Caius never felt guilty about his choices. He did it once — he would do it again. For Yeul, he would do anything.
For the innocent, gentle seeress he killed a goddess.
He wanted to do it again. Earlier. To have Yeul by his side, one more time. Just once more, so he could give her a real life.
For the sweet seeress that loved flowers, he died.
And he would die again and again, for that was his job and what he lived for. He swore himself for her, and she was his one duty — and the one duty he held dear.
For the laughing seeress that sang him songs till nightfall, he cried.
He also cried for every other death of hers, for every body he had to lay in the sea of forgetfulness. He cried silent tears, cried dry tears, cried anger and hatred. He cried for the desire of revenge.
For the seeress that skipped by his side and asked to see new places, to travel to new worlds, he sang a song.
He never sang — he wasn't a good singer. But he sang for her, and he sang for other Yeuls, as well. He sang to their death, a simple melody he heard long ago before he first met her. He sang the requiem, a hand in her hair, before letting the body go with the waves.
For the seeress that braided his hair while talking constantly, he learned how to braid.
He braid her hair as well, colorful flowers among her strands. He struggled, as his hands were made to kill, not to do hair. He also felt proud, seeing her smiling broadly up at him, thanking him in the way only her could do.
For the seeress that curled in his lap, fast asleep, he learned how to call her by the name.
She was Yeul — not his mistress, not the Seeress. She was Yeul.
And for Yeul — the same Yeul that always appeared at the end of her every life, the Yeul who reached up and soothed a hand against his cheek, he learned how to love.
He never said it out loud — she never said it, either. Either way, he knew they loved each other. Knew that he was the only one to whom she ever smiled like that, the only one to see her cry. And she knew she was the only one he would ever keep living for, even if he wanted to die.
He would grant her every wish, if he could. He would die, live, kill. He would protect her, he would buy her more time. He would kill any god or goddess, if that meant she would finally have a chance at living beyond her 17th birthday.
And if they never kissed — well. There was not one single type of love. One day, maybe, she would meet someone else. Someone she would be relaxed enough to show her smiles. Someone for whom she would sing one more time. Someone who would show her flowers and braid them into her hair. Someone who would sleep by her side, someone who wouldn't have to lay her to death.
He would keep loving her, of course. But he knew that day would come.
He knew that day had come.
In the end, the seeress wasn't fated to be with her guardian. Instead, he knew Yeul would always long for the one guardian that never was.
But until then, he would be by her side, loving her, giving her anything she wanted.
Even if it was at the cost of himself.