Work Text:
A Heart Sacrificed
There stood the neus that gave entry to the gates of Pandæmonium. All rusted red and moss covered, thrumming with a faint but steady frequency. Calm and unmoving. Unused. Its inert and dim light bordered on offensive. Such a wretched device that functioned only when utilized as a means of transportation by those attuned to its aetheric signature. It knew naught of hope and desire, of how to make a wish come true, and mocked those who dared to dream in spite of this knowledge.
With furrowed brows, Themis circled the neus and kicked its base to check whether the device had become faulty in his absence—somewhere between the previous day and today. It could happen, after all. A wild minotaur could have trampled across the fields of Elpis, causing irreparable damage, and maintenance conducted by the researchers on the isle wasn’t out of the question either.
“I will admit” —the sound of Erichthonios’s voice, smiling and kind, caught Themis by surprise “—while these teleportation devices are due an upgrade, their current state hardly warrants such scrutiny as they’ve been subjected to of late.”
A comforting hand came to rest on Themis’s shoulder. “And I’ve received word from Hegemone that the neus within Pandæmonium hasn’t quite met your approval either. What troubles you, my friend?”
Nothing of which Themis would speak, nor could he meet his friend’s eye for the look held within his own, evidenced the aching of his heart more than words could ever convey. An agony that Altima’s greatest of works—sonnets and opuses combined—had failed to describe accurately and mayhap, had those works held the true depth of emotion that one might experience, Themis would have chosen never to open his heart in the first place.
If one held power over such a thing, at any rate.
“Naught’s amiss.” Turning away, Themis cast his gaze skyward and drew in a deep breath. Quiet and controlled, counted by the second before he dared speak again, “A weariness, mayhaps. The days have been uneventful and I find that my work as Emissary, at present, lacks in challenge.”
It wasn’t quite a lie. For the moment, none in Amaurot had need of his talents, and those he’d often spend his days with—Azem, Pashtarot, and Loghrif—had all been preoccupied with projects of their own. A journey to a faraway land on an errand for Lahabrea, further reinforcements applied to the security wards within the Akadaemia, a collaboration with the new Hermes. It kept them busy.
“Hmm,” mused Erichthonios, his shadow falling over Themis as he followed his friend who’d begun meandering along the waters of Lethe. No mind paid to curious concepts that paused their feeding and grooming rituals to observe the pair. “Yes. Compared to our recent endeavors, the days have been rather peaceful.”
Themis shrugged, barely noticeable and movement easily mistaken for the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves on the trees nearby.
“Of course, there is also the absence of our new friend. Gone, swift as they came,” Erichthonios continued and for a split second, Themis held his step. Parted his lips, a singular word nearly formed, but then he shook his head.
“Though I suppose that is their nature. Not unlike Azem’s in that regard, or so says my father.”
Stars above, was there no escaping Erichthonios’s chatter? Reluctantly, the Emissary nodded before marching on. Mayhap the neus at Propylaion functioned better, wouldn’t scorn him quite as much. It was certain to see more use, visitors arrived there daily and among them could be…
No, as with the Pandæmonium neus, the one he longed to see again wasn’t likely to utilize the aetheryte crystal at Propylaion. Not when they had direct access to Anagnorisis and surrounds beyond, but he had to try. Had to make certain against all odds, for they did have a habit of appearing in the most unusual of places, and with that thought in mind he briefly brushed his fingers along his forehead, a fond memory hailed.
“I wonder what adventures they may have embarked upon since last we saw them. Our friend, that is. If only there were a means through which we might reach out to them, exchange some form of communication,” Erichthonios pressed, wasting not a second on silence. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“Mhm.”
“Better still would be if they were to return for a visit and regale us with their stories. I certainly miss their company, and I’m sure you do as well.”
A fist balled at Themis’s side. One not born of anger but a necessary reflex to keep his emotions at bay. To still the rising sorrow within his heart that threatened to choke his feelings to the surface and spark tears within his eyes.
His falling star was gone and would not return. He knew it, and Erichthonios knew it too. Only a fool would hope that one day, they’d meet again beneath blue skies to bask in the sun’s radiance together.
“Themis.” Undeterred, Erichthonios hurried his step, cutting corners of the path to circle around and face his friend. “Talk to me. This brooding silence is unlike you, unless my father’s nature is as infectious as he claims Azem’s to be.”
The kind jest almost brought a smile to the Emissary’s face. Almost, were it not for the misery that clung like a shroud most dense around his petite form and had drained his energies. Sapped him of the strength required to reassure Erichthonios, beyond a few meager words offered.
“You mustn’t concern yourself with my wellbeing, I’m fine.”
“You’re not. We haven’t known each other for long, ‘tis true, but I can tell there’s a burden you’ve chosen to carry alone. I wish you wouldn’t.”
“It’s…”
Nothing. No one. There was no confession to make, not a word to be said about a fool’s heart bleeding when faced by the bitter reality of what could never be. Hadn’t ever been at all.
“Themis, please.” Rather than continue their trek toward Propylaion, Erichthonios placed a gentle hand between Themis’s shoulder blades and ushered him aside. Away from the prying eyes of those conducting research in the fields. “No matter what troubles your mind, great or small, I would hear it.”
“I…” An ironwood tree nearby offered both privacy and a sturdy foundation to rest against as Themis sank to his knees and sat down. “I miss them, and it bothers me that I miss them. I shouldn’t, there is no point to it nor is it a logical response to the knowledge that they won’t return to me—us, again.”
Erichthonios raised a brow. “It may not be a logical response, no, but it’s a normal one I’d think. The two of you shared a connection, did you not?”
“I couldn’t say. They…”
Gods, where should he begin? What was there to say about a rosebud that had missed its chance to bloom, denied the light of day and the warmth of the sun? Because that was the truth of their bond—a few stolen moments spent beneath the looming spires of Pandæmonium, and always interrupted. Little opportunity offered to explore what might be, and privacy? For too long, Hephaistos had remained lurking in the shadows, ever watchful and listening.
The most Themis had accomplished had been the back of his hand brushing the Warrior’s in passing, his step held long enough to cherish the pleasant sensation sparked across the surface of his skin. He’d caught his falling star’s smile more often than not when they’d looked his way and met his eyes. Through toxic fumes and raging flames, he’d witnessed not only their skill, but their elegance in battle. A dance often accompanied by a glint in their eyes that had set Themis’s heart alight.
Moments such as those had fed his hopes and dreams, kindled fantasies of what might be. They’d kept him comforted at night while the winds beyond the windows of his guests’ stay had howled with terror.
Those winds had since calmed and the Warrior had departed, leaving Themis’s dreams shattered. There was no longer a shared connection to speak of and, as time passed, he’d begun to wonder whether it had all been but a figment of his imagination.
Had the Warrior ever truly smiled at him at all?
“They appeared… dispirited, upon their departure,” said Erichthonios. “Had you noticed?”
“No, I—”
“As did you.”
Themis drew his knees up between encircling arms, a nice spot for his chin to rest upon. “I couldn’t bear to watch them leave,” he admitted. “To say goodbye and watch them choose a world that…”
To this day, he couldn’t be certain from whence the Warrior hailed. Some place that couldn’t possibly be his beloved Etheirys, of that he’d been convinced, and mayhaps his falling star had been a true traveler of the stars. It would certainly explain their unique connection to the Azem he knew.
“It must be quite a world, for them to leave us behind so easily.” He sighed.
“A place that needs them more than we do, at present,” Erichthonios reasoned, though to little avail.
Beside him, Themis continued to stare off into the distance. A sparkle, not borne of the joy he was known for, lingered in the corner of his eye. A tear bitter and hot. Despised, all the more so when it trickled from his lashes to roll along the curve of his cheekbone as evidence of his pain.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Tell you, what?” Themis frowned.
“How much you’d come to care about them. How much you’ve been hurting in their absence.”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” Themis’s jaw stiffened against the fresh onslaught of further tears rising to the surface. “There is no sense in dwelling on what could have been. On opportunities wasted.”
“Of course it matters.”
“Does it? What purpose is there in telling you—or anyone—that I can no longer appreciate the beauty of our sun because they’re not here to share in it with me? That I look upon the stars with envy for they might bear witness to the smile of one I’ll never see again.”
His voice broke along with the tension he’d clung to for strength. Come undone and defeated, a vast stream of those tears he resented began rolling down his cheeks to soak into the sleeves of his robe. Every part of him ached and he felt ill. Angered that he should lose himself so in the presence of another, frustrated by the tumultuous agony in his heart, and at a loss with himself.
Erichthonios had spoken true—this wasn’t like him at all, and it was certainly unbecoming of the Emissary to be weeping so for one who’d come and gone like many others. A simple visitor, nothing more.
“Themis…” The fierce sobs that wracked through his friend’s entire body and saw him shaking without relent, ached somewhere deep within Erichthonios as well. “Misery shared is…”
“A poor friend I’d be, were I to share even a fraction of this pain with you.” Themis’s muffled voice only barely reached Erichthonios. “It’s unbearable.”
With those last words, Themis sunk into the embrace Erichthonios offered. Desperately gasping for air because he couldn’t breathe through the agony and tears. He couldn’t stop his small frame from trembling, ill with the sort of unrelenting heartache he’d been trying to ignore for far too long.
To love and to see that love unanswered— to love and to see it answered and then to lose that love, was the cruelest of fates.
Should it be any surprise then that he, Themis, would choose to sacrifice his own heart to the Zodiark concept when the Final Days began? It had taken but a simple glance at Mitron and Loghrif, both in mourning for each other and the love they’d soon be without, for Themis to decide that he would take Loghrif’s place.
He would be the heart. As Themis, he’d lost his chance for love, but his heart still had use. As Zodiark, he would ensure that the love his people had found would remain forever protected.
The Warrior never returned to Elpis. To do so would be to say goodbye to Elidibus again. To Themis. They knew there would come a day, and mayhaps soon, when he and the Zodiark concept would become one and the Sundering would follow. ‘Twas a pain greater than even a hero of their caliber could bear and so they’d chosen to remember him as Themis. Their Themis. Bright-eyed and smiling, warm and kind, a little mischievous and most importantly, alive.
And Themis? He would one day visit the Waking Sands in his role as Emissary and stare into the face of one who wouldn’t know him. The eyes of one he could no longer remember, and his heart would weep once again without ever understanding why.
♥