calls out, and you let out a sigh of relief. finally.
you're hoping this part-time job of his ends soon. or, at the very least, isn't always on saturdays.
the conversation your mother and mydei share pretty much go in one ear and out the other, with her asking about his personal life — if he's in college already (he is, a first-year like you), what his major is, how classes are going… relatively basic things you ask the son of one of your acquaintances.
your gaze shifts to his hand on the table, a small piece of paper popping out. initially, you thought it was a crumpled order from another table until you noticed him… sliding it towards you?
he leaves it behind to get change for your mom, and you use this opportunity to open it and take a peek.
it's a number.
his number, with a small 'text me' written down beside it, clearly scribbled quickly, which you can only assume is because of his tight schedule as a waiter.
you open your phone again, taking note of the messages your friends sent while you were eating
Summary: Flins has never had an ice cream before, so you take it upon yourself to introduce him to the delicacy.
A/n: Omg guys user kinbedo writing an actual, proper, no hidden meanings or intentions, no warnings, not a single trace of even mildly disturbing / dark content, romantic fluff fic??? Not even yearning?? Straight up fluff??? With a heavily implied relationship instead of leaving it with a platonic interpretation???
(this is over-exaggeration btw, I do write fluff, just not very often 😭 wrote a Hokusai fluff fic a while back but the fandom is so niche it’s not even worth mentioning help)
wc: 801
Tw: none!
pure fluff <3
Spoilers for Flins’ anecdotes and voice-lines.
— ♡
“Ice cream?”
“Yes, surely you’ve heard of them at least?”
Flins hums, thinking and then nods. “Yes, I have seen a few children around Nasha Town indulge in them as well. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”
You are sitting atop a parapet near the lighthouse, dangling your legs with the wind. “Then shall we head to Nasha Town and get some?”
‘Right now?”
“Right now.”
Flins smiles at the thought of this being a date, immediately nodding to show his approval. “Then let’s head out.” He offers you his hand, which you happily take, pushing off the parapet like a giddy child being promised their favourite treat.
Nasha Town bustles with activity, per usual. But you don’t linger too long, opting to buy a few different flavours of ice cream and heading out to eat them. You place them in a box of dry ice — something you prepared before setting off. If Flins was to get a taste of the sweet delicacy, you might as well expose him to various different flavours to help him pick a favourite.
(But will he even be able to taste all of them properly? Or will the coldness numb his tongue before he even gets to try the second flavour? Oh well, that might as well be a good reason to come back for more.)
If you walked all the way back to the Cemetery, the ice cream would melt. So you decide to find a comfortable hill overlooking both Nasha Town and Hiisi Island. Somewhere midway through the path, the giant crane at Clink-Clank Krumkake workshop clatters while lifting scraps. Despite being so far away, you feel like you can still hear the loud clattering of the machine from the last time you visited Aino.
Flins sighs at the sight, scrunching his eyebrows. “I nearly forgot that Miss Ineffa was planning on hosting another session. I need to find a good distraction beforehand to ensure that Miss Aino's attention gets diverted long enough for me to get off the hook.”
“Why not pay attention in class instead?”
“That would be a vexing ordeal.” Flins pouts like a little child and it makes you laugh.
“Well, how about you try these first and then think about everything else later?” You push the box to sit between you both, the cold permeating off its surface.
Flins hesitantly pulls his lantern out, ready to absorb the ice cream the way he does with his emergency rations. You tut in response, frowning.
“What if they’re too cold?” He tries justifying.
“It’s icy cold, but still tastes good. At least try them before deciding they aren’t edible enough.”
“...Fine. Which one shall I have?”
“Hmm how about starting with some classics? Either vanilla or chocolate.”
“Vanilla or chocolate?” Flins asks, surprised. “Those sound surprisingly normal.”
“Even if you find the taste a little dull, you won’t be able to deny that they are rather refreshing.”
Flins carefully picks up a cone and peels apart the wrapper. The pale texture tells that he has picked up a vanilla. Hesitantly, he licks at the cream, eyes widening a little at the sweet taste. “Oh.”
“What do you think?”
“Hmm it’s alright.”
“Would you ever like to try more?”
“If it’s with you? Absolutely.” The corners of his lips twitch upward, eyes directed at the cone in his hand, unfocused. Truth be told, Flins didn’t quite fancy the dessert. But he loved peaceful moments like these — sitting on the grass with beautiful scenery, you beside him, doing whatever you preferred.
You pick up a cone from the box, thanking the dry ice for keeping it cold and in-tact for you to savour.
Hiisi Island is truly a sight to behold. It already looks stunning during the day, you wonder how much prettier it could get under the soft, moonlit sky. Perhaps you and Flins can have a late night expedition to Frostmoon Enclave sometime. Lady Lauma shouldn’t mind too much (hopefully).
The last time you visited the Lady Moonchanter, she offered you some freshly picked fruit. You still remember the feeling of biting into the plump skin, the juice trickling down your chin, delight filling your senses. The people there really seemed to like their fruits, and you couldn’t even blame them — they were delicious.
It gets you thinking, “Sweet fruits can make for a refreshing treat. Besides, walking to Nasha Town each time might be a hassle…” You prod your chin, gears moving in your brain as you try coming up with a feasible idea.
“Alright, it’s decided.” You stand up, stretching your arms and dusting the stray grass and dirt from your clothes. Flins follows your movements with a curious eye. You smile at him, soft and mischievous.
'chocolate hot fudge with cherries for customer anaxa'
a/n : I think and then I don't. wait nvm idk.
synopsis : yearning w unrequited feeling
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
Anaxa would never admit that you were important to him. yet, contrary to his words, he often found himself looking for you whenever he went somewhere you often visited.
whenever he saw you, his lips would curve into a faint smile, just at the sight of you. maybe you could say that he smiled at you the same way he would at a dromas – or maybe a little more fondness. but who knows.
his eyes would linger on you when you weren't looking, but he was quick to look away so you wouldn't notice. if you do catch him staring, Anaxa would casually shifts his gaze to something near you, so it seems like he's glancing elsewhere.
then one day, he saw you with someone – someone who completely captured your gaze, someone you looked at with affection, someone he wished he could be. Seeing that fondness in your eyes directed at them made him delirious.
how he wished you'd look at him with the same fondness and affection in your eyes. he'd trade the world for your love, or maybe even his remaining eye, just for you.
envious as he may be, your happiness always means more to him. even at the cost of his own dreams and joy. just watching you from the sidelines is enough for him.
in which our beloved train passengers get j*bs as... ice cream shop workers? (well, we have to get money to spend somehow... right?)
welcome to SWEET TASTE OF REVERIE! not only @stellarchives' first event, but one that is exclusive for writers, artists, and editors alike! here, both mods (or in this case, "managers") will act as your guide, and show you how to properly ask your customers what they'd like to order~
first off, ask if they want a cone (writing), a cup (art), or a bowl (edits)!
here is our selection of flavors and toppings! ☆
now let's assemble the final order with manager stelle! for manager stelle, the order she came up with was a cone of strawberry ice cream with brownie bites and cherries for customer mydeimos!
EVENT PARTICIPATION . . . ☆
01. only members are able to participate in the event! future applicants whom also wish to join, you are given a head start even before our applications open. have fun ^^
02. for written works, the minimum word count is 200. for video edits, the minimum time limit is 10 seconds. (none for art and picture edits, of course). there's no maximum for either of them, go wild!!!
03. again, all works must align to the network's rules and guidelines.
and lastly . . . remember to put a small note along with the ice cream, saying #storeverie! (within the first three tags of the work is preferable.)
☆ OUR EVENT MASTERLIST ! ☆
this "temporary j*b" is rather short, only lasting for a month. from SEPTEMBER 15TH TO OCTOBER 15TH! so yayy, our participants won't be empl*yed for too long 😛🍨
we encourage participants to use this opportunity not only to support the network, but also to connect with other creators in the same space! as it's our first month with all these talented people as "og members", we hope this bond between us is constantly cared for 🌷 of course, you're not obliged to join if you wish not to <3
have a great time in empl*yment and getting paid! you'll have fun, promise ^^
A cone of strawberry ice cream with cherries and mini m&ms for Kinich!
Stellarchives event
Part 1 Featured song: Elan by Secret Garden
Part 2 Featured song: Solas x Interstellar by Gabriel Albuquerque
Summary: Amidst the lively atmosphere of the festival, you and your companions have an important mission to carry out. The same evening, you meet two different people who felt eerily similar to each other, and you aren’t sure what to believe anymore.
A/n: This is basically my version of the scenes involving Nina, Chris and Charioce from “Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul”, but with Kinich. The anime’s dance scenes were too good to be captured well in words unfortunately, so apologies if the wording feels awkward <//3
Proofreading this at 1am because yes.
wc: 2.8k words
Warnings: none!
Royal au, mild angst (??)
— ♡
‘Kinich’
Featured song: Elan by Secret Garden
The sun dips low over the horizon, orange hues fading into the early traces of twilight. The streets bustle with activity. The smell of freshly baked buns and fruity candies waft through the air.
You walk slowly, savouring each moment, eyes glittering with fascination. In the back of your mind, your companions’ words echo, trying to disrupt your peace.
“Be back on time. We have an important mission to carry out.”
Why would they even want to conduct their missions on a festival? Shouldn’t this one day be free of troubles and full of fun?
…Never mind, you do understand why the infiltration mission has to be carried out tonight. After all, it’s only when people are crowded and distracted that such risky endeavors carry a higher chance of success.
You resolve to enjoy the limited time you have. When the horn sounds, indicating the start of the Ball, you’ll have to head back and change into formal wear. At least, till that happens, you could indulge yourself in the fleeting pleasures of the festivities.
“A sweet bun, please! Without the extra cream.” You say politely, preparing to hand over the change to the old lady in exchange for her baked goodies. Your eyes scan the items on display. Perhaps you should buy something for your companions too?
“You seem very familiar with this. Any recommendations?” A soft, masculine voice sounds beside you. You don’t even know if he was talking to you, but you instinctively tilt your face to meet him only to find his eyes already on your form.
“Oh, me? I do come from around these parts so yeah, I guess. As for recommendations… it depends on whether you prefer sweet or salty. Oh there’s these with spicy fillings as well.” You point out, but you feel his gaze linger on you instead of following your finger.
This is… odd. His long, loose clothing completely hides him. The black hood almost makes him seem like a thief, with only a few green strands falling through it. But just one look at the material, coupled with his funny, slightly tinted glasses, is enough to say that the fabric must cost more than the daily wages of some of the workers around these parts and the thicker, more expensive lenses are far beyond the reach of any ordinary person.
“I’ll take whatever they took, and the one they recommended, thank you.”
“Without the extra cream?” The stall lady confirms, to which he nods politely, giving her extra change and walking on before she could retort. The woman turns to you with the extra change, and you awkwardly slip backward, not wanting to take responsibility for that man’s actions.
You rush to catch up to him, comfortably sliding in beside him and matching his pace. “You’re awfully generous. People like you could easily be taken advantage of.” You try sounding casual, but the scrutiny in your tone slips past anyway.
“Is that so? Well, why don’t you accompany me and ensure that I stay safe then, hm?”
“Maybe if I get treated.”
“In exchange for being my guide this evening, all your costs will be on me.”
“You have a deal! Err…”
“Kinich. And your good name is?”
You state your name, not letting your guard down just yet. His name did sound like a commoner’s but the fabric of his clothing was still something to bear in mind. After all, if he didn’t afford it himself, he could be a thief. And being affiliated with a thief was the last thing you wanted added to your plate right now.
You walk past multiple stalls with Kinich, relishing his companionship. This was a welcome change compared to the constant nagging of your companions and their awfully risky pursuits. He seemed willing to keep up with his end of the bargain, willingly buying for you the trinkets you picked out. When he thought you weren't paying attention, he picked out oddities for himself, none of which seemed to match his personality. (Were they gifts for his own companions perhaps?)
The sound of the folk music and tapping feet attract your attention as you make your way over to the centre. Multiple people surround the flames, swaying in circles. Some have formed small groups on the side, tapping their feet to the beat of the music, while couples twirled around, the smock-frocks of young women puffing outwards.
You watch in awe, itching to join in.
“Are you familiar with the local dance?”
“No, I’ve only watched it a few times but I’ve never tried it myself.”
“Do you want to?”
“Huh?”
Kinich smiles gently, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dancing crowd. You try resisting, dragging your feet to slow him down but he’s far stronger, seamlessly holding your hands above you as he starts mimicking some of the common moves.
You let him take the lead, awkwardly trying to stay a few feet away to avoid tangling your legs in his. But he grabs your wrist and tries getting you into rhythm too, letting his enthusiasm influence you.
He’s a good dancer — fluid movements, energetic steps and an expression that tells that he’s genuinely having fun. It doesn’t take too long for you to open up, freely swaying alongside him.
The musicians seem to get more eager, the tunes feeling a little louder and a lot more energetic. The world around fades, the lamppost lights blurring with the stars overhead. The feeling of his hands guiding your movements, his laughter, the cheers of the crowd drive you until you’re out of breath and laughing along with him.
You’re only pulled out of your trance when a distant horn sounds, followed by the heavy canter of horses. Everyone turns around, gathering on each side of the road to admire the heavily decorated chariots heading towards the castle.
It’s time for you to leave.
You turn around to make an excuse to leave but Kinich has already disappeared, the lingering warmth on your skin being the only evidence that he wasn’t a hallucination.
‘Malipo’
Featured song: Solas x Interstellar by Gabriel Albuquerque
The outfit feels stiff and stuffy. The buttons reach so high up they feel like they’re going to strangle your throat. The cuffs of your sleeves feel tight and heavy, like it's made of metal instead of fabric.
You open your mouth to complain about it, but refrain from it when you feel even the horse of the carriage stare daggers into the back of your head. You’ve already made multiple adjustments to your clothes and delaying any longer could bar you from entry to the Ball.
Gosh, is this what aristocrats have to wear on a regular basis?
You take in a long, deep breath and suck it up, replaying the plan in your mind to distract yourself from the uncomfortable outfit.
Thanks to one of your acquaintances being a royal guard, you’ll be able to slip onto the castle grounds through the front door. Act all ‘high and mighty’ (but don’t overdo it) to avoid suspicion. Then, if possible, ask his Highness, Malipo, for a dance to distract him, while the others sneak deeper in to retrieve the holy relic. Hidden among the fireworks show will be your signal to leave unnoticed, before the castle assistants greet, or rather, verify each guest personally.
You seem to have been one of the last to arrive, as the gates close shortly after you enter. You expected the place to be buzzing with activity due to the festive atmosphere, but scrutiny clouds the air.
“Have you heard? The new ‘prince’ was apparently a poor civilian before the guards noticed his similarities to the late prince.”
“Does that mean the rumours of a new prince are true? That the original one fell to his illness?”
“Is this Ball meant to celebrate the prince’s recovery over his illness, or is it a facade to introduce the new royal?”
All of this is new to you. There was no news of this whatsoever among the common folk. Were the ordinary people considered so insignificant that they weren’t even told about the prince’s illness? Or were these aristocrats just throwing baseless rumours into the air to throw shade at the next heir?
You need to keep your ear to the ground and formulate an opinion based on what everyone else is saying to not stick out.
The atmosphere is stifling. Criticism and scrutiny float around in every corner of the huge hall. The aristocrats are far more divided than you expected them to be. You feel the pressure, the responsibility, resting on your shoulders.
Carefully, you move across the hall, greeting a few people when you make eye-contact, a demure facade.
The sound of clinking glass pulls everyone’s attention towards the stairs. A butler stands at the end, a wineglass and a small spoon raised in his hand. Soon after, a figure in a white suit emerges from the upper corridor. His long, red cape flows behind him.
Some women quickly gather near the throne, bowing down on either side of it, as Prince Malipo takes his place on the seat. He doesn’t even grace the noble girls with a second glance. Bored, he opts to look straight out through the castle’s large windows, eyes set skyward.
“What are they…” You mumble.
A young lady beside you seems to catch your words and she clicks her tongue. “Right? What are they doing? I would never prostrate myself for a man with a questionable background. Even my mother is taller than him, tch.”
Oh, you realise, they are waiting for him to pick one of them as a dance partner.
You suck in a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you have decided to do next.
It’s too bold.
You know it, your logical side keeps screaming it too. But, at the same time, you can’t see yourself bowing and waiting like the others either.
You move forward in a few, long strides, standing right in the middle of the bowing ladies, and right in front of the throne. A confident smile graces your lips, as you extend your right hand, waiting for Malipo to take it.
A few audible gasps sound behind you. People shuffle, murmuring, whispering. Bewildered and disgusted. Some of the women tilt their head upward to look at you, shocked and raged. Malipo turns his head, eyes wide in shock.
The audacity.
He thinks. You are thinking the same thing. Everyone in the room is.
And yet, he pushes himself up and takes your hand, guiding you to the centre. His hands easily find your hips, guiding your own over his shoulder. His gaze is intense, like he’s planning on ripping your soul apart if you try anything else that brazen. And yet, it’s like he’s daring you to show him what else you can do so fearlessly.
The music starts suddenly, a little delayed than it should be. A few members of the band mess up the beginning notes, the sounds clashing uglily before coming together.
Malipo effortlessly guides you through the dance, like he has done this a million times before. You feel like you have stepped on his foot at least a few times now, but he doesn’t even wince to show it, maintaining his blank expression. He is more in control of your body than you are.
His hands feel too familiar when he holds yours, intertwining with your fingers as he sways, not paying attention to the tunes in the background. The familiarity catches you off-guard, electricity shooting up your veins, threatening to make you move more energetically.
Threatening to make you dance like you did with Kinich.
You follow his movements in a trance, letting him guide you, trying to maintain your ‘dignified’ expression.
The shattering of glass brings you back to reality, and you quickly turn your head in the direction of the sound.
It came from the direction of the chamber where the holy relic is stored.
Oh no… the mission!...
Your legs move on their own, trying to run straight to the source, but Malipo drags you back and you clash against his chest, the impact knocking the breath out of your lungs. A few steps in front of you, the chandelier comes crashing down. The exquisite glass breaks into a million pieces, a few flying shards pricking your skin.
You start panicking, breathing heavy and eyes blown wide. This isn’t part of the plan…
“An infiltration!” A guard runs into the hall, panting, their armour already in tatters. “It’s the abyss.”
Screams erupt in the hall, echoing off the walls. Some people try running up the stairs, as far away from any entrances as possible. From the corner of your eye, you notice smoke rising outside the castle walls. A distant wail sounds and you turn your head to see the town blazing in orange flames.
This is not a drill. The abyss has attacked.
You free your wrist from the prince’s grasp, rushing to the chamber where the holy relic is stored. You need to retrieve it before it falls into the wrong hands. Neither the abyss nor someone trying to gain from the chaos can be allowed to even glance upon the relic.
You push through the panicked crowd, rushing out the giant doors of the hall and into the veranda. The agitated, cold breeze of the night sends shivers down your spine. You feel the prince follow closely behind you and don't know how to shake him off. The royal guards will come looking for him soon, and that could hinder your work here, or worse, you could end up on death row.
“Why are you following me? Shouldn’t you get somewhere safe?”
Malipo raises an eyebrow. “I need to make sure you don’t do something reckless.” It’s the first time you are hearing his voice and yet… it seems so… familiar.
You huff and turn around. There’s no time to lose. You can’t dwell on it. You need to ensure the relic is safe. You scan the area carefully, ensuring there aren’t any abyss mages or lectors lingering around, before moving swiftly and quietly. Malipo follows you closely, walking as casually as though he were out on a leisurely stroll in the garden.
The closer you get to the holy relic, the more uneasy you feel. There are signs of a battle around the area — a crossbow and leftovers of smoke bombs left amidst the rubble and scratched pillars. The familiarity of the weapon and the markings on the wall make you wince.
Your companions have already been here. And from the sight, you can’t determine if they made it out safely.
The holy relic sits on a silk cushion, emitting a soft glow under the moonlight. It’s even more magnificent from up close. Thank god it’s still safe.
“So, you were after the relic.”
You stiffen up, nearly forgetting that you were with the prince.
He only hums in amusement, waiting for you to take your next move. You can’t even tell what he’s thinking.
An explosion sounds somewhere above you and the ceiling starts collapsing. You feel yourself be pushed into the chamber, and take your chance to snag the relic off its cushioned vessel. You pick up a piece of the now-broken pillar and aim for the glass window, preparing to make your exit.
From the direction of the collapsed ceiling, you hear Kinich call your name, followed by pained coughs. “Run.”
What’s he doing here?!
Just as you’re about to rush in the direction of his voice, a hand grabs your forearm, pulling you back. You turn your head to come face-to-face with one of your companions. Blood runs down the side of their head and fresh scars bloom all over their bare arms.
“What are you doing? We need to get out now.”
“But — Kinich —”
“The guy from earlier this evening? There’s no way he would be here. Use your brain and get moving.” They growl, tugging at your arm and pulling you out.
You glance at the rubble one last time.
They’re right. There’s no way Kinich would be here. But you heard his voice — you’re sure it was his voice.
There’s also the rumours about the prince’s true origins to keep in mind. That familiar feeling from when you danced with the prince was unmistakable.
Are they the same person? But there is no way… not when Kinich looked like a thriving young boy with a gentle heart and energetic spirit while Prince Malipo seemed cold and indifferent.
YEAY surprise2 there's also a phainon one xoxo (and it's in the form of a letter)
tw : might contain spoilers from 3.5/3.6 version.
A verse lost to time, whispered again for @stellarchives 's sweet taste of reverie event — a cone of chocolate with biscoff.
Always missing you
To my dear Phainon,
how are you? I hope this letter finds you, wherever you are.
It's been a long time since you disappeared. I remember when I first found out you were gone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find you.
Until I realised there were no traces of you, as if you had never existed in the first place. I refused to accept it. I searched for you far and wide, asking the other heirs if they remembered you—remembered the deliverer, remembered... Phainon. But your name appears to be unfamiliar to them. The only deliverer they remember is the trailblazer.
I never want to accept this change. But what can I do? You're gone now, and I can't even find you. So, once again I repeat this cycle—but this time, without you.
I've learned to come to term with the fact that you're gone. But here I am, writing this letter for you. Maybe a part of me still believes that you exist somewhere.
And if you're wondering, the other heirs are doing fine.
In fact, They seem happier now. The black tides are becoming less frequent. The lives lost to them are fewer than any previous cycle.
Though, I do have one regret. A wish I desperately hoped would come true. My wish is that...
you're still here with me. please, I'm not asking for much. Please be safe and please... come back.
