#romantic.phainon

Lady Aglaea didn't tend to keep many flesh and blood attendants. Mostly she relied on her garmentmakers for assistance. To Aglaea, the automatons were more reliable than any human whose heart could be swayed as easily as pulling on a thread.

Which is why it was especially odd to see the girl at her side. She held a teleslate in her hands, taking notes for lady Aglaea as they walked through the open air courtyard. The Flame Reaver was too far to hear their conversation, but it was clear the girl worked for her. An assistant of some sort. Judging by the bag at the girl's side that had bolts of fabric poking out the top, she must be involved in the weaver's garment business.

If Aglaea trusted her, that was significant. So why hadn't he ever seen her before? From his vantage point, he studied her face. Bright, innocent features framed by fluffy, somewhat mused hair; he thought for sure he would recognize a face like hers.

But, there was no recollection. None at all.

It was odd, but ultimately of little consequence. Aglaea finding an assistant didn't change much. If anything, for the girl's sake, he had enough decency left in him to hope she wouldn't find herself caught up in the troubles of the chrysos heirs because of this.

He was ready to write the girl off as a minor anomaly, until he saw her again.

This time, she wasn't with Aglaea, she was with Tribbie, Trinnon, Trianne, and Castorice. The group was having just a casual conversation over some tea in the Garden of Life. It was different from seeing her with Aglaea in what could be viewed as nothing more than a transactional business association. It was clear that she was familiar with the chrysos heirs before her. In fact, they were all comfortable with one another as far as the Flame Reaver could tell.

This was even stranger, and it only became more so.

He witnessed her again, shopping with Hyacinth in the Marmoreal market.

Again, with Mydei as he helped her carry a stack of fabrics back to the workshop.

With professor Anaxa, on a visit to the Grove of Epiphany discussing a new book.

With Cipher, the girl lightly scolding the thief for a prank she pulled.

And even with himself. Or, rather, this cycle's version of himself.

The girl excitedly gestured for Phainon to hurry up and join her as they arrived at the garden in front of the chimera cultivation device. Young chimeras stumbled about, exploring their surroundings. The Flame Reaver was closer than he normally would've observed from, and he could hear her bright laughter as one of the chimeras came up to her legs. Phainon joined her on the grass, chimeras of various colors and patterns coming up to the pair and vying for their attention.

It was so easy, the way the two of them spoke. He could tell immediately that they were very familiar with each other. The girl had no issue reaching over and pinching Phainon's cheek when he said something silly, and he made no effort to remove her hand.

It was in this interaction that he first heard the girl's name from Phainon's lips.

Venus.

After all these instances, the Flame Reaver wasn't sure what to think.

Plenty of things have changed between cycles. It was rare that two of them would be exactly the same, and some were drastically different from each other. But he had never seen an entirely new person ingrained themselves into the going ons of the chrysos heirs like this.

It wasn't just a passing familiarity, she was a close companion to many of the chrysos heirs. They knew her well, greeted her warmly and welcomed her into conversation whenever they saw her, and she did the same.

It didn't make sense. What possibly could have changed in this cycle that brought this about?

It still didn't matter, not in the broader sense, he thought. He could ponder the nature of this anomaly for the rest of the cycle, but as long as she wasn't an obstacle to his goal, it didn't matter.

Venus wasn't a chrysos heir, she could not obtain a core flame, so he had no reason to pay her any mind.

But still, something within him was stirred.

It would have been so simple to not spare Venus another glance. However, because she had found herself so intertwined with the chrysos heirs, it seemed she could not avoid the troubles that followed them.

She was not a fighter, that much was obvious, but Venus was apparently stupidly brave enough to try and stand in his way. He barely gave it a thought when he cut her down to clear his path.

Her blood was warm and red unlike the molten gold of the heirs, further proof that there was no need for her to have involved herself in this matter. With a sharp flick of his hand, it splattered off of his blade in the same instance that she hit the ground.

The large slash across the length of her chest was deep, there would be no healing it; she was already no longer moving, anyway.

The Flame Reaver made to turn away from the scene, but an agonized screech halted him, just briefly.

It was a yell of the girl's name. Venus, said with such pain and sorrow the Flame Reaver was surprised it could have come from a human throat. Let alone his own.

Not the current him, though. It came from the Phainon of this cycle.

He watched as Phainon ran to Venus's side, falling to his knees in the pool of her still warm blood. He grabbed her, bundling her into his arms and desperately repeating her name. He begged her to look at him, to respond. She didn't.

And it was seeing Phainom's agony and the tears streaming down his face that the Flame Reaver understood the nature of their relationship for the first time.

She was friends with the chrysos heirs. To Phainon, though, she was his lover.

A bolt of surprise shot through the Flame Reaver's chest. Every version of Phainon throughout millions of cycles had remained single. He knew from all their assimilated memories that the weight of his duty hung too heavy to burden anyone else with. How could he be so selfish as to ask someone to share a life such as his? Beyond that, even if he has had fleeting crushes here or there, no one had captivated him enough to really form a relationship with them.

What had been so different about Venus?

This girl, who had appeared out of nowhere, had somehow managed to steal the heart of this cycle's Phainon.

Things changed between cycles, but the Flame Reaver had never seen an anomaly quite like this. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Before Phainon could redirect his feelings towards the Flame Reaver and move to attack, he had already left. The Flame Reaver vanished in a swirl of darkness, leaving only the broken heart of his alternate self behind.

The mystery did not affect the rest of his mission. Era Nova arrived, and with it the beginning of the next cycle.

In the golden wheat field, standing on the docks of the shimmering waters of his hometown, the memories of countless cycles flooded into Phainon's mind following the Flame Reaver's defeat.

He knew then what millions upon millions of different versions of himself had done, the price they'd paid to keep the experiment that was Amphoreus from reaching its fruition and the choices they'd made. He knew the blood on his hands, and he knew he would have to do it again.

But what stung the most, what brought his hands to clutch at his chest and his breath to catch and sputter in his lungs was not the blood that had stained his blade many times already. It was the blood that he had spilled for the first time this last cycle.

The pain of failing to protect Venus was fresh on his mind. He carried that weight with him to era nova, the final spark in his eyes vanishing as fast as she had bled out on those stones. That memory was now joined with the Flame Reaver's, and he could recall in vivid detail how little strength it had required to sever her flesh as if it were paper.

It was him. Perhaps a different version of himself, but it was his hands that had sliced her so uncaringly. He had done that to her. He no longer deserved to call himself her lover. Amidst the storm of memories all fighting to find their place within Phainon's body, the scorching pain of all the accumulated core flames within him burning him from the inside out, the agony of what he had done to her was at the center of it all.

It wasn't until he began on the path of the next cycle that he was able to stop and ponder the strangeness of it all again.

He hadn't understood how Venus had found herself among the chrysos heirs previously, but now with the memories of his life as Phainon during that cycle he saw more of the bigger picture.

He remembered the day he first heard the triplets telling him about the stranger who'd just arrived at the Marmoreal palace. Apparently, they'd found a girl on the outskirts of the city with no memory of who she was or where she'd come from. According to the three of them, they'd taken the girl, who could only introduce herself as Venus, to lady Aglaea. As they spoke, the gold weaver was assessing this stranger to determine if she were trustworthy or not.

Phainon had been intrigued right away. He wanted to know more of her story. If he went to the palace right now, maybe he could catch a glimpse of her face and unravel some of the mystery?

It took some waiting, lady Aglaea seemed to be taking her time in assessing her, but finally he saw them emerge from the corner of his eye.

It was so vivid in his mind, even now. The sound of gently swaying water from the baths surrounding them, echoing off the grand marble walls. A faint, floral scent wafted through the air along with the dull sound of chatter. Venus walked a step behind Aglaea. She seemed nervous, which was understandable if her story about having no memories was to be believed. Despite that, though, when he offered her a gentle smile she replied in kind with her own. The slight tug of her lips lit up her weary face.

Aglaea informed him that she would be acting as her assistant for a while. She made no secret this was largely so she could continue to monitor Venus. Her investigation had been enough to show Agalaea that she wasn't an immediate danger to them, but that didn't mean she trusted her entirely yet.

Aglaea asked Phainon to be kind to their guest while she was here and it was easy to agree. He would look out for this newcomer the same way he did every other citizen.

He didn't really understand the way his stomach fluttered when Aglaea followed up that request with another: to show her around the city. Again, Phainon readily agreed. It was the perfect opportunity he'd been looking for to get to know this stranger.

And when they were alone for the first time, he offered her his arm as any gentleman would, and thought about how nicely her arm fit with his. It was almost like a puzzle finally finding its matching piece.

If he had known back then that asking for her hand would lead her down the path to his blade, would he still have offered it?

He can't say for sure at this point.

It doesn't matter anymore, though. The cycle had been reset, and if it took over 33 million chances for her to make a single appearance in his life then he doubted he would see her again twice in a row. It was unlikely he would ever unravel the mystery that was Venus.

He chose then, at the beginning once again, to take her from his heart and lock those feelings away. They wouldn't do him any good on his journey.

And he did well in that resolve, as he always had on this road he's taken. He followed the familiar path of time of a thousand years, back to the Okhema he knew. He truly, truly, did not expect to see the shimmer of her pink hair flowing in the wind, nor the glimmer of her curious eyes ever again.

Which is why his breath caught in his chest as the second time he saw Venus he was struck by surprise.

It didn't make sense. Again, she was there, side by side with the chrysos heirs as if it were only natural she be there. Only the Flame Reaver knew how strange this was.

33 million cycles and not a trace, but suddenly twice in a row she had carved a place for herself amongst them?

33 million cycles, and twice she managed to fall into his arms.

The Flame Reaver paid closer attention this time, and he saw the embraces Phainon and Venus shared in private. He was in love with her again, that much was obvious. This time, the Flame Reaver had more of the necessary context to truly see that, having the memories of being in love with her himself. It was the one part of this that wasn't a surprise.

Something stirred in his hollow chest each time he got a glimpse of Venus, especially so when she was with Phainon.

He was struck by a thought, suddenly. What would he do if he, as he was now, were to meet her again?

Begging for forgiveness was useless. He had struck down his former comrades countless times already, he knew asking for that would be a useless task. So then what was he to do in this situation?

The answer came to him soon enough.

This time, she wasn't being foolishly brave as before. The Flame Reaver, in his chase of the core flames, had simply happened to catch her all alone. He saw the fear in her eyes when she was cornered, her body tense with uncertainty.

He only hesitated until she tried to run, that's when his body instinctively lunged forward. They both toppled to the ground, him pinning her against a wall. She did try and fight against him, thrashing and clawing at him, but she had never been stronger than him. Especially not as he was now.

But still, even with her in his grasp, he didn't know what to do with her. He could release her, let her run away back into the arms of this cycle's Phainon. He could hold her safely until the cycle reset again.

Or.

Era Nova was brutal. He had already seen the pain in her eyes when he had struck down Aglaea and Mydeimos, Cipher and Tribios. She was a tender hearted girl, he had once cherished that about her.

Even now, ruined as he was, he did not want to cause her suffering.

His armored hand caressed her cheek, her warmth seeping into his cold, tainted body.

She didn't need to be party to his slaughter.

Slowly, he reached for his mask.

Venus could only watch, confused, as he removed it. The Flame Reaver could see every emotion she experienced rush across her face. The confusion, the horror, the betrayal.

“It's you? I- I don't understand. How… why…?” She stammered.

The Flame Reaver didn't answer her questions. He bent forward, pressing his cracked lips to her soft ones. She did not kiss him back, but she didn't fight it either. He could only assume she was too wrapped up in her surprise to do much of anything.

When he pulled back, he was decisive with the hand that followed. His blade plunged directly into her heart, he made sure of that. He didn't want her to suffer.

It was the second time he held her as her blood pooled on the stone around them.

Though, he couldn't linger. His other self was already looking for her. He heard the rapid footsteps behind him as Phainon rounded a corner, and this time the sound he made was already familiar to him.

Without turning, without revealing his face, the Flame Reaver put his mask back in its place and vanished.

The third time he saw Venus, he was resolved.

Now that he had seen her twice, he knew it would not be entirely unexpected to find her a third time in the new cycle. If it were possible for such anomalies to enter the equation, it may be helpful for him to learn more information. However, that was a difficult task.

In both cycles, she had no memory of her own past. Because of that, it was hard to track down any of her ancestry to attempt to learn more. He did pay closer attention this time throughout the centuries, trying to find anyone who bore some type of resemblance to her.

He did sometimes meet people who shared a feature or two, but it was not enough to suggest any type of relation. No one felt like the Venus he was familiar with.

Despite his failure, she did appear just as mysteriously as the times before.

And as he had done twice before, he showed her the only mercy he was capable of.

The fourth time he saw her was… strange.

Finding her had become a pattern, something he was starting to expect at this point. Again, he had tried to find any information he was able to on her, but it seemed as if she would only appear from thin air with no past to follow.

And, admittedly, he was expecting to see her with his alternate self as she had been the previous three times. So it was a little disconcerting to see her reach not for Phainon's hand, but Mydei's.

The first time he saw that, he felt something twist within him.

She clung to Mydei's arm like she had his, gazed at him with a look of love that should have belonged to Phainon.

The Flame Reaver realized he was still capable of an emotion he thought he had lost long ago. A distant sense of jealousy, dull and dusty from lack of use, emerged from his core. His jaw creaked when he clenched his teeth.

Judging by the bittersweet expressions Phainon would give Venus whenever her eyes weren't on him, this wasn't something that occurred because of a lack of feelings from him. What had that fool done to lose her? To Mydei of all people, at that.

The Flame Reaver stopped in his tracks. Why did it even matter, really? This was merely one cycle of over 33 million. All the times he has seen her have only been grains of sand in the desert he was lost in. The love they shared was only fleeting, as was any other feeling he once had. This irrational jealousy was useless and it too would soon fade.

He granted her mercy before slaying Mydei. She had been so sad before when Mydei had fallen to him in a time when she did not have a relationship with him, it would only upset her deeper this time. And it was always in his plans to take the coreflame of strife from Mydei, this cycle was no different from the ones before it.

The additional times he pierced Mydei's chest may have been unnecessary this time.

The fifth time he saw Venus, he scolded himself for the sense of relief he felt when she kissed Phainon, not anyone else. It felt right in a way it should not have.

The sixth time, there was the first inkling of irritation he had felt in a while. Not rage, as that feeling always simmered deep in his chest beneath the cold numbness that spread through him. No, this was just true annoyance.

In the Grove of Epiphany, he was made to watch Venus perch on the lap of his own professor, Anaxa.

That moron. He felt a similar desire as he had in the fourth cycle with Venus, the urge to shake this cycle's Phainon and demand to know what he had done wrong to fumble as he had.

The blasphemous scholar wasn't often a target of the Flame Reaver's blade. Not out of any purposeful act to spare him, he simply almost always caused his own undoing. The Flame Reaver made sure to dispatch him himself this cycle.

He decided the seventh time he saw Venus that she was dangerous. Something about her stirred feelings he thought he lost lifetimes ago within him again. But those feelings would only hinder him. The only way he could endure what must be done was to not fall prey to his emotions. If he dared to regret, if he dared to falter, then he would fail and everything he had suffered and sacrificed for would be over.

But without knowing where Venus came from, there was nothing he could do to prevent her from entering his life cycle after cycle. Each time, new feelings stirred, the memories of her so fresh in his mind and beginning to overlap.

It was undeniable that she was a threat to everything holding him together, and yet he held his breath with each new cycle until he saw her again.

He couldn't stop each new Phainon from loving her. All the Flame Reaver could do was carry on as he carried the weight her blood added to his blade each time it soaked the metal alongside all the others.