Missing for two weeks and wanted by Bastion. Andromede was a looming threat. On a habitual fly by the newly appointed Paragon of Devotion, Adrestes finds her. Albeit she'd seen better days.
Thank you to @toastvogel for suggesting Chyrus. He is the best paragon <3
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The Archon sits on no throne, but even without one, many kyrian often see her as a more distant figure. It is understandable. Even if she wasn’t a god, she is the leader of the realm. By her will is Bastion maintained, and by her hand are the ascended directed. There is more work that goes into doing even those two dealings than most will ever know, and she does so much more than that. It is a wonder she ever has time to address any of her subjects.
In that way, Chyrus can’t help but wonder—hope, really—whether she is at least somewhat protected from some of what is happening right now. She is not at the temples, watching their brethren fall before each other’s blades. She can feel the realm wither around her, in spite of her will, but she cannot see how that crushes the spirits of those relying on her unwavering resolve. She is spared their doubts.
Until those doubts become too powerful.
And then she is blindsided with the betrayal.
Because most anyone else could have seen something like this coming. Perhaps not on such a grand scale, but there were signs, clear as the skies over Bastion.
Chyrus frowns as the sound of a broken chime reaches his ears. With a quick inspection, he finds the culprit underfoot, half crushed under his large toes. Kneeling, he picks them up gingerly, the lute-like chimes tiny in his palm, and the ring they used to hang on broken.
It’s hard to imagine what could have damaged it so. Someone getting thrown into it and their weapon catching it just right? Or had one of their many attackers been so overcome with rage that the sound of the gentle instrument filled them with such animosity that they wanted to make sure they would never play again?
There has been so much heartache in Bastion throughout the eons.
Bastion’s pride is its noble cause, but perhaps it is because he does not cling to such emotion that Chyrus has always been able to see the melancholic undercurrent. The broken hearts sent back to Oribos to be judged anew because they could not relinquish the memories of their mortal lives has always been there. Friends and students alike have ‘fallen short’ over the years. He wonders where they’ve gone, sometimes—those he remembers.
And there are those who have done as was required of them, who sometimes quietly peruse their old memories, watching the foreign stories play out with a quiet resignation that their sacrifice was for the greater good. Still, sacrifices are nothing if they are not mourned from time to time.
As Chyrus peers around to see if there are any other pieces of the little chimes to be gathered—to be given to someone with smaller hands who needs so desperately something to focus on other than the present—the sound of large wings grow closer.
He catches the last bit of pipe beneath his foot as Thenios lands, unintentionally scattering the debris left in the forsworn’s latest attack with his great wings.
Chyrus offers him a word of greeting before picking up the chime. It wouldn’t do to forget it, and even though there was no proof of it, Chyrus has often felt like little objects could have a feel to them. They could know when they are broken and appreciate when they are repaired.
It’s a notion Visephone smiles to think of, and one that Xandria will mull over before irritably asking questions that have no answers. Simple things that cannot be done in front of their charges, but are held precious in those fleeting moments when the paragons are alone together.
This is not going to be such a moment, Chyrus can tell, if only by the thin line of Thenios’ lips.
That doesn’t stop Chyrus from giving him a simple smile himself. “What brings you all the way out here?”
Thenios stands tall and firm, armor shining in Bastion’s radiance.
That in itself makes Chyrus’ heart hurt. Thenios does not don his armor for any occasion.
Or he didn’t. Not before the forsworn, before Devos’ betrayal. Though he would never voice it, Chyrus often suspects that Devos fall from grace affected Thenios the most severely of them all, hitting him harder than even the Archon.
How often had the two visited each other’s temples in casual attire to sprawl out together and read. Thenios usually brought the scrolls and books, and Devos was always pleased to see whatever it was that he had for her. She’d once told him he could make even the driest, most technical of reports sound fascinating.
Chyrus can still remember finding them curled up together, feathers fluffed up as they read through something that wasn’t work related, and how Xandria had hounded them about how adorable they were for weeks after, insisting to Visephone that she had missed something absolutely precious.
When it was just them, of course. When they have those fleeting moments where they can simply be people instead of unyielding leaders.
Thenios hasn’t taken his armor off since Devos’ death.
The paragon motions for Chyrus to follow him, and they both take flight, soaring out into the fields where they will not be overheard.
Their feet have barely touched into the soft grasses when Thenios begins to speak, unable to contain himself any longer. His voice is a mix of its usual matter-of-fact tone used to inspire confidence among his aspirants and something else, something almost accusatory. “The Maw Walker has recovered some records for me. Salvaging what the forsworn are so hasty to destroy in their hunt for whatever they think matters more.”
“We are fortunate to have such help—”
“They brought me this.”
There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the record in Thenios’ palm, but Chyrus knows what it will be before it plays. Funny that he was just remembering this aspirant as he surveyed the damage to his temple. She had been close to ascension when she fell. She came to him, telling him that the path had taken everything from her, made her into someone she didn’t recognize.
She had been the latest in a long line of those who were not meant for the path after all.
Chyrus listens to his own disembodied voice recount the incident and remembers musing about whether there was another way for those within Bastion, a way that didn’t require a complete abandonment of the past.
The reasons for the path’s current route were valid, of course. No good came from ferrymen who judged the souls they collected.
It was a hard path, but it was one that had served them well for almost all of eternity. And if it weren’t for the lack of judgment in Oribos…
Chyrus makes no offer to take the record from Thenios, more than a little sure that if he did try, it would be denied him. Instead, he waits for Thenios to make whatever point he is there for. A chiding perhaps that such a thing was left where aspirants could find it?
“Did she ever talk to you?”
The question is a surprise, a reminder that Chyrus cannot predict everything his fellow paragon will think or do, and it hangs between them.
“No,” Chyrus finally replies. The word feels cruel somehow in its succinctness. “The first—and only—time I heard of Devos’ dissatisfaction with the path was when she told us of Uther’s injury.”
Thenios flinches at her name. No armor can protect him from his memories, and Chyrus has been worried about what will happen to him. Forgetting their fallen brethren will be nigh impossible. Their paths were far too entwined and to take her away would leave him with so much emptiness…
Chyrus has already lost so many, his heart breaks at the mere of thought of who else may fall, of who might be left a shell of their former selves because of hearbreak they can’t overcome.
“She told me.” Thenios voice cracks at the last word. He is quiet a moment before clearing his throat, his composure regained. “I told her to be careful the sort of thing she said.” His chin inclines, gaze skyward. “I did not think…I did not know that you had wondered about this very thing.”
“Haven’t we all?” Chyrus offers gently. None of them are above doubts, after all. He reaches out and lightly places a hand on Thenios’ arm, a connection his friend so clearly needs. The action startles Thenios out of his thoughts.
“If I’d listened…if I had let her talk…hadn’t let her feel so—” Thenios curls his fingers around the record, practically crushing it in his hand as he lowers it to his side, fist shaking. “How could she have… the Jailer.”
His voice cracks again, and this time he stops talking, a tremor in his jaw as he clenches it.
With a quick step, Chyrus reaches out and wraps Thenios in a hug, ignoring the way the bits of armor poke into his bare arms. There is hesitation, and then Thenios grips Chyrus back, clinging to him like a drowning man in a stormy sea.
There is not enough time. There may never be, but here, now, Chyrus is acutely aware of how damaged his friend is and how there are people who need both of them to be unbreakable pillars.
It is cruel that he can offer Thenios so little of his time. Chyrus makes himself a silent vow that he will be there for his friend, to properly mourn what they have lost when things are finally set right.
When Thenios pulls away, a shiver runs through his feathers and for a moment, Chyrus thinks he may take his helm off.
Instead, he takes Chyrus’ hand, surprised to find the tiny bits of broken chimes already there as he places the record among them. “I would hate the forsworn to get this and think you would be a good target to convert.”
Chyrus chooses not to point out that they have already tried. “Thank you, my friend.”
Thenios turns away and then pauses, looking back at him. “If you need someone to listen to your doubts…”
Chyrus wants to tell him that Devos’ fall is not his fault, but there is no way for words to reach, much less ease, the guilt there. Instead, he gives Thenios a nod and a gentle smile. “Of course.”
Thenios attempts something like a goodbye, but when he can’t trust his voice to hold steady, he instead dismisses himself without ceremony. Chyrus does not insult him by watching his retreat, instead turning his attention back to his temple.
I think it's understandable that Thenios is a little upset after Devos did everything she did. Then as well having to grapple with the fact that while he tried to support her, she was plotting to murder him and the other paragons people who had been her friends for aeons.
Then he watched and felt her die, then come back due to the Archon's will. His emotions are extremely conflicted, he's mad at her, he's hurt by her and what she did. But loosing her even for a moment made him feel that spear too.
So when Devos begged the Archon to let her try to talk Lysonia out of this war, the Archon refused. She didn't want Devos loose. Thenios however, knew it was wise to listen to Devos on this. They didn't listen once and bad things happened. He also knew if the Forsworn would listen to anyone, it would be Devos, so she was their best chance of ending this with less bloodshed.
I don't often talk about ship Headcannons but rereading my stuff has them thinking about them.
They are both autistic. Thenios tries to pretend that he doesn't have struggles with it but he's overtly blunt. Devos is often pissed off by sounds. She has to leave the room whenever someone's making coffee, even if it's her coffee. The machine sound really gets her.
They do have pet names for each other, however this is just 'Devos. ' 'Thenios. ' With a slight nod.
Devos never really questions anything Thenios does outside of 'are you sure that is safe' and he's like 'of course.' later: 'Devos I am in the hospital. ' Devos is his emergency contact.
They have been soulbound since Aspirants. Their relationship is similar to being married.
Thenios ascended before Devos. He was frustrated he couldn't help her because he didn't really know what he did. Which helped Devos in explaining the issues to the Archon.
As the Collectors did not exist in pre-Temple Bastion. Both Devos and Thenios trained to be bearers.
Devos likes Arios. And is regularly friendly to him. Lysonia hates Thenios and they'd never find his body.
They often share the same bed, alternating between their two temples. Devos is Thenios' moral support alarm to get his ass out of bed when he's got morning lectures.
Devos has a good memory and memorizes Thenios' schedule. Which helps because he never remembers and she has to be like 'you've got an opticians appointment tomorrow at 11.' She has to give him a day reminder or he stresses out.
They have to be careful with anything sexual just because Mikanikos does not respect the door curtain is closed please knock. He has caught them in the act. And the worst part is his brain can't register sex. So he just starts talking to Thenios about work and is like 'Oh Hello Devos didn't see you there. Please tell me what do you think of these plans since Thenios is being so huffy. '
When the infamous 'Seven Day Work Experiment' happened. On day five Vesiphone said Devos should check on Thenios' and Devos agreed. When she got to his shared office with his hands the room was completely dark from the window. Then Mikanikos flung his body at the glass, yelled at her in a dead language then went back into the darkness. She walked away and decided she was not getting involved.
Thenios really hates being mad at Devos even though he's right to be. After Spires he threw himself into his work to not be bothered. But it didn't help. He very much went into a depressive state and wouldn't even go outside.
They knew each other in life and where both Quel'dorei. They had a child together in life. Thenios died first killed by the legion. Devos died by drowning in the great sundering.
Thenios is scared of the dentist and Devos usually has to come with him to be moral support in the waiting room. They try to book appointments on the same day for this reason.
Thenios thinks Devos being a whole head shorter than him is adorable. She pointed out she can fly.
Thenios always worries about Devos more than he means to. Did she eat today, did she put on sun cream, I better check my phone mid lecture 'oh good she sent me a photo of Ruffle.'
Because of his work Thenios has insanely good motor control with his hands. This makes him very good at giving massages and he often enjoys preening Devos' wings. She also looks at him handling a book or glass pane and is like 'by the Archon I wish that was me. '
The Archon has an interest in Thenios over the other Paragons, just because she's like hello little paragon why does Devos like you so much (: ?