Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Glass splattered throughout the room. Caenis jumped up, a cigar falling to the scarlet floor. Smoke hangs heavily, clinging to every corner of the room.

Her ‘customers’ flee the scene, as she scrambles for a safe in the corner of the room. “Guards!” Ten armored soldiers flood the room.

They charge at him, with no sense of teamwork. Pathetic, the lot that Phainon encountered were much more uniform and coordinated.

He kicked the poker table at two, slashed three at the legs. Using the hilt of his sword slammed it into the neck of another. Cards fluttered throughout the room. The chips clatter to the floor.

He was sweating, the quick movements made the once soft fabric cling unnecessary to his skin. Ducking under a soldier who had wriggled free from the table. Chess pieces clattering to the ground.

He jumped on a couch before kneeing them straight in the skull. A loud crack echoes throughout the room. He swings his sword at a coat hanger before kicking the sharp end at his opponent.

It misses a guard by an ear. As they recover, they continue to press. He drives his blade into the wall, it sinks in deep, missing the guard.

“Hah hah..” Phainon rasped under the mask. As a blade cuts his wrist. He yanks the guard closer to chop his neck with his other hand.

He turned over ready to swarm Caenis, however, one guard snuck behind him, driving a blade into his side.

Pain pulsed through his side, blood soaking in the charcoal cloth. Dripping down his leg.

“It's over for you Flame Reaver!” She snickered, before Phainon kicked her off of him. “Ack!”

He groaned under the mask as three overpowered him. As he dives for his sword, wrenching it out like king aruther.

As their blades clashed in sparks of fury, from the corner of his eye, Cainis was retreating. Shallow slashes nicked the fabric and painted his skin in red.

He slid down, sweeping a leg from under two of them, before kneeing one in the stomach. He lunges for the monster. Dropping his sword before pulling out the knife out his side and slicing straight for her throat.

Phainon brandished the knife as a pool of blood bloomed from Caenis’ corpse. “Ugh..” He groaned, as he held his side to keep it from bleeding. “One..monster down, one to go..” He hisses.

Adrenaline wearing down, as he went to the guards before tying them to a very broken table. He bent down, swiping the documents that fell to the ground.

“Gambling for children…” Disgusting. He plops the files down on a clear table, right where anyone can see when they walk in.

He hobbed out of the lavish and gaudy room, with far too much excess wealth pouring out of the walls. If only Caenis used that for good, it seemed enough to feed an entire orphanage for a year at the very least.

He leans on the walls, heading down to the cold dungeon stairs he winces in pain for every couple of steps he takes. Two guards notice his approach as they charge. Under his shallow breath he mutters, “Just great.”

A spear strikes for his head, “Flame Reaver… You shall not pass!” Phainon used his blade to parry.

Twang! Shhing! Crack!

The spear head chipped his mask, grazing Phainon’s skin from underneath. The other then circled in ready to swipe him, Phainon ducked down, away from the slash, he pushed off of the ground to slam the hilt into that guard.

His movements are now sloppy, and weak. After dealing with the ten with Caenis, and the journey here. Sweat slid down his face as he regained his stance.

“You!” The first stared at his unconscious colleague. He made his advance headbutting Phainon, as he stepped back, Phainon grabbed the body and rotated his body to use the momentum to hit the first. “Ack!”

They were slammed to the wall, Phainon then leaped over, and kneed the recovering man straight in the stomach. He keels over flopping over the other.

The wound in Phainon’s side twitched as the adrenaline finally wore off.

Kicking them over, Phainon harvested the keys off the bodies. He continued down, yanking a torch off the wall. A small cage awaited. Like something you would put an animal in.

He peered in, 3 children shivering and huddled up.

Large waxy eyes tearing up at the sight of him. Phainon would have scoffed if he weren’t in pain. Two guards for three kids who look barely over 5. “W-Who are you?” A kid demanded.

At least she had the energy to defend her and her siblings. He stabbed a key inside of the lock, before swinging open the cage. “What- what do you want with us?” The fiery kid yelped.

“Are you letting us go?” A hopeful voice peeped up. She blinked at him with her matching blue eyes, just like the fiery kid.

“Trib- sister, he wants a prophecy.” A voice sighs from deeper into the cage. Her faded red hair brushed over her face, yet cleaner than her sisters’.

He slid them a paper as he stood up. The markings of a map, and safer spaces for them all written on there, along with pictures, in case they didn’t know how to read.

They all curiously stare up at him, warily, they stare at him as they climb out of the cage.

All three of them scramble to the light. Never looking back. When they leave his sight, immediately he crumbles to the ground. Hoisting himself to lean on a wall.

He wouldn’t want to scare them anymore.

He takes out a scuffed notebook, and with a trail of his blood, crosses out Caenis’ name. Surely, that's it, right? His hands trail to his blade, before kissing it to his neck.

Even under layers of cloth, he’s done this so many times he can still feel that cold aching metal. He takes a deep breath as he holds it close. One swift fluid motion.

Just as practiced, it won’t hurt if he does it this way.

His hand trembles, and his mind swirls. His breathing becomes more ragged as he pants. Tears blot at his eyes, as his vision turns fuzzy.

At least the pain seemed duller. Right?

The blade clatters to the ground as footsteps echo across the room.

“So, you’re the Flamereaver.” A deep voice comments. The sound of paper shuffles, another note of sound.

Proof he wasn’t gone yet.

Phainon’s eyes flick up toward the man. The light reflected into his teary eyes made it hard to see. Large blocky shapes of red and gold only covered his vision.

He coughs up blood, for a short response. “So it seems.” The blood felt sticky and warm as it caught under his mask.

The red and gold man knelt down closer to him. But Phainon only caught the silhouette.

“Never thought I’d meet this empire’s most wanted criminal.” The man talks regally, like someone important. Also somewhat brash. But, not that important if Phainon can't tell whose voice it belongs to.

“A gloryless corpse, but what a coward deserves.”

“Villain.” Phainon rasps.

The man pauses as if he was contemplating, or even calculating. “Pardon?”

“I prefer to be called villain.” Phainon can hear the man hum his agreement. “Could I ask for a favor?”

“Bold request, villain.”

“Thanatos already has laid their eyes on me. Won’t you put me out of my misery and speed up my visit?" Phainon conjures up the last bit of his strength to reach for his knife. Surprising even him.

Icy fingers lightly touch the blade as it digs into his skin. Bits of blood beads on the cuts. He holds the blade to the stranger. “Won’t you take the honor?"

The man takes the handle. “You're a strange villain.” Phainon can hear the man stand up, metal armor, and cloth clinking together.

“Farewell." But Phainon only caught flickers, as his hearing was drowning out in the silence.

“See… ya.”

Then, it all goes dark.

The same repetitive drip echoes in the musky damp room. The same smell of mold, and the dim lighting creeping in though pale marky windows.

Phainon awoke in a room he had become so accustomed to. Sore limbs, bruises under his rag of a shirt. A sharp pang of hunger.

All back again. He eased off of the bed, a faint phantom pain cursing in his side where metal pierced through.

He went to a loose floor board. Where his notebook lies.

“Back here once again…” He mutters darkly. He drags a hand down as he wrenches the floor board free

His one and only companion, where ink and blood still stains the paper even though all of his resets.

The same notebook with all of his collected lives in the margins. Same smear of blood on the pages, torn seam, and cheap covering.

“Back again, huh partner?” He lightly pets the book.

A loud knocking pounds against the door, and Phainon quickly hides the book under the floor. “Brat! You’re late for training!” He creaks open the door.

A woman in a maid uniform stomps her foot like a rabbit. The “acting” headmaid. “Hurry it up mutt.”

“Yes ma'am." He keeps his head down.

He speed walks through the door past her, never looking up until he is to be at the training grounds. The journey there was blurry. Faded until he reached his destination.

The instructor shoved a splintered sword into his arms.

“You won’t leave until noon. I want you to cut every blade of grass with this sword.” He clicked his tongue as he stormed off.

Phainon waits until the instructor shuts the door. When the wind bristles the tall grass, he starts to sweep his flimsy twig of a weapon against the overgrown lawn.

The weeds taller than his knees, he sawed at one thick thorn vine before throwing it to the pavement.

He didn’t fight it. The world wouldn’t even care anyway. And it would have resulted in another reset.

Each death had felt like he was dunked in cold water, taking away all sensation over time. But if he were to remember one thing.

The first death was the most painful.

It was a cold new year's eve as Phainon stood at the doors of his new apartment. Luggage in hand, and a check.

The moment he was accepted to college, Phainon had packed his bags. To get out. They had even said that since tomorrow was his birthday, Phainon would be a fully fledged adult.

As a bonus, they had even kicked him out the moment Cyrene had left. The moment that their favorite, and only person who really cared for him left, they had discarded him as if they were nothing more than a wrapper.

(Not that he really cared).

He excitedly walked into his studio room. It wasn’t the nicest, but it was his. A new beginning! A new life away from that suffocating household.

No more stiff dinners with him scraping up the scraps, no more huddling up under cold covers when Cyrene was away.

“I think it’s time to celebrate a new beginning with the last chapter!” He cheered, pulling up his novel. The Hand of Shadow was a web novel that helped him through childhood.

Phainon’s favorite character was the protagonist, Castorice, she was so kind, believing that everyone has good in them. Granting every one of them a second chance. Phainon wished that he could be that same as her.

It was slightly corny, but Phainon eats those stories up every time!

If he was granted another chance, would use any second chance he gets for good. He’d surely make improvements as a thank you for their kindness. Live every life to the fullest.

…

…

…

“What the hell is this?!” Phainon stared at the screen. “Castorice! Cipher! Mydeimos! Nooooo!” He sobbed. Those darn villains! Castorice gave you a second chance! What kind of end even is this?

All the villains ganging up to murder the main character and her friend and lover?

He reread the passage over and over.

[Castorice eyes shifted to Cipher crumpled to the ground, and as Mydei slid off the blade of the Flame Reaver. Castorice scrambled to her lover as she held her dearest close to her heart.

“Hah…hah… HAHAHHAHA” A chilling laugh spiraled out of her. Sending a shiver down the Reaver’s spine. Castorice gave the Reaver an ominous glare. “How could you? I believed you could change. All of you could!”

Tears ran down her face, along with the rain that washed the blood from the ground. A wicked smile plastered on her face.

The monsters stepped away, taken aback from the reaction of the gentle Death Maiden. Only the Flame Reaver stood tall.

“No matter what I do…it always leads to death.” Castortice murmured darkly. “All of you, shall perish.”

As those words left her mouth, a rift cracked open, flowers from the sea of souls bloomed, dark hands of shadow reached out dragging them into the abyss.

Her hands flew to her scythe. The Reaver pushed forward, unsheathing his sword, as a clean slash at the saint’s neck decapitates her.

The flowers began to decay, as vines of darkness overtook the scene.

The monsters that refused a second chance ran around panicking, reaching a bloody ending. Flame Reaver moved Cipher, Mydei, and Castorice’s bodies together.

He looked up at the world around him.

As darkness and decay enshrouded the world, death being the salvation, purifying this tainted world.

Only a sword of tribute lays against the battlefield for the three heroes.

The end.]

Stupid author! “I could totally write a better ending than this!” He growled, almost throwing his phone at the wall.

Almost. He couldn’t afford paying for a repair. After all, he was going to leave his dump after college, and Phainon will probably need every penny imaginable. The clock hit midnight.

Fireworks popped, the thin walls barely making a difference if he were outside.

Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday Phainon. He murmured to himself. “It’s a new life from here on.”

He drifted into a sweet slumber.

Blissly unaware. He couldn’t sleep for that long anyway, the mattress springs felt uneven and hard. He should invest in an actual bed.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Water? This place has a leak too? Phainon turned away. He was also going to repair that too. That leak would cause some serious damage.

Shivering as the cold crept up at him, Phainon also vowed to buy a cover, and maybe a pillow if his budget allowed him.

Or a mattress. It really hurts to sleep here, it's no better than the floor!

He jolted awake at the sound of banging at his door. Were the landlords already demanding rent? And that was then he noticed the room. This wasn’t his.

Medieval, if he were to call it. Far from the modern room.

No rusty stove, or beat up fridge. The smell of mold even more pungent, more so than his apartment. And vegetation literally inhabited this place like a mini jungle.

Old torn up and dusty paintings, a broken desk, and a shattered mirror. Nothing like the room he was just in.

He pushed off the dusty floor onto his hands and knees.

“Where am I?” He paused. Why was his voice so squeaky? He eyed his limbs. “I’m tiny?!” Phainon scrambled to the puddle of water, looking at his reflection.

The same exact face when he was adopted. He was 12? Where did his 8 years go? The banging sped up, just like that fbi meme that was kind of overused. (But still funny to him).

Phainon crept open the door, a tall lady in a long maid uniform scowled at him. Her long brown pulled up tightly, and braided up into a bun, looking like someone of importance.

It was as if she was mimicking someone with dignity. However her matted hair with tangles and loose ends disrupted the illusion.

Along with rough hands that told a story of years of hard work.

His cheek burned, as Phainon reached up to touch the sting pain, he looked up at the woman. She dusted her hand off. “Damn mutt, ignoring and disrespecting me.”

Her eyes narrowed down at him. “Punishment is in order.” She grabbed him by his collar and shoved him to the left. “Go to your instructor.” He nodded, feeling dazed as he walked down the hall.

He was turned and pushed around the maze of a run down house? Area? Pushed around with other maids, workers, and a butler.(?) Until he reached the backyard. A man looked down at him. Striking Phainon a second time of the day. “You're late.”

“I-I I’m sorry?” Phainon tried, giving a gentle smile. But this seemed to make the man get even more angry.

“Since you clearly have energy for smiling, it's ten times the amount of training today.” He snickers.

At the end of the day, Phainon was winded. Arms jelly, legs mush. His hands collapsed and splintered. Where the hell was he? Old grand places, knight training, and clear child abuse.

He bumped into the maid on that way back to the room he had started in. She pulled out a very thin looking stick.”Bare your ankles to me.”

Confused, he did so. His very first mistake. A painful whip, slashing at him. He yelped in pain. A red slash marked painfully on his ankle.

Seems like training wasn’t the punishment this lady demanded.

That night, Phainon laid in bed. Clutching his bleeding ankles. He could feel the sting laced though his bones.

Phainon writhed in pain, for the whole night, and next day. Red soaking the rag on the floor. Maggots chewed through the flesh, as flies landed and flew around.

He tried to shoo them off, but that action only resulted in opening his wounds even further. The smell of rot mixed with the mold. Or in other words, sickness.

The headmaid, the woman who had punished him earlier, decided that the smell was unbearable, and ordered to stuff the room with cheap incense.

The smoke made his eyes hurt, and it was hard to breathe. Phainon found himself gasping for air to no avail. The sheer amount of incense made the room heavy with sandalwood and lavender.

Not like they could hire a doctor or anything. Phainon tried his best crawling and trying to stop the bleeding by wrapping his legs with cloth and the vegetation that covered his room.

It didn’t help. In fact, it might have made things worse.

Fading in and out of consciousness, Phainon had died.

When he awoke from the bad dream., three drops of water splashed next to the floor, then, loud banging on the door.

And he was here again.

Phainon doesn’t know how many times, how many changes, yet the same fate always awaits him. Death. No comfort, just hurt.

He had gotten farther on his second try, sucking up to the headmaid, trainer, and he had sucked up to the master, Lygus. He was even introduced to high society!

Lygus was…weird. Always looking at him. Never mentioned in the novel, and why adopt Phainon if he didn’t take care of him in the first place?

“What name do you want?” Lygus had asked him.

“Phainon.” He had answered.

“Phainon…. What a lovely name.” Lygus had said, “A lovely name for a beautiful boy.”

It made his skin crawl.

Lygus also never agreed to take Phainon anywhere, only until he got some letter he allowed it.

Wandering around the halls, he had met his heroes! Catsorice looked so beautiful, grateful, and truly the embodiment of a saint! (Shame that Cipher and Mydei weren't there.)

Then, after a week of finally being adopted, he was poisoned. Burning seized his throat, constricting breathing, then, he was gone.

On his fifth try, he died to angry nobles (Again) trying to take revenge on Lygus. After working up to be adopted by that guy.

He had even found that the room had a secret compartment with a diary. So he had read the contents on his sixth life.

But the diary was blank. So he decided to use it.

Then, on the seventh try, he found that what he wrote from his last life was still recorded.

Maybe it was his twentieth try, of trying to change and alter each loop. Where he had died to the Crown Prince after being framed and accused of treason.

He was blindfolded, tied up, and thrown into a dungeon before a demanding presence swooped the room.

He only knew it was the prince because of the other warriors addressing the voice.

“This world never changes,” Phainon muttered, laying in bed on his thirty-secondth loop. He had never made it past 29. He sat up, “But I’ll work harder! I was very close to the middle of the story.”

“The Flame Reaver should have appeared by now.” He pondered, what did he change that the Reaver was no more? At least his action does have some power over the story.

That gave him hope.

It was on his 40th loop he realized. He couldn’t have a happy ending.

He could barely remember the novel, and he wants out.

He must have an ending. He has too.

But, not at the cost of Catorice’s. He sighed. He’ll achieve both happy endings.

Phainon panted as the sun went down, and the entire training ground was mowed. His hands battered and bruised. The grass and weeds piled high. Along with plucked up buttercups. The yellow flowers yanked out with the weeds.

He sighed out to the world, looking up at the rosy evening. “Death is the only end for villains."

“So why can’t I have my ending?”

Chapter Text

Phainon wipes the sweat from his brow, it took more effort than he had expected.

Though, he did go a little overboard this time. Channeling everything into his swing.

If it was him in the last cycle, he’d probably finish in 10 measly swings.

Damn this cursed weak body!

All the same routine, no deviations, and powerless. If only he was strong already.

He needs to improve, and progress quickly. If he’s too slow, the butterfly will flap its wings.

All he needs is to remember exactly what he’d done every time.

No pressure. No pressure at all, he had his notebook after all.

Unfortunately, half of Phainon’s journey is to suck up to Lygus. He can’t get a better trainer if Lygus hates him. (Which he doesn’t, but Phainon does.)

After all, Lygus had always looked at him weirdly. Phainon shivers as he thinks about it. That dripping glare that sticks to him like tar.

Phainon shakes that thought off.

Inside the building, Phainon finds the head maid. Same bun and same scornful glare. Wow, he forgot how much they hated him.

“Ma’am?” Phainon asks, the headmaid stares down at him, before ignoring him. “Could I help you clean?” He asks, tilting his head. He tries to open his eyes wider at her like a lost puppy.

“Sure.” She snickered before shoving a broom in his hands, out of nowhere. “I want this place spotless.” He took the broom and hurried off to the abandoned part of the building. Which was the wing his room was in.

He fiddled with the broom, getting a better hold of it before starting to pick up the pace. It was better than the sword he was given.

Phainon smacked around the cobwebs, and piled up all the clutter. Before shuffling through it. “Where is it?” He muttered. Shuffling out all the paper, rocks, and scrap.

What corner was it?

In his second life, he had found a small bright red stone, a ruby, when he had offered to clean to win favors from the adults.

“Ouch.” He eyes the blood on his finger, and takes out the metal scrap from it. Hopefully, not too bad of a consequence.

He dusted up the stone and held it to his eye. “Magic stone acquired.” He snickered. How it got there, he wasn’t sure, but how It wasn’t found, he definitely knew.

This was a dead end, and his room was the only thing here.

And nobody in this house really liked him, for some reason.

However, sometimes it’s not there, so good thing he was quick enough to get it before it disappeared.

After tidying up the hallway more, he ran to the butler. Before, he went to the headmaid, and that wasn’t the smartest move, however, the butler was his key to Lygus.

After a couple hours of searching, and pretending to clean, he couldn’t find the butler. Where is that old man? He grumbled a bit before giving up.

Was Phainon too slow with mowing the lawn? He was taking out all his pent up anger on it. Or was he too quick with finding the ruby? He could wait, but the maids eye him and whisper amongst themselves.

Phainon put the broom stick away and crept back into his room, hiding the ruby with the book under the floorboard. He’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

Damn delay.

He closes his eyes, arms sore from the work out. He’ll have to work on his strength and endurance.

How many years would that be? He can’t waste time can he? A slack life perhaps?

No. He can't.

He can't stop for a moment. Or else he’ll forget, and lose everything.

Forget the choices, and he’s stuck.

So keep moving Phainon.

He’ll rest when he’s dead.

…

If only.

Phainon closes his eyes, his arm over his face.

He’s so close to the end. He’ll leave and be free.

But…what's even waiting for him at home?

An end. An end to his pain. And right now, a dream is his only relief.

“Meeeem! Memm!”

Mem? What an odd dream.

A soft creaking noise echoes through the room. And a straining “mem” noise sounds very close. You know, maybe this isn’t a dream.

Phainon snaps his eyes open and stares to his right. A pink squirrel(?) rabbit(?) thing pries open the floor board holding up the ruby. “Mem?” It looks straight at him.

Ten beats of silence, as they stare each other down. “Mem!” It shrieks, before running out the window.

“Wait! My ruby!” Phainon shoots up, missing the tail of the creature by a hair.

He hops out, rolling on the grass, and chases the rabbit. It whirls through a hole in the tall cement wall.

A hole Phainon wasn’t aware of. Covered by shrubs and overgrowth.

He squeezes through barely, before continuing the chase. The streets are almost empty. The full moon lighting up the deep dark sky. Stars are scattered and twinkle mysteriously. But Phainon isn’t worried about that.

They run into town. An empty, clean street. Somewhere new, somewhere he never went too.

The rabbit weaves through the empty stalls, and takes a sharp turn left. Phainon still chases it, his chest hurting from the run. (He definitely should work on his endurance.)

The chase continues on for a while. Phainon only follows every movement of this pink thief.

It dips into the woods, and the branches save him, as the foliage crunches with every step he takes.

Left, right, right, turn around, left.

He notes down its movements, as he dodges around shrubs and thorns.

Still, the branches and brambles still nick his exposed skin, even cutting his thin shirt.

He makes it out the forest, with a large twisting river meeting his eyes. The rabbit jumps down to the bed.

He crouches down, sneaking up on the creature.

Bam!

“Got you!”

“MEEEEM!” It tries to wriggle free, but he snatches the ruby back. “Thank you for returning this to me.”

“Why do you keep saying Mem?” He asks, before it stares at him with wide eyes. As the ruby shines into a bright light.

“You idiot!" It shouts. “Huh? Mem can talk?”

“What, you can talk?”

“Guess Mem can- wait that's not the point!” It kicks him in the hand. “Why did you chase Mem?”

“You stole my Ruby!”

“No, it's Mem’s gem!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh!”

“Well where is the magic stone then?” Dang it. This pink thing fumbled all his plans! How will he get closer to Lygus?

Mem starts running, but then Mem was yanked back, smacking him square in the face. Mem had only gotten about 5 feet away from him.

Then, he tries, 5 feet away, Mem yelps as it hits him in the back of the head with its full body

Great. Now he was stuck with this rabbit.

They both walk up the river. Phainon scanned the area, new. And new is bad.

The butterfly had flapped its wings twice today.

Phainon starts to walk along the riverbed.

“Hey! Wait up! Mem has tiny legs!” Mem squeaks.

Mem catches up, clinging to his leg, and climbs up, resting on his shoulder.

“Could you not?” Phainon deadpans. Trying to shake Mem off.

“You're not the one who is flung back like a plush toy!”

True.

“Where am I?” Phainon mutters to himself. He has been so caught up in the chase that he didn't check for his surroundings.

“Mem doesn't know either.” Mem says. Unhelpfully

The sun starts to rise as the horizon melts like butter. Phainon’s stomach growls.

And so does Mem’s. They stare at each other before climbing back to the woods for food.

After getting something to tie them over, Phainon ponders.

Should he go back? He doesn't want to. But this is new, and who knows what would happen.

Does he really need an instructor? He’s sure he remembers everything from all of those lives. And who even needs high society?

But if he forgets… then it would be back to one.

Oh, but he doesn’t have the ruby anymore, so what's the point?

Wait.

His notebook!

“Mem! Do you remember how to get back?” he asks, his voice breaking.

“No….”

“No? No? Please! Try to remember!”

Mem blinks at him, sympathy plasters over Mem’s face. “Mem could try…but Mem doesn't want to go back to that house.” They twiddle their non-existent fingers. (Which is just pressing their paws together.)

“Please! I need my notebook! I won't go back! I just need it with me!”

He’s on his knees now. Clasping his trembling hands together.

Mem nods before pointing to a direction.

The journey was long. But he made it. The house was in chaos as they seized him. The head maid’s hold constricting his arm, leaving imprints after throwing him back into the room.

Along with tossing Mem out the window.

“You goddamn brat! You need to be punished!” The headmaid snarled. She slammed the window shut, and locked him into the room to grab her whip.

Mem fumbled with the window lock as Phainon scrambled to get his notebook. His only possession.

Phainon went for the broom, and he can hear Mem hitting the window.

His heart was beating quickly.

Not again. No more lavender incense. Never again.

He hit the window with the broom. Once, twice, thrice! It shattered into pieces, raining down onto Mem.

He jumped out, grabbing Mem by the scruff, and sprinting back into the forest. “Eep!” Mem squeaks, but Phainon only ran. Holding the notebook close to his chest.

Never looking back.

~~~

They reach a river, and Phainon strips his shirt and pants before wading in the water.

Phainon stands in the river. His shadow hidden from the tree overcast. He bends down… and-

Splash!

He misses it by…. A long shot.

“You said you weren’t going to get Mem wet!” The pink creature cries. Climbing onto a rock jutting out. Their fur dripping

“Well we’re in a river trying to sell fish for money!” Phainon argues. “It was your idea not to stay in that house Mem!”

“We’re we even going to be fed there?”

“Enough not to die…” Phainon answers. Mem gives him a deadpan.

“For two? Or one?”

“Good point.”

Phainon dives right into the river again. “You were not close at all.” Mem offers.

“Wow. Thank you so much. I would’ve never known.”

Phainon shivers as he shakes off the water, pulling on his clothes farther away from the lake.

~~~

After five whole hours, Phainon caught, not two, not three, not four fish, but a grand total of…..

One fish.

At least it was decently sized for a boy and a small rabbit.

They start to walk in the direction of town. When they get there, Phainon manages to get 5 copper coins!

“…”

“Mem thinks we got scammed.”

Yeah, Phainon too.

So, they manage to buy a low quality black cloak, with all the money. “I think I have to fish again.”

So back to the river! When they reach a new part or the rapids, they start again. This time, catching a smaller fish. But, enough for both of them.

The sun is down, they need to set up camp. Phainon and Mem scramble around, picking up dry sticks around the area.

Phainon pauses after hearing rustling in the bushes.

Phainon grips the broom tighter as they head closer to the bushes near the river.

Mem nods at Phainon.

Meme quickly moves the foliage apart. Phainon readys up with the broom. Pointing it at a-

Kid?

The kid looks tiny. He glares at them, balling his hands into fists. The kid reaches back, a hand clenching around a very sharp looking rock.

Dirty blond hair, with red at the ends. Phainon winces as he can see the kid’s bones.

Bruises and cuts adorn the kid. Poor thing, the wounds are going to get infected, even if he took a dunk in the river.

Phainon slowly sets the broom down, kneeling in front of the child. “Hey there…”

The kid narrows his eyes, settling into a fighting stance. Phainon raises his hands in surrender. “I come in peace.”

The kid pauses for a moment, but then lets out a string of broken up words, in a language Phainon does not understand.

He must have not spoken in a while, since his words come out shaky and barely audible from a whisper.

“P-Pardon?”

The kid then lunges at Phainon like a rabid animal. Phainon jerks back, out of range.

“Mem thinks he’s not going to trust you.” Mem whispers.

Phainon slowly backs up. “He looks hungry.” He whispers back.

Phainon looks at the fish before offering it to the kid.

The kid eyes it, as his stomach growls, but he doesn’t move. “It’s not poisoned." Phainon says. But at the last word, the boy actually snarls at him!

In Phainon’s something years of his many lives, he had never heard anyone do that. Is this kid a cat or something?

Phainon backs off. “Are we leaving him?” Mem asks.

“No, I have an idea.” Phainon won’t let a kid starve.

~~~

The warm scent of smoke wafts through the air. The fire crackles as the fish skewered on a stick roasts.

“Can Mem have a bite? Just one??” Mem holds out their grubby little paws, but Phainon stops them.

“You need to let the little one eat first.” He scolds.

“But Mem is more little than that kid!”

Phainon ignores them. And inches back to the shrubs. “Delivery! Yummy food!”

The kid only glares at him, and growls. Phainon leans in. “Open wide! Take a bite!” He waves the fish just a little closer.

The lunges, knocking Phainon to the ground. Mem jumps forward, saving the fish from hitting the floor. Nice Mem!

The kid scratches, kicks and bites! Phainon is not the bigger person. So, he does the same. Although, he does not bite. (That's something, right?)

Dust billows, and his scratches start to sting his arms. The kid lands a punch to Phainon's cheek. Despite the mess, this kid seems to know a thing or two about combat.

Phainon wrestles the kid, pinning him down with his body weight. He thrashes about trying to get out. “Mem! The fish!”

Mem passes him the food, as he then shoves it into the kid's mouth. The kid bites the fish, and Phainon pulls it away as a good amount of food is ripped off.

Phainon presses his hands around the kid’s chewing so he doesn’t spit out his sustenance. Wow, Phainon feels very accomplished today!

Phainon takes a bite to show that the fish is safe, and passes it to Mem to feed them too. Phainon will feeling good, until-

Wait- was the kid allergic? Did Phainon kill someone in an attempt of goodwill? Phainon glances down. The rowdy kid is now peacefully chewing. No signs of a reaction.

Phew. Phainon will have to be more careful in the future.

They sit around the fire, Phainon’s new cloak around the shoulders of the kid. “So, uh do you speak Okhaman?”

The kid only glares at him. “Um… how about a name?” Phainon tries. Still no answer.

“Maybe he’s non-verbal.” Mem supplies. But didn’t the kid speak in another language? But Phainon shouldn’t assume.

“Then can you use sign? Or understand what I'm saying?” Phainon says. The kid only shifts away, shivering, tugging the cloak tighter around him. “Are you cold kiddo?”

Phainon sits closer, opening his arms. The kid inches away. Instead, Mem crawls closer, curling up on Phainon's thigh. “Oh! Maybe he talks like you Mem?”

“Can he understand Mem?” Mem perks their ears up, blinking at the kid. “Mem mem mimi!”

The kid only deadpans and curls his knees to his chest. Guess he can’t understand Mem either.

He closes his eyes and falls asleep. Phainon smiles. “Sweet dreams kiddo.”

The kid is still upright, and his legs are still in an odd position. Is he sleeping? Phainon's not sure.

Phainon picks up his notebook from his side, flipping through the pages. He takes a charred stick, and starts to write. “I’ll need to sew more pages in.” He mutters absentmindy to himself.

Next morning, Phainon does his daily routine, workout, sword swings, (Or broom swings) and now trying to fish in the river.

During his mini training session, the kid stared at him, being very judgey. But, later joined him from a distance.

The kid only watches him with a frown. Then, it shifts to amazement when Phainon catches a fish. “Haha! I’m getting good at this right?”

This time, the kid nods.

“Did you just answer?” Phainon gasps, “You can understand me?” The kid facepalms, and turns away with a huff.

Okay? He’ll take that as a no then.

Phainon tosses the fish to Mem, and continues to drench himself in the river.

5 copper pieces, and a whole fish to his name! With the money, Phainon purchases two water skins, and pockets the last coin, and runs back to the river.

“Deliverly!” Phainon calls in a sing-song voice. He crouches down, giving the coins to the kid. “Be sure to save up kiddo! You’ll need money.”

The kid blinks at his palm. Then, right up at Phainon, confusion painting his face. “These are copper coins, you can buy things with them.” Phainon explains.

“Mem’s done with the fire!”

“Coming!” Phainon calls. “Hehe lunch will be done shortly.”

Phainon shuffles to Mem, trying his best to descale the fish with a sharp rock.

The kid scowls at that, but stays silent.

After a few beats, a small voice whispers to himself.

“...Deliver…ly?”

~~~

Over the course of the week, Phainon is getting better at catching fish if he says so himself. This time, he made 15 copper coins! It's actually kind of fun.

As a bonus, Phainon is finally showing some muscle from his workout! The kiddo isn’t as skinny as before, but still very scrawny.

Speaking of the kid, he finally started to answer him with nods! Hehe Phainon must be a great Okhaman teacher.

Phainon bought a bag, another cloak, and a dull sword! (Finally he can retire that broom!) Then, he kept two of the leftover coins, and gave another to the kid! It's even now!

On the 8th night, Phainon was flipping through the pages of his journal. The fire crackled as ash started to flutter with the wind.

“Where is that page?” Phainon mutters to himself.

Mem was busy chowing down on a fish that the kid prepared.

He had stared at Phainon’s preparation and took it upon himself to do it. Phainon wonders how the kid learned that.

“Hmm.” The kid pokes him.

Phainon pauses to look at him. “What's up?” Phainon looks at the thing the kid used to poke him.

A small twig with a few leaves and a flower blossom. Kid thrusts it into Phainon's hands.

“For me? Thank you!”

When the wind started to rage, and their cloaks weren’t enough to keep them warm, they huddled up in the kid’s hidey hole!

Mem started to snore on Phainon’s lap, as the rain belted down. “Are you cold?”

The kid nods. Phainon opens his cloak as the kid leans on him. “Better?”

Another nod. “Deliverer…” The boy squeaks out.

“ Deliverer? Is that a nickname?”

The kid tilts his head.

“Is it because I bring you food?”

Another nod. The kid blinks again, this time, drowsily.

“Good night kiddo.”

“..Mmm.”

Phainon closes his eyes. Sleep overtaking him.

~~~

Phainon woke to a sleeping Mem. The kid, nowhere to be seen. Phainon carefully picked Mem up so as to not wake them up.

He crawls out, dusting off the dirt from his clothes. The kid was at the side, punching a tree?

“Are you training?” Phainon ruffled the kid’s hair, the dirt and the matted hair made it rough to the touch. He glanced at the tree. Very, very large indentations.

“Mmm.” The kid says proudly. Phainon had gotten used to this form of communication. He glances closer at the tree.

Splintered and sharp.

Chapter Text

Phainon whirls at the kid. Holding up his knuckles. They were covered in splinters, mud, and leaves.

“Why did you do that!?” Phainon snaps. The kid stares at him with wide eyes. He hisses and pulls his hands away.

Mem shoots up awake. “AH! What happened?”

“Stay here, I'll see if I can buy you bandages." Phainon orders, he tugs on his hood and heads off to town.

~~~

“What happened when Mem was asleep?” Mem asks, tucked inside his hood and resting around his neck.

“He was punching a tree till his hands bled.” Phainon enters town, and heads to a shop. “Shh, we're in public now.”

The merchandise wasn’t much to look at. Drap, but still reliable. Mem gazed at pens, ink and even stories. She pokes the back of his neck, over the medical supplies.

With the remaining coins, he got a very small roll of bandages. “How’d ya get the money?” The woman asks, raising a brow.

“I was selling fish.” Phainon smiles.

The woman smirks. “If ya sell me that pretty pink rabbit, you’ll get some serious money.” She drops some silver on the counter. “Why don’t ya sell her to me? Give ya a bang for your buck!”

Mem freezes. “No thanks! She’s my best friend! Like a sister!” Phainon nervously chuckles, he speed walks out the door.

“Lemme know if ya change your mind!” She calls out.

“Thank you..” Mem whispers, she curls up closer to Phainon.

“It’s no-”

“Sir? Have you seen a boy with white hair and blue eyes?” Someone snaps.

“I haven’t. Why? He a pickpocket?” Phainon turns to them, a soldier, a hooded person, and an old man.

The soldier holds up a paper, with his face drawn on. Oddly detailed. “Lord Lygus is looking for him.”

Phainon starts to back away, then he spins to run away but someone spots him. “Hey you! Stop right there!”

Phainon starts to sprint. He leans more forward, trying to keep his hood on. Mem notices this and grabs onto it.

He slides into an alleyway, looking back, he can see the shadows on the ground. He takes a sharp left. “Phainon! There!” Mem calls, pointing out another path.

The tall buildings towered over him, the shadow cascading over him. His heart raced, and his vision started to tunnel.

It was as if he was running back into Thanatos’ palms.

He took a right this time, right back on the crowded streets trying to blend in. He glanced back to find the soldier filter through the crowd to get to him.

From the corner of his eye, the cloaked man only stood in the shadows. Watching.

Watching him.

He couldn’t. Right?

Phainon pushed through the crowds and circled once or twice. Passing through the mazes of alleys and oceans of people.

Under stairs, behind crates, and around barrels.

He peeked around the corners, no one.

Not even the cats stirred.

The silent back ally was unnerving. Mem curled up closer to his hood, as far as she could so that it didn’t fall off.

His hand fell to his bag, feeling the shape of his book, then, it glides to his sheath.

Shing!

He spun around to parry an attack.

The soldier.

Mem yelped as they clung tighter to Phainon’s robes.

He went for a shallow cut, as Phainon ran his own blade down the hands of his enemy, he was forced back with a sharp kick to his stomach.

“Urk!” He tumbled, his bag flying off, scattering his belongings. He tried to quickly recover, but he was too slow. Reacting to the blade that shot at him, another block, and another step back.

Clang! His cheek was nicked.

A step back.

Clank! He made a shallow cut on his enemy’s shoulder.

A step forward.

Shing!

A step back.

Back.

And back again.

Each driving him back, one step after another.

Until-

BAM! The man bent down, elbowing Phainon, then-

He was pinned down.

He tried to fight back, trying to snap, bite, but he froze.

He kicked at the attacker, flailing around. Until-

A cloaked figure stepping forward, holding something pink. Furry. Alive.

Mem.

“Let her go!” Phainon cried. He tried to wriggle free, but to no avail.

The man kneels before him, and tugs off his hood.

Lygus.

“There you are.” He reaches out, pulling off Phainon's hood and caressing his cheek. “Your little tantrum created such a panic in the back estate.”

Lygus pokes and prods at Phainon neck. “What a lovely neck you have.” He caresses it roughly. “And a beautiful sun tattoo… interesting.”

Don’t touch him.

“W-what do you want?” Phainon gasped, letting out a choked sound.

Don’t touch me.

Lygus only snickers. “I want you to come back home.” He uses his pointer finger to tilt Phainon’s head up toward him. “Home to me.”

“No.”

Lygus only smiles, squeezing Mem tighter, and picking up a knife. Phainon’s eyes widened.

“No. No. Stop. Let Mem go.”

“Ah, so it’s name is Mem.”

Stop.

“It’s not like I can let it go.” He throws Mem far away before they’re slung back to Phainon on the ground. Limp.

No. Stop. Just stop.

“So I can free you from it.” His hand snakes back to the dagger.

Stop. Cease. Begone!

He uses his foot to slowly step on Mem’s tail.

“Eep! Mem…Mem!”

Please…no.

He raises the blade.

No. Don’t.

It swings down towards Mem’s head.

“Stop!”

The blade pauses, just barely a hair away from her.

“I-I go with you. I won’t fight. Just don’t hurt them.”

“Very well.” Lygus grabs a dark green pendant and ties it around Mem’s neck. “If you try and betray me, the pendant on this little thing will explode, and it will die in pure, blinding agony.”

Phainon bites his tongue. But he felt weak.

Lygus smiles, he traces a finger down Phainon’s face, over his nose, and onto his lips. “Now that’s cleared, do you have a name?”

Not for you to use.

“If not, I'll name you.” Lygus pretends to ponder. It's clear he already had a name picked out. “Let's go with Khaos.”

“Do you like it?”

No.

“Do you feel any particular connection with it?”

No.

“Let's go home, my Khaos.”

Phainon is hoisted up onto the soldier’s shoulder, and Mem is picked up.

They trudge back to his cage.

Mem stares at him with wide worried eyes.

Phainon blinks.

He’s back again.

This time, not the run down shambles of the back estate. But the front.

Marbled pillars, gold accents, glittering windows, and a neat garden of roses. Dazzling, elegant, and grand.

But so, so ugly.

They walk inside, the floor covered in a red carpet. “Prepare a room for my son Khaos.” Lygus claps his hands. “Then clean the grime off of his poor body.”

He glares at the headmaid. “And if there are any marks on his skin.” He walks up to her, sizing her up. “Then consequences are immeasurable. You may leave."

So, he and Mem are thrown into a bathroom. The headmaid only stares at him with pure complement, and she closes the overly decorated bathroom doors.

He crawls over to Mem, picking her up. “Mem! Mem! Are you okay?”

Mem only sniffs. “Phainon…M-mem w-was s-so so s-scare-scared!” They start to wail.

Phainon cradles Mem close. “Shhh. Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Ah. He lost his stuff. Didn’t he.

“P-Phai? M-Mem tried to s-save something.”

Mem shakes her tail, a soft black block falls out.

His book.

“M-Mem k-know how much it means to you..”

Phainon tears up. “M-Mem..you didn’t have too.” He tries to wipe his tears away. Mem pats his back.

“Mem w-wanted too. A-and Mem feels it is i-important.”

After the frigid bath, dressed in silk, Phainon is shown to a room.

Filled to the brim with extravagance. The velvet curtains cover the windows. Dark, cold and empty. The headmaid turns away, closing the door.

Mem tries to tug the green necklace off of their neck. Phainon walks to a desk. A small box is placed upon it with a note.

My prized child, as your guardian, I prepared you a gift. A small token of my love. A private box that can only be opened with one’s own magic. I left it alone so you can have your privacy.
-Your Savior

Cocky bastard.

Giving him a private box because he's betting it all on Mem’s safety.

Phainon picks it up, examining it. It seems Lygus didn’t lie about this. The box has no traces of mana.

At this time, Phainon does not have enough mana to expel. Otherwise, he'd die early again.

Mem stopped the struggle against the collar and hopped next to the box. “Do you want Mem to open it?”

“Yes please.”

Mem taps on the box with their paw, it shines a light pink hue as it opens. Phainon places it in his book. Mem closes the box, and they place it in a drawer.

Stalking to the large bed, they both sit. “Mem, you sleep. I’ll take watch.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It's been hard on you.” Phainon says, petting Mem’s fur.

“Okay… be sure to wake Mem up so Mem can take watch too.”

~~~

That night, Phainon didn’t sleep a wink.

And it may have been the only night he wanted to hear the same, drip, drip, drip.

Knock knock knock.

“Lord Khaos, Master Lygus is requesting you come down to breakfast."

Phainon opens the door as he is led to the dining room. Mem blinks awake in his arms.

“Good morning Khaos, please sit down, I hope it's to your liking.” Lygus says, gesturing to the end of the table.

Rabbits, and squirrels.

All cooked up in various dishes, but still recognizable from what animal it was made from.

Mem only looks at the food, and hops onto Phainon’s lap, huffing about how, “Mem’s not a rabbit nor a squirrell!”

Phainon pokes at the food, passing some of it to Mem. “Thank you..Sir.”

“You’ll start your training today. I have high expectations for you Khaos.” Lygus smiles, “I know you won’t disappoint me.”

“Yes Sir.”

~~~

This was different from the other times. That, or Phainon’s memory had dulled over time. It's hard to keep track of everything, even if it was written down.

An actual sword, training grounds, and mentor.

1000 push ups, 500 squats, and a 100 mile sprint. Plus a few others. Including weight lifting, swimming, and leaping for a bell high up, this was slightly familiar.

Lygus claimed it was to ‘prepare for danger.’

But what he actually meant, was for Phainon to be an assassin

Nothing more fitting for a villain.

The only thing that was actually new was that the mentor taught him magic?

Feixiao clapped her hands together.

“You have a familiar,” she gestures to Mem. “Surely you have excess mana.”

Phainon shakes his head. “No…I don’t.”

Feixiao squints her eyes at them. “Well, then, one the third day, we shall cultivate your mana reserves.”

She flips over a packet of documents. “Then, on the fourth, we’ll try out aura instead of magic. Understand Lord Khaos?”

“Uh- Sure.” Phainon says, Mem watches from the ground.

“Well then, get to work!”

~~~

Sore, was an understatement. His arms, and legs felt really tight. Then, when he took a step, his legs collapsed like it was made out of jelly.

Even when he stretched, it would creep up on him. Even when sitting down, they still pulsed. Phainon shit his eyes tighter, trying to steer his mind away from the aching in his limbs.

Mem was sitting right beside him, also trying to follow the instructor's guidance.

“Try and feel it in your core, coursing through your body, be aware of it. You must channel that energy to your weapon, for it is your extension of your body.”

She circled behind him, kicking his back to a straighter position.

“Focus lord Khaos! This also strengthens your bond with the pink familiar of yours.”

How?! We're both sitting here! Is it a connection with boredom?

“Y-yes ma’am.” This earns him a bonk on the head with her packet of documents.

“No talking!” She snaps.

~~~

The next day, he is sparring.

Cling!

Shing!

Clank!

Bam!

“Your form is good!” She rasps, as her sword is parried. She swings her leg to kick his head, but Phainon ducks in time.

Mem watches them form the max distance they can. Occasionally moving around to avoid getting yanking in the fight.

“Same to you-” He slashes his blade at her feet, causing her to jump back.

“You’re improving, but-” Her weapon glows a faint green, as her eyes light up, she arms for him as the blade cuts the air between them, much, much farther than what it can actually reach.

Phainon falters for a moment as the instructor takes the change dart behind him and japs the blunt end of her sword in his back. “-you haven’t taken your training to the next level.”

She paces around him. “Good work, and rest up, you’ll need it.” She offers out her hand to him.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

~~~

The 6th day is aura training.

“Aura is another way of channeling mana, unlike magic, the flow is still connected to your body.” Feixiao explains, she pulls out a small dagger. “Like I said, your weapon is an extension of your body, not just a tool for fighting.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, before a large beam of green mana in the form of concentrated wind engulf the blade, making it resemble a sword. “The more connected you are to your weapon, the easier it is to channel aura into it.”

Phainon closes his eyes, trying to feel the flow in his own body. It’s fragmented, like messy unconnected pieces of the wind. He blinks up at Feixiao.

She slashes at a training dummy across from the training grounds. “The way you view your mana, it will most likely manifest into that form. What may work for me, may not work for you.”

Mem presses her paws together, “Meeem! Memi!” She grits. Phainon and Mem both agreed for her to talk in Mem with the company of others.

Better safe than sorry.

Feixuao kneeled in front of Mem. “Little pink familiar, you should specialize in magic.”

“Mem?”

“I can teach you magic, but it's more likely than you holding a weapon.”

Phainon cracks one eye open to look at them. But, Feixiao spots him. “You! Continue to focus!” She commands.

“Yes, Ma’am…”

“What have I said about talking?”

~~~

Inside, Mem drove her face into a book.

Magic basics for dummies.

And all it took was asking Lygus. (Ew)

“What do you need to do?” Phainon asks, peaking his head over. “Levitation?”

“Mem should concentrate on making a circle!”

She sprints to the desk, grabbing a plume and paper. Tracing a circle- um oval?

She places the feather pen into the middle. “Okay! Here Mem goes!” She rubs her paws together, “Mem mem, mimi mem!”

Nothing.

“Maybe you need the symbols, or a better circle?” Phainon supplies.

“Glyphs?!? Mem wants to do this advanced stuff! Not glyphs!"

Phainon pats her on the back. “More advanced than me.”

Mem huffs. “Don't flatter Mem!”

Phainon reaches over for a pile of paper, and picks up the pen from the bed. “ Let's try the spells together, shall we?”

“Okay!” Mem says, perking up. She flips through the pages.”Light spell! Let's do that one!”

Phainon chuckles, “Alrighty, let me write down the symbols..” He starts to scribble in the glyphs making a circle.

After he finished, Mem placed her paw in the middle. As she starts pouring in her mana, the ink starts to shine a light pink.

Once they were all glowing, Mem lifted her paw out of the circle, the symbols bleeding out back into the color of the parchment.

And an orb of light started to levitate out off the page hovering in front of them.

“Woah…why didn't you start with this?” Phainon says, breathless.

He pokes the orb as it disperses into small sparkles.

Mem pushes the feather pen back into his hand. “Mem wants to try the spell without the Glyphs next!”

Phainon chuckles, “Okay, okay, slow down.”

~~~

Phainon pushes the flow of mana into his sword, as he made a clean cut through the first training dummy, but not the second.

Feixiao shakes her head. “You can't force it. Here, what do you like?”

What does Phainon like?

He likes to sleep, and uh fish?

“Fishing and sleeping?” Phainon pipes up.

Feixiao rubs the bridge of her nose. “Okay- here think of your mana as waves or currents.”

Phainon squeezes his eyes shut for the nth time. Ocean waves….

How does that look like again?

Okay…river currents.. Wooosh swoosh.

He tries to direct the flow to his sword.

Fwoosh!

Phainon snaps open his eyes and swings-

Snap!

Phainon, Mem and Feixiao blinked.

Feixiao walked over at him and patted his shoulder. “At- at least you did it?”

“M-Mem memi mi!” (M-Mem took longer to learn the light spell!)

Phainon turns to his broken sword. No- destroyed. He holds up the only remaining piece- the handle.

“I don’t think this is working.”

~~~

“Lord Khaos, Master Lygus requested you to drink this.” The maid calls, knocking on the door.

Phainon pauses reading the magic spell book to Mem. Mem hides under the covers, as Phainon walks over to the door. He lets her in.

She walks in with a tray, holding a cup of water and a packet. She places it on the bedside, adding in the power and stirring in the cup of water.

She holds it out to Phainon.

“Right, thank you.” He holds the cup. “What's in the powder?”

“Drink it. Master Lygus’ orders.” She stands there. Not moving. Guess he really has to drink it.

Phainon looks at the swirling liquid. “Could you just tell me what's in this?”

The maid doesn't answer. Instead, she grabs his face, squeezing it open, and forces the drink into his mouth.

The motion was so sudden that the glass clinked on his teeth painfully. Most of the drink spilled onto the floor, running down.

Phainon kicks her off of him. Huffing. The cup shattered when it hit the floor.

The maid only picks herself up, dusting her uniform off. She walks out the door.

Phainon's legs buckle underneath him as he catches himself on the bed.

“Phainon!” Mem pops out and rushes to his side.

His heart started to pump almost abnormally, as sweat trickled down. His breathing heaved as his throat ran dry and constricted.

It felt as if Phainon was on fire. He collapsed onto the floor, leaning on the bed. Clawing at his burning throat.

Phainon tried to vomit it out, but nothing came.

His vision started to swirl, as he heard a small ‘click’ from the door.

Tears started to well up in his eyes.

Drip drip drip.

“Phainon! What are you talking about?” Mem cries, shaking him.

Huh, Phainon must've said it out loud.

Then words are fuzzy.

His throat felt itchy, like it was clamping up. He tried to flex it, but it rubbed together like it was sealing something shut.

He chokes out a bunch of liquid. The scent is almost identical to those of copper coins.

Strange. Why isn’t red like the other times?

His head is pounding, like a pulsing migraine.

No more… this life is over.

His fingers clamped around a glass shard.