Hers
He was always an enigma to her.
When she first saw him, her breath caught. He looked like her brother, and for a second, she thought he actually was. But he was much smaller, his hair cropped shorter and his face still childishly round. He had his fingers wrapped around their compass- just like Laphi would have done. But it was his eyes that shattered the illusion- a pale green instead of her brother's brown, dull and lifeless. He was a stranger- later, she learned that he was a doll; a tool, as Teresa called him.
But she had grabbed him, threatened to kill him- had, somehow, expected him to respond. He did- a little gasp of fear, followed by a fireball that threw their pursuers off their tail. She expected that would define their relationship forever. In his eyes, she would have killed him. She was a daemon, and he a malak.
She tried to ignore his hand, resting easily in her rough grip, and the way it reminded her of taking care of Laphi, all those years ago. Of her brother's soft smile and softer voice, gone forever.
But though the malak's voice was just as soft, he spoke in a stilted monotone. She hated it; hated the way he was willing to dispose himself by her order. Hated the thousand needles stabbing into her damaged heart whenever she glanced at him, a reminder of all she had already lost. It was a mistake ever bringing him on the ship, but she couldn't bring herself to throw him away.
Reminders, however flimsy, were all she had left.
But when he was about to be killed by a spider, adrenaline- and an incredulous fear- rushed through her. Later, Eizen explained that the boy hadn't cried out because of her order. She had lashed out at him- but truly, she was angry at herself. He wasn't Laphi, but he wasn't just a tool. He was a malak boy that had everything taken from him and left nothing but a hollow shell. A boy that almost died on her watch, after she had dragged him from the relative safety the Abbey had provided him. He had no place in her quest for vengeance, but neither did he have anywhere else to go.
So she watched out for him- told him to live, gave him Laphi's name. He was so much like her younger brother- curiosity gleamed from his eyes, and there was a delicate innocence in his every word. She tried her best to guide him- she didn't trust the company they kept. He gravitated towards her among their companions. Sometimes, she wondered if he had imprinted on her, like a hatchling bird to its mother. But every night, as he lay curled up by her side, she reminded herself who he was not. Of who she was not.
She scared him when she yelled at him, because she was a daemon- only a daemon. She scared herself when she found her hands at his throat, about to throttle the life from his brightened eyes. And though she tried not to think about it, the way he looked at her with fear hurt more than when she had first glanced at him. There was no way he would stick by her after that. With some difficulty, she rationalized it was for his own good.
But despite that, he had stayed. He had stayed, even when she commanded him as a tool to get her way- when he had ended up feverish and whimpering in her arms, his life disappearing before her very eyes. All of it was her fault- her stupid, stubborn fault.
She didn't know him. He wasn't her brother. He was a malak who had defied his master, who she had tried to kill. Who had saved her- solely because he didn't want her to die, even though he had all the reason to.
And as she watched him cry in her arms, she felt her heart ache. Deep down, she knew she couldn't bear to lose him, too. Couldn't bear to watch this innocent life that depended on her to be snuffed out- because of her.
So she had given him a choice. Any other person would have left. But he stayed.
Even so, things were different now. He was bound to Eleanor, and no longer did he linger as close to her as he once did. He laughed, he explored, he devoured the world with rapt attention and enthusiasm. Part of her felt lost- lonely. He was growing up, like a fledgling testing its wings. Despite herself, a familiar sensation returned: one day, he might leave her behind. Just like Laphi would have done.
And one day he turned on her, petulant and distraught. "I'm not your Laphi!" he had declared, his once-dimmed eyes burning bright with all the pent up feelings he now held.
And he wasn't- he was kind, he was curious, but he was his own person. She had always known that, but even so, she lapsed at times. It wasn't fair to him, nor to her. So she looked at him, engraved the image of who he was in her mind's eye, to remember him as who he was.
He was Phi. Phi, who bravely faced daemons and therions and dragons by her side. Phi, who strode by her side with growing determination. Phi, who refused to be tainted by her darkness. Phi- who refused to leave her side, no matter how angry and sad she was- no matter how many times she took it out on him. No matter how many times she hurt him, in order to keep him away from her.
He was Phi, who said her name with a bright, gentle voice.
He was always there, unmoving. A fragile little boy that refused to let the Lord of Calamity walk alone.
Not even as she broke down, as Laphi- as Innominat- wanted to devour her. Not even when she threatened to eat him again. Because he needed her to live- as his Velvet, alive and terrifying and kind. And in his eyes, she saw his acceptance, his unwavering determination, his selfish devotion that was akin to her own.
He fought Innominat by himself, no longer a child that cowered at every monster. He returned her comb, a smile on his face, even if she was the Lord of Calamity. And when she looked at him, standing by the port with his brave eyes cast to the horizon, she saw a bird that had learned to fly.
She often wondered who he was to her, after that. He was her dead nephew reborn, yes, but that didn't define who he was. He was someone who looked to her for guidance- but not in the same way he looked to Eizen. He was her friend, but what they had was something more. He was not her younger brother- nobody could take Laphi's place, she realized. He walked by her side, but at the same time, he flew where she could not follow. But there was a niche in her heart that Phi had carved for himself, some part of her that would always belong to him.
Once, she had taken the fact that she could hold his hand for granted. After the earthpulse, she wished she could carry him as she once did, wished that she could just brush the hair out of his eyes and wipe the dirt from his cheek. But she couldn't, not if she wanted to keep him safe. She treasured every second she could spend near him- even if they could not touch. Her heart filled with a bittersweet joy as he combed through her hair- as she told him that there was no turning back for her.
It tore at her. Her quest for revenge would end in not only her death, but also likely his, if he continued by her side.
He had known- had accepted it, with a sage wisdom that belied his years. Even so, she could feel the sadness he hadn't voiced out. After all this time, she knew him almost as well as he knew her. He had just begun to live, just begun to see and love the world they travelled.
But he didn't stop her, and instead, walked by her side one last time.
And now, she watched him as she embraced Innominat- as she embraced Laphi. Her mind was fuzzy as it drifted off to sleep, but she focused on the look in his eyes- on Phi. Brave and kind and stubborn and understanding, all packed within his clear, green gaze. He had always anchored her- just like she anchored him.
"I love you," he called out to her, his voice breaking with a sadness he would always bear.
For an instant, time seemed to stretch for an eternity. For that wavering second, she saw him for all that he was. The child that had once been her reminder, her responsibility- who had grown into a bird who would soar, a piece of her in his heart.
"I love you," she had responded.
And as she held her brother, she finally understood.
For a moment longer, he was hers.
And with a final smile, she set him free to fly to the distant horizon.
She could never follow.
