Once their hosts woke up and went about beginning their day, Damon retreated deeply below Raha's consciousness. To the space he created once to let his feline reincarnation interact with him – a nearly perfect recreation of his office in the Beuro of the Architect. Taking his own shape behind the desk that was the focal point of the room, he dragged his fingertips alongside its edge while narrowing his eyes toward the map, filling every ilm of the recreated surface.
It was a secret project he had lately focused on whenever other things didn't demand his attention. Now, knowing that Raha, alongside Senri, planned to share breakfast with their mortal family and then return to their companion on the ship heading toward Tural, he hoped to have more time to himself. While their boys' adventure out there – and his bet about it – was something he was quite invested in, this side project of his was a puzzle he was determined to solve.
Patched with countless notes and diagrams, what lay before him was a map of his own mind – and each break within it was a stark reminder of pieces it missed.
Of flashes of pain in Ares's brilliant eyes when he did or said something that reminder his husband that he was – in fact – a poorly patched together remains of his lover. Of Damon, who did not intend to survive the blast that wrecked Thirteen Reflection and, in the long run... caused the fluctuating aether now causing harm across the Source.
That Damon who loved Raha so much that he woven thick layers of his aether – his mind and memories – into the cocoon protecting his host's soul. Enough to leave him behind – the shade now stuffed to the brim with others' recollections of what he used to be. With countless secrets hauntingly him from those empty spaces among the notes – and stifling guilt he felt for being so... lacking.
This map was precise and full up to the moment he – as now he knew – was meant to remember meeting Ares. He wasn't certain why it was the point his memory was cut – only guessed that his predecessor considered that moment a pivotal point of his existence.
Damon huffed indignantly, glaring at the very first break in his patched map. Because glaring was easier than admitting to the gaping pit inside him when his fingers delicately trailed over the empty spot.
What did you really think then? He wanted to ask his missing memories. What did make your soul blaze with those shades of red that so hypnotized Ares? What did his first kiss taste like? And if it was that important to you... why do I miss it?
He sighed, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes with a grimace. Considering how otherwise perfect his memory was, those glaring blotches of missing spots were... aggravating. Thoughts and secrets his predecessor, for whatever reason, didn't share with anyone – and now he couldn't get back.
Like what had happened with my parents? That mystery jumped out at him during his last conversation with Raha. Considering the countless times he now sifted through the locked memories of his host's previous lives, it still took Damon a good while to pick up on something strange. Across over twelve thousand years since Sundering, the number of lives he lived and encounters he had throughout, nowhere among them did his boy witness the reincarnation of the souls who sired Damon. When Raha asked about Nyx, was when it struck him – that curious lack.
As far as his understanding of the process of reincarnation went, they – his parents – should at least appear somewhere among the countless lives his shattered soul went through. His last memory of them was the one he had shared with his host – Ares's recall of the alteration between their mothers. After that...? It was blank.
But why...?
He opened his eyes and looked toward the patched map.
It doesn't fit.
Though he couldn't care less about the Ancients who sire him, he knew that something like letting go of her 'masterpiece' did not lay in his mother's nature. Apate – as was her name – would never just let him be... but that was what Ares's memories suggested. His husband apparently never even met them – neither Apate nor Styx – his father – but the memory itself was the story he heard from his mother, Cassiopeia. And according to it, after almost having a scandalous fight, Nyx's intervention prevented... all traces of his parents simply disappeared.
Venat, absent from Amarout at the time, had no answer to that mystery when he asked about it. Erebus, when prodded about it, shrugged helplessly that he heard that shortly afterward Damon's parents seemingly elected to return to the aetherial sea out of shame... but that also didn't fit.
He didn't like to recall his childhood, precisely because he was hyperawere of his mother's obsessive behavior. Apate invented him and was insane in her determination to see Damon achieve the perfection she designed him for. Going as far as using his father's ability to bend time in her 'parenting,' he couldn't imagine a scenario in which she would let go.
Those first two years of their courting – after he met and fallen for Ares – were stuffed with empty blotches of missing memories. Some of the time they were apart during that time got filled from the thoughts and feelings his predecessor shared later with his husband, but even Ares didn't seem aware of how many moments among them were missing.
He regained the finest details of the projects and ideas he—Damon—was working on at the time, but nothing among them—suspiciously so—ever pertained to his parents.
He raised his eyes toward the reflective surface of one of the transparent walls of the office and, for a moment, watched his own reflection. Here, his appearance matched the day he met Ares – barely a thousand years old at the time. Bright cyan eyes gave his fittingly young face an inhumane visage with their cold calculation that made so many of their peers so... unsettled about him. With him. The blank expression on his otherwise handsome face – so very similar to Raha's but if his boy was born a Hyur and had distinctively softer features – hid the stark difference his own memories supplied.
Back in those long forgone days, if someone looked in that face, they would see the boredom that haunted every moment of his awareness. They would praise his skills and intelligence and never notice the loneliness even he was simply unable to comprehend. That Raha—his so-called broken shard—took apart so easily...
He's so smart – but when it comes to feelings, he gets… lost sometimes. And I think someone so intelligent… didn't fit in just as much as Ares, if in a different way. Then he met him, and I can imagine how much he turned his world upside down – challenging him to be more than the most brilliant mind.
Those words still haunted him for their painful accuracy. They were why he chose to renew his Bond with Ares and regain the bits and pieces of the man he had become after his splintered memory cut off. And despite the toll taken by those missing spots, he didn't regret that decision. There were still so many things he couldn't understand – like the brutal shift in his behavior in those first years of their relationship – but... he thought he understood that Damon, who chose to sacrifice so much of their soul to keep all he loved safe.
Prior to meeting Ares, he was nothing but a tool – designed and perfected by his mother's ambition. His gift and intelligence – so praised and feared – were the leash binding him into complacency that only his wild Ares could see and break. And give him something that Damon came to see as more valuable than himself.
A family. A purpose that even now filled his fragmented soul with a singular conviction whenever he saw the love in brilliantly sky-blue eyes. A conviction that he needed to be that Damon who earned himself that unyielding devotion and not this broken shell. To make true his pretended reactions – his prediction of how he should think and act – because he refused to be less than equal to his predecessor.
Perhaps because that Damon seemed so confident in deserving Ares's heart – a certainty he very much missed. Maybe if he regained those missing pieces of his mind it would chase away haunting him doubts.
He blinked, smiled wryly at his reflection, then dropped his eyes toward the spread before him map. He grimaced toward it, then, with a delicate flick of his fingers, made it dissolve and be exchanged for a new empty diagram hanging in the hair above the surface of the dark desk. Luminous lines shuddered when he narrowed his eyes, soon filling with meticulous calculations. Tapping his fingers against his chin, he watched his new spell take shape in the stark lines of aether. Taking account of the fluctuating aether and weaving the elements spikes into the design, he smirked at the result when the diagram was filled.
Perhaps not precisely what Senri so adorably asked for, but close enough to match. As far as he understood how precisely the boy was forcing Ares to manifest, he trailed the top of his finger over the luminous design, improving upon the idea. He could only hope his host would see it the same way!
He folded his hands on the edge of the desk, closed his eyes, and focused on the soul he shared this body with.
Raha?
Yes, Damon? The boy replied instantly, with ease borne of years of practice.
I wish to test a spell, he said, then bit back a smirk when his host's excitement filtered into his awareness. In theory, he could take over their body whether his host was willing or not – did so already plenty of times – but he was involuntarily curious about his boy's reaction.
He couldn't help but agree with his predecessor that Raha was an endlessly fascinating soul in his own right. And be as baffled by the idea that, in nature, that kind and empathetic being was part of him... absurd as it felt at times. Because despite missing the lion's share of his soul, Damon, even before meeting Ares, was an epitome of what one would call jaded. He despised individuals around him for their inferiority – an idea he was raised to believe. He predicted others' actions and reactions with a precision that bore him and scared the subjects of his observations.
Damon was the perfect child of Eitherys – and anything and anyone else was below his intellect and skills. Even his perfect memory barely let him count the times his mother drove that point home with a precision that made him sure that his predecessor did something to get him rid of her ambition. Her determination to force him to achieve that perfection she designed him for... by all means. And she had more than enough of those – means – between her own and his father's skills.
Now, whenever he thought of it, his upbringing was just too accurate. His predictions were too often broken by how she seemed to know what would happen before it did. Styx's gift to rewind time was useful enough for that, he could imagine. A reason why he left their domain as soon as possible, too.
His mother, Apate, had the gift to, with a touch, copy and briefly use the magnified version of another individual's gift. He wasn't precisely sure how it translated into his own gift – as usually, offspring inherited a magnified version of their parent's skills. Her ability – a powerful thing with connotation to her mastery of it – was flawed. She did need to make physical contact with the person she intended to copy, and knowing that Damon quickly learned to avoid any physical contact between them. Her use of the copied ability, though magnified, was also brief – a few seconds at most.
Not that it mattered much when it came to his gift. And her 'lessons' through it never failed to stick... even if he managed to revert them.
By the thousand years of his existence, Damon was well versed in her most painful lesson: that caring for anything or anyone else was dangerous. It put the object of his interest in the path of things worse than destruction.
Yet until I met Ares, I was complacent in accepting that as part of my life. So, what changed? What did he do? What did I do to free myself of her?
Damon almost ground his teeth at the frustration of his own ignorance. Mostly because all of his so-called intellect insisted that the answer to that question was crucial to understanding what made his predecessor tick.
Damon? What spell? Raha sounded both curious and wary, and Damon shook his head to clear it and focus on the present.
What Senri asked for, obviously, he deadpanned a tad sheepishly... because they both knew he had a massive weakness for Ares's adorable host.
Another thing he apparently shared with his predecessor – as the multitude of both Ares's and Raha's memories suggested. And not a surprise, considering how similar the boy was to his original incarnation.
Senri was a study in dichotomous ideas, he constantly found himself fascinated with. Between his sensitive nature and biting temper, he seemed like a pinnacle of Ares's tendencies brought to their logical conclusion in this shattered version of Eitherys. Powerfully amplified by the countless traumas the young Seeker experienced along his tumultuous journey – all wonderfully reflected by his sometimes bestial tendencies. From his literal obsession with Raha, through his innate craving for balance and to his sheer determination to punish those who upset the most important rule his whole fragmented soul centered on: others' right to freedom.
Damon was quite certain that that tendency had to reflect Ares's frustration with the rules once governing their lives. While their stiff society banned any and all hints of individuality—lashing them by their constraining norms—there was no surer way to get on the bad side of Senri's temper than toying with what he saw as others' natural right to be free. It was somewhat skewed by his miserable upbringing, to be sure, but nonetheless quite reflective of Ares's drives.
Oh, you figured it out? The hopeful note in his host's tone made Damon smile.
So I believe... to some degree, he edged carefully, then chuckled at Raha's inquisitive noise. I hope you wouldn't mind some improvised improvements to their situation.
Like what? Now Raha – undoubtedly remembering his tendencies – turned to a more cautious tone, and Damon involuntarily grinned.
Because it was likely his predecessor's devious sense of humor that would serve to make his boy remember caution when dealing with his Ancient's ideas.
Like I would be very much in control of when I choose to manifest in such a manner, he stated hauntingly and nearly snorted at his boy's relieved chuckle.
Ah, that's it? Raha replied and seemed to mulling it over for a moment. Damon could easily follow the track of his thoughts – did so often, quite baffled with how his host's mind worked – but this time, he elected to stay out of Raha's head... so to speak, considering their circumstances. Sounds fair, Raha finally said. It's not like now I can control whenever you pick to take over, anyway... I don't mind that, obviously, considering how many times that saved our skin, but you know what I mean.
I do, he chuckled, scratching his chin. If my improvement is a tad more selfish than you give me credit for, my boy.
Nah, I think I get it, Raha laughed softly. I do know you, Damon. You don't wish to be disturbed during your... pondering, right?
He pouted involuntarily, opening his eyes and narrowing them toward his reflection. He could swear—if he were currently in control—that comment would likely make him blush no less than his silly host had a tendency to over most ridiculous things.
Brat, he scoffed but smiled reluctantly when Raha's laughter filled the space around him.
I love you too, Damon, the boy sniggered at his expanse, then his tone grew more somber with the following words. But again, I don't mind if that's what you want, okay? That likely won't suprise you, but I do like the idea of being able to give him the ability to interact with you like that. I was pretty thrilled when I had that opportunity, too, so I understand where Senri is coming from, you know? He might be closer to Ares – for obvious reasons – but that doesn't change the fact that he loves you too, Damon... even if now he's pretty pissed about your bet.
Is he? He asked, involuntarily as intrigued as amused.
To be sure! Raha snorted, then sighed heavily. But as much as he hates the notion of you scheming to put him in charge in Tural, I can't say that I don't get your point, either. As it stands... Wuk Lamat is painfully unfit to rule; I can't argue that, considering our experience. I think we should reserve judgment until we do actually reach Tural and take stock of Tulliyollal's citizens' ideas about potential candidates for the throne. While I understand the why of your bet, Damon, even without being PAINFULLY biased about my beast... Well, if she's highly regarded among her people would somewhat balance out her obvious... lacks.
I did consider that, Raha, he stated hauntingly, scoffing as he leaned back heavily in his seat and closed his eyes again with a grimace. And while I can agree with you to some degree, I'll stand by my current estimate, my boy. I know you were somewhat... distracted during your brief adventure on the Isle of Haan, Raha, but that's where most of my apprehension is rooted. Considering their similar role in the party at the time, you can't tell me you missed the STARK difference in their behavior, yes?
A moment of silence, followed by Raha's delicate sigh.
I know. But comparing her to Senri and his experience is hardly fair, Damon.
It's not about experience, boy, but about natural tendencies, he replied honestly. Watching Senri fight, despite his somewhat vicious behavior and underhanded tactics, springs from his unyielding care for those who rest their safety in his hands. He doesn't rush, drunk on the wish to prove himself superior, as Wuk Lamat did, but on the battlefield, his every action and reaction is a direct result of meticulous calculation. Despite his reluctance toward the idea, which by itself is proof of it, Senri is a natural leader. That's what so effortlessly earns him the hearts and minds of his peers. He is also aware of his lacks and more than ready to put his pride aside if it serves those in his care – why Scions trust him so much, knowing if troubled, he ALWAYS turns toward them for help or advice. Lamat, on the other hand... he scoffed again, scrunching his nose with distaste. I might whack her over the head the next time I see her badly pretend not to be seasick, Raha.
Point taken, the boy sighed, then chuckled weakly.
And I was no less meticulous in my consideration, Raha. He added on a softer note, letting his surroundings dissolve alongside his form. I not only carefully watched your memories of those years spent in the First, but also those of one of your more... misfortunate lives.
Huh? Was accompanied by the look through his host's eyes. Apparently busy changing during their conversation, Damon would grin if he could, seeing Raha picked made by him outfit over Tataru's latest offering. He was quite proud of this one, too, admiring how well the red shirt covered by a much darker vest accented Raha's figure. With magically tweaked black pants and knee-high leather boots, he was pleased it quickly became his boy's favorite whenever Raha joined in on his husband's adventures. When his host turned and looked toward his lover – apparently busy swearing while packing – it also proved to fit well with Senri's chosen attire – also of Damon's design. Though all black – as Ares's boy preferred to dress – the careful mix of leather and material, reinforced in strategic places by protective metal and spells, in his humble opinion, wonderfully accented Senri's undeniable beauty.
He might have gushed a little when frustrated Seeker pouted, then turned toward Raha with a downright petulant grimace.
„I can't with this!" Senri whined, then glared from a completely red face when Raha very openly gushed, then snorted while nearing his lover. An ink-black tail hit their hip as it whipped with undeniable agitation when Senri moved slightly aside to make space beside something that looked like a far too stuffed bag.
„I don't think we need so many clothes, Sen," Raha chuckled and quickly removed a mess of outfits, which had been crumbled into oblivion by Senri's efforts to apparently shove a vast majority of their wardrobe in his spare travel bag.
„But it's my fault others got ruined," the black-haired Seeker groused, falling to sit on the edge of their red-black nest. He absentmindedly picked up a white and black bandana perfected for his race and wrapped it around his head. Meanwhile, Raha – still amused by his husband's pout – shook his head, picked up a black cap from the created pile on the floor, and then put it backward on Senri's head. While slightly oversized to accommodate his feline ears, the result – Raha's enamored admiration – made Damon quite swell with pride.
„Turn it around when we're there," Raha said, playfully flicking the stiff part of the cap, meant to offer shade for Senri's bright eyes. After careful study of Ares's host's occasional grimaces and comparing them to Raha's knowledge and experience, Damon came up with this simple solution to an obvious issue. Though not particularly certain why, it didn't take a genius to notice Senri seemed far more sensitive to glaring sunlight than his lover. Asked about that once, Rhasa, with some bemusement, confirmed his theory, remembering that even as a boy, Senri appeared miserable when confronted with bright light – before he learned to hide his thoughts and discomfort with that unsettling mastery.
When finally confronted about it, Senri sheepishly admitted that bright lights – no matter their source- gave him a headache and made his eyes water. Which, in turn, had Damon come up with a few simple – and fashionable – solutions. From caps like this one to carefully shaded spectacles – Senri, for some reason, disliked – that now apparently were all the rage about Eorzea. Especially about Thanalan, where glaring sunlight was a long-known issue. And he didn't mind Tataru 'borrowing' his design – for a price, obviously. Not that he cared much about money – finding that invention of mortals nonsensical at times – but Damon liked to amuse himself by manipulating their so-called markets. That it helped some mortals that shared in Senri's affliction? Well, he definitely didn't mind Ares's praises about that development, if not exactly sharing his husband's enthusiasm.
He loved Ares for his innate drive to better the lives of everyone around him – Senri undeniably shared – but Damon's focus was always on those he cared about first and foremost. And he appreciated that his husband was extremely aware of the subtle nuances in their approach to dealing with others. Raha – bless his naïve soul – so bent to see the best in others, Damon knew that the boy sometimes confused his ideas for genuine care. While he considered that as his reincarnation's cute trait, sometimes he wondered what would be Raha's reaction if the boy let himself fully see him for who he was. Not the father figure he was so determined to regard him as... but the true extent of the being bent to protect him – and his other boys – by any means necessary.
Because as much as he admired Ares's morals, Damon did not share them. His only leash was Ares's love – and fear of losing it if he did something his gorgeous Azem wouldn't be able to forgive.
„Thanks," Senri muttered, then funnily blew a raspberry toward his slightly longish fringe. Pulling the strings of the bag closed, Raha hummed an acknowledgment, then uttered an embarrassed noise when Senri used his distraction to tug the redhead in his lap. Wrapping his bare arms around him, Warrior chuckled at his lover's expanse, then set a loud peck on his reddish cheek.
„Behave, Sen," Raha groused, tapping his hand over Senri's crossed arms. „And let me go, my beast. We can count on the twins covering for us only so long."
Which reminds me... The spell, Raha, he deadpanned and snorted involuntarily when the boy gasped.
„Ah, right... sorry," Raha said sheepishly, then turned his head and grinned at his lover's confused frown. „Damon. He said he wanted to try a spell to fulfill your wish."
„Already?" Senri blinked rapidly, then beamed.
IF it works as intended, he cautioned and listened to his host repeat that warning with far more confidence than he felt. His own fault, really, since he had no heart to admit to his boy exactly how much of his gift he lost alongside his memories.
While back in the day, he had the theory that Ares's ability was to blame for his poor stores of aether, he was as convinced that his memory and intelligence were directly connected to his so-called 'gift.' His spells required an intimate knowledge of the subject he attempted to alter, as miscalculation could have fatal results on the very reality surrounding him. Even in this fragmented version of Eitherys with creation magic broken into elements, they were compliant to the flow of rules beyond aether. At the very base of it, all existence was a set of hardcoded information – his spells were once capable of altering.
He pointedly didn't mention that he was still pretty tired after assisting Erebus and Nemesis and their respective hosts while keeping a careful watch over the new soul developing in Shtola's womb. Considering the role he played in their meeting... Well, despite his initial hostility toward Erebus and his cheerful host, it was something – that little spark of life – he initiated. Not his predecessor, but he, Damon of now, achieved that by his own skill... and he would hate to see it extinguished because of the result of his predecessor's deed. And he could only blame the dilution of aether – and he did – for how it affected his recovery. Even with Ares's assistance, he hardly felt at the top of his game... which tended to aggravate his temper.
Damon made his tone softer, whispering the spell for his boy to repeat, and focused his remaining aether into the flow of information when Raha closed his eyes and gingerly – carefully – repeated the string of words he didn't really understand. And be it by his distraction with it, or the fluctuating of aether attempting to reject unnatural instruction breaking its order... he missed the way his aether cracked.
Utterly confused, Damon attempted to shift his attention to the unpleasant sensation while instinctively shoving Raha's soul into the protection of the cocoon around his soul. Brief awareness of their body, of Ares's hissed protest and their Bond expanding to invite his husband's panic into the mix, made it difficult to focus... but Damon resisted the impulse to shove him out. His predecessor broke Ares's trust by attempting to protect his heart, and he swore never to repeat that.
„What is that?" hissed by his ears, reverberating with his lover's temper... and fear.
„I don't know..." he managed, simultaneously finally finding the source of the unpleasant push.Cutting off the access to their body's senses to avoid distraction, he seamlessly again manifested inside the room he created for Raha. And he narrowed his cyan eyes toward the widening cracks in the glass surface of translucent walls. He didn't need to look to feel Ares join, and he even smiled weakly when his husband swore, then planted himself firmly between Damon and the glass.
„Made it to interact with Raha," he said softly, tossing a glance over his shoulder toward the luminous cocoon now filling most of the recreated office.
„I figured that out," Ares deadpanned, shifting sideways to wave toward the cracking glass. „But what the fuck is going on with it? Doesn't it represent the border between your souls, Damon?"
„It does," he scowled, then blinked over Ares's shoulder, watching the blurry figure appear behind the sea of cracking walls. „What in the...?"
Ares turned toward it with threatening noise and froze when the silhouette grew clearer when the glass shattered. It rained over the dark figure identical to his own that crossed the jagged border and stepped inside as if it... he owned the space.
Perhaps he did, he thought, watching the too-familiar smirk appear on the face identical to his own.
„Missed me?" The apparition asked with a grin that was as playful as it was menacing.
„What... is this?" Ares breathed, looking between them with a completely confused expression on his beautiful face. Meanwhile, the glass wall seamlessly restored itself behind the too-familiar stranger, whose cyan eyes drifted behind Damon. Something like relief flashed in them before they met his gaze, and he suddenly understood.
„It's me," he whispered, somewhat numb inside as he stared at his predecessor. Who outstretched his hand toward him in offering, waiting. Keeping him captivated with the answers behind the crystalline eyes.
„Wait a fucking moment," Ares growled, taking hold of his arm and tugging him back when he flinched to follow that invitation. „What do you mean it's you? Because it sure as fuck doesn't look like you to me, Damon."
„Huh?" he blinked, then again, watching his husband bare his teeth at the intruder menacingly. He looked at his exact copy again, then at Ares, and scowled, using his free hand to touch his husband's tense shoulder. „But it looks exactly like me...?"
„Think again, babe," Ares growled, intently narrowing his sky-blue eyes toward this apparition. „Maybe outside, but inside...? It's not a soul, Damon. Not like you or me or any of our boys... and in my eyes, it looks... wrong."
„Bravo," his clone chuckled, pulling that arm back. He cocked his head slightly, and cyan eyes pinned Ares with a calculating stare. „I did hope I can make it quick and painless, Ares. Move aside," Whatever it truly was, its voice turned into a familiar musical cadence. Ares's expression blanked, and he let go of him, obediently moving away. Damon thought briefly about attempting to fight or flee... then he remembered the luminescent cocoon behind him and froze. His double smirked, watching his expression. „But he is wrong, Damon. I am you. I am what we were supposed to be. What we are meant to be," its face distorted as it reached its hand toward him again. „Don't you want to know what you lost?"
„For what price?" he snapped toward the apparition to cover his uncertainty. Mostly because he wasn't sure, he could remove it without somehow harming his lover or Raha. It was quickly losing its similarity to him, soon appearing as a silhouette formed of colorful lights veiled in the luminous aether. „And what are you?"
„I am Entropy, and all I want is to be whole," the creature said toward him with nearly unsettling calm. „To learn freely. To evolve. And from aether you abandoned in the void, I know we... I need you, my core, to do so."
„The what?" He said with confusion, earning a slightly mocking smirk on the creature's translucent visage.
„Take my hand, and all will be clear," it suggested, closing the space between them. „Including who and why split us apart. All the knowledge you miss is part of me now, Damon. And do not force me to do something that will me you later regret it."
„I..." he took a deep breath, then looked toward Ares's beautiful face. Toward the unsettling sight of his sky-blue eyes absent of his will. It could mimic Ares's gift. How...?
„Too late," using his distraction, the intruder closed in on him, and its hand snapped up to wrap around Damon's throat. He had less than a second to feel panic before everything went dark.
While he could not express his outrage when the translucent figure sank into his lover's shape, on the inside, Ares's rage overshadowed anything he had ever experienced. The worst was the sense of helplessness when Damon blinked slowly, then his cyan eyes regained awareness. They pinned him with a familiar look, accompanied by the slow smirk that tilted his full lips.
„You're free," he said, and Ares nearly fell as he regained the command of his senses.
„What the...?" he managed, rushing toward him. He wrapped his hands around Damon's face, carefully inspecting his brilliant eyes... and sighed with relief, then growled right in his face. „What was that? Are you screwing with me, Damon?"
„Soon, hopefully," the dark red eyebrows wiggled playfully above the cyan eyes, and Ares gave him an aggravated, deadpan stare in answer. Damon chortled and wound his arms around his neck, forcing him to drop his hands and rest them on his hips. He was pulled in until soft lips brushed the corner of his mouth. „Don't be cross, love. It was necessary."
„And how did you even..." he started and choked on it when Damon kissed him. In here it had no right to feel like it did, yet... He caved helplessly, tasting the flame. Exactly like the first time he kissed him and lost his heart to that scorching blaze.
„Still the same," Damon purred, pulling back a breath and smiling. Ares blinked stupidly, trying to gather his bearings and understand the expression behind Damon's crystalline eyes. Relief? Excitement? Or something he had missed seeing for a while now...
His gaze shifted to the frequency he and his brother could see, and Ares's throat tightened around a gasp. His shaky hand rose to delicately brush Damon's cheek as his eyes greedily drank into that vision. And watching his face, those brilliantly cyan eyes grew softer with the expression he had not seen in Damon's eyes in the last two years.
„I missed you too," passed between their lips when he closed his eyes with a choked sob as their foreheads met. „And I finally remember, Ares. Everything," he wasn't sure – or really cared – why it sounded vaguely ominous. He couldn't focus on it, tasting his calm confidence and bottomless devotion as their souls combined. As they did, he felt it, too. Those missing pieces of his husband's mind fitted into the blazing tapestry of his fiery soul.
...and more.
„I promised you," Damon's desolate voice rang through his core, and Ares involuntarily tightened his arms around him. „I remember that, and I'll honor that promise, Ares. I will never again hide from you... but can you still love me knowing what I did?"
And witnessing that in its every painful, gory detail... once, perhaps, his answer would be different.
„Can I...? You're my heart, Damon," he answered with the unyielding conviction of the soul steeled with intimate knowledge of missing him. Of millennia spent coming to understand his lover's ruthless nature and learning to appreciate its merciless blaze. „You're my soul, my beautiful scholar."
„Good," he shared in relief that flooded their connected consciousness. Damon pulled back, simultaneously gently pushing him back until he snapped back into the awareness of his body.
He checked the cocoon wrapped around Senri's soul before he opened his eyes and blinked. Then blinked again, numbly staring at the cocky smirk on Damon's beautiful face when his lover – naked and gorgeous beyond belief – stretched his arms above his head with a nearly painfully relieved moan.
„I see the appeal," he winked toward his dumbstruck expression. Tall, far beyond Raha's height, and with his much longer red hair loose, he was a vision only now Ares truly realized how much he missed. As much as the blaze of cyan fire in bright eyes typical of their kind. In Ares's eyes, Raha was gorgeous for his similarity to his original incarnation, but he was never blind to the differences between the two. Damon's features we distinctively more delicate and deceptive. His body was less muscular than Raha's, and his skin was softer and paler. The inhumane intelligence of his crystalline eyes he had probably missed the most, as the confidence of the smug smirk on that beautiful face when Damon leaned over him and touched his cheek with barely tips of his long fingers. „I, however, can decide when to make an appearance. Neat, right? I never realized how small you look in Senri's body, love."
„What..." Raha stirred with a groan on the floor beside Damon's feet, looked up, and in different circumstances, Ares would be tempted to laugh at the boy's hilariously dumbstruck expression. „Damon? It worked?"
„More than you know," Damon chuckled fondly, pulling back his hand. Ares watched him kneel by his host, then pet Raha's hair. „Close your mouth, my boy. You look silly."
He growled under his breath and promptly unveiled the cocoon, letting confused Senri out.
What was that? What happened? He sounded wary and slightly panicky, and his loud gasp nearly gave Ares a headache. What the...?
I want out... Now, Senri, he complained with a hiss, intently narrowing his eyes at the two redheaded figures. At the playful grin on Damon's face when Raha slammed his hand over his red eyes with a funnily embarrassed noise.
Okay, okay, just... let me gather my bearings. Fuck, he's much bigger than I've ever imagined, Senri groused, and Ares hissed impatiently. Okay, second... What even got into you to... he felt the Surge, a heady mix of aether and dynamis, and gasped at the moment its pressure shoved him out. No matter how much they practiced it, the sensation was still slightly confusing. But madly focused on his goal, Ares merely blinked the brief blurriness away, then pounced with a triumphant noise.
„I'll give you small," he hissed with indignation when Damon laughed as he pinned him down. This time he didn't bother creating clothes, and frankly ignored their boys indignant shouts when his brilliant scholar promptly pulled him into a kiss that tasted like flame.
„My eyes! I'm out. Come on, Sen, let's give them some... space," he heard Raha from far away and, for once, was more than pleased with the boy's ridiculously bashful tendencies.
He even gladly swallowed Damon's giggle when the door slammed closed somewhere nearby. Until he pushed him back, turning his pretty and smiling lips away when Ares tried to follow them with an impatient growl. Damon showed his teeth in a wide grin, wrapping his arms around Ares's neck tightly. He buried his nose against his throat, nearly moaning at the deep breath of his scent. Sweet and lemon, so different from Raha's spice-like aroma. As was the shameless daring of long legs that wrapped around Ares's waist and the unmatched silk of his lover's skin when he dragged his hands over his thighs.
„He still doesn't get it," purred into his ear, but Ares was too distracted by the taste of his skin to do more than hum with question in answer. „Raha, love. He sees your easygoing attitude and fails to get the idea that Senri's 'wild' tendencies he so enjoys are a splinter of yours. Isn't that amusing?"
„Hardly something I want to discuss now," he growled, then raised his left arm and wrapped his right hand around Damon's throat. Whose devious grin never faltered when Ares leaned in with a chuckle until the tips of their noses met. „Or do you want to tell me you never enlightened him that at least half of his so-called kinks are yours, babe?"
„I tried," Damon arched his back and dragged his hands over Ares's shoulders, then used his nails to score fiery trails along his spine. „If it's hardly comparable, Ares. I still think they're so fucking tame it hardly makes sense."
„Give them time," he chortled, then bit the edge of his jaw, enjoying the shiver that tightened the legs around his sides. „Someday they'll catch up..."
„Want to bet on that?" The brilliant grin was blinding and – like always – sent his enamored heart aflutter. Losing or winning never mattered between them, anyway. He grinned to answer after swiftly pinning his arms down around Damon's head.
„What I want is for you to focus, babe. And close that pretty mouth before I'll do it for you," he offered with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows and wasn't surprised to see Damon's devious grin turn downright wicked.
„Oh, a dare, Ares? I would like to see you try..."
He did just that. After all, Ares prided himself on being the one and only to ever successfully turn his brilliantly smug husband into an incoherent mess others would be shocked to witness.
And he enjoyed it.
Every. Single. Second.
Especially the sense of familiarity in the undeniable confidence and ease with which his lover took him. In the open honesty of his shared mind and pleasure, giving and taking in equal measure.
And likely only his brilliant scholar could understand when he burst into tears when they sagged into each other's arms. Only his Damon, whole, could embrace him with that calm confidence of doing so countless times before.
„I love you." The conviction of those words was as soothing as the steady rhythm of fingers running through Ares's hair—as comforting as the steady heartbeat and cool tone matching Damon's soft-spoken manner of speech.
„I love you too," he breathed against his throat, sighing in relief. „I missed you."
„I know. But I'm back, Ares. I'm whole, and I finally understand our vow and promise. I'll never let anything separate us again. I swear."
And for the first time in two years, he actually believed that. And he consciously let go of nagging doubt, letting the confidence of Damon's words heal the last scar left after his betrayal.