Chapter 33
Notes: Titled "Conclusion" and follows "Caging the Messenger" from Emet-Selch's perspective.

They had barely turned onto the path towards the teleporter when he caught sight of it: a glint of gold off to his right in among the sparse trees. He glanced over not thinking much of it and spotted Venat's familiar at the top of the farthest ridge with what appeared to be another familiar if the ears were anything to go by.

His footfall slowed, realizing the gold had been nothing more than a trick of the light; Venat's familiar was a cream sort of yellow, after all. No, the gold hue had been from that yellow blending with the other familiar's orange aether. A very familiar orange at that.

He had not been aware Azem had a familiar but, then, it wouldn't surprise him if the man did. He barely saw the man as it was and there was no telling what sort of mischief Azem got into when he was away from Amaurot. Though, why Azem would send a familiar to Elpis and not come himself seemed rather odd.

No, what was probably the strangest thing were the flowers at the strange familiar's feet. They were a blend of the darkest purples and blues, though, as he watched, they were slowly fading back to the neutral white he was constantly seeing. He had half a mind to ask one of the researchers about the flowers as this was the first time he had ever seen them change colors. It was also driven by the curiosity of the colors themselves. Was there meaning behind the different shades or was it simply a predetermined trait?

As if suddenly feeling his gaze, the strange familiar looked at him. The expression was closed off and neutral but even from that distance the eyes showed signs of crying. He stopped abruptly, fighting the sudden urge to cross the too large distance between them and scoop up the strange familiar and reassure it. It was a ridiculous notion; there were only a select few souls he would do that for and that strange familiar was not one of them despite the color of its aether. Still, he could not deny the churn of emotions in his chest and gut when the familiar gave a low bow and held it for a long moment, its expression never changing. When it straightened, fresh tears were in its eyes but its face remained dry. Turning, it climbed onto Venat's familiar's back and left.

Hythlodaeus's hand found his arm, holding tight just above the elbow. "Do you think that was the familiar that was asked about?"

"Possibly," he answered, trying desperately to pull something forth from the gap left by Kairos. Irritation flashed through him for the umpteenth time when his efforts came up empty.

"Why didn't he come say goodbye in person?" Emet-Selch pulled his gaze away from where the familiars had been standing to find the pain he had heard twisting Hythlodaeus's expression, the other's free hand clenching at the fabric just beneath his white mask. Hythlodaeus's eyes were full of unshed tears when he finally met Emet-Selch's gaze. "He was saying goodbye, wasn't he?"

His stomach churned at the thought. "It was most likely Azem's familiar. It will show up again later."

"But Azem doesn't have a familiar."

Emet-Selch shook his head, finding himself unwilling to face that thought. The emotions they were both apparently weathering spoke of something more that he just did not have time for, that he couldn't have time for. Not yet, at least. His words were curt as he brushed the matter aside. "Regardless, we do not have time chasing after wayward familiars." He started after the group, pleased to see none had lingered outside of Hythlodaeus. "Come, now."

It would be days before he sought out Hythlodaeus once they had returned to Amaurot.

The busyness of returning to his duties did nothing for the strange hollow that had settled in his chest since they had departed Elpis. It clawed at him, drawing out such a deep sorrow that he found himself inexplicably on the verge of tears without warning far too frequently. He sought out Hythlodaeus because he couldn't bring himself to reach out to anyone else, not when he didn't understand what the feeling even was.

Azem answered the door in Hythlodaeus's stead. Just seeing the shorter threw the very tears Emet-Selch had been avoiding right into his throat and blurred his view of the man before him. The sudden tears shot both frustration and bewilderment through him. "Come on; come in," Azem gently coaxed, tugging at Emet-Selch's wrist until he was fully entered into the space beyond. The door closed behind him. "Hythlodaeus just finished telling me what happened."

Emet-Selch pushed away Azem's attempt to hug him, shaking his head in denial. "Then you can explain what is happening. A few memories lost should not be causing this."

He wasn't sure what to make out of Azem's expression tightening but the pain there made his heart seize, assumptions already flying to the forefront of his mind. "Emet," Azem said carefully but Emet-Selch cut him off sharply, frustrated and exasperated as he spat, "That is Emet-Se-"

He stopped abruptly, his thoughts catching up with his reaction. He didn't- it had been years since he had given up on getting Azem to use his full title so why was he reacting to it now? No one else dared to shorten the title, not even the previous holder of the Azem seat. Only the Azem before him; it had always only been the one before him who ever dared to call him that.

"Hades?" He blinked, his gaze immediately seeking out Azem's at the call of his name. He did not miss the fact that Azem had deliberately used it instead of the nickname.

He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"I'm fine," he replied, shrugging off Azem's touch. He crossed his arms, ignoring how he was using it as a defense mechanism. "What was it you were trying to say before I rudely cut you off?"

"I don't have a familiar."

He blinked. It was like he couldn't quite process what Azem had said. "What?" came out breathy, strained.

Azem met his gaze with the same exact eyes - as orange as the man's soul was - Emet-Selch had briefly seen days prior filled with unshed tears on the face of a familiar he had not recognized. He barely felt Azem take hold of his upper arms. "I don't have a familiar. Whoever you met, whoever that was with Argos, I don't know who they were."

Azem's grip was the only reason he didn't drop like dead weight to the floor.

"Breathe, Hades," Azem urged, the words sounding muffled to Emet-Selch. Vaguely he was aware part of it was because Azem had finally enveloped him in his arms. "Come on. You can do it."

The breath he finally managed to suck in tore at everything. What walls he had managed to erect around the torrent of emotions from that day shattered under its touch, tearing at him as he was suddenly drowning.

It would be hours before he calmed down enough to hear Azem explain that what they were experiencing was grief from a loss, something neither Emet-Selch nor Hythlodaeus had ever experienced so finitely. There had been musings to see if they could track the strange familiar down but things seemed to just get in the way until it was a blip of memory. In the end, the Final Days overrode even those memories and the loss he and Hythlodaeus had felt so keenly was left behind as the world was sundered.