A thin line of hot red cuts across the foot of a lavender sky. The shine of a barely waking sun covers the room in a scarlet tint. Witnessing its rise from atop a swirling cloud is the robed Tascheter, visible only as hands and brilliant eyes peeking from the indigo billows of his garment. In his hands rests the infant’s form of pure white. Pyxis snores softly. His eyes wore rings of purple from sleeplessness. It was in Tascheter’s arms that he was most at peace now.
He opened an eye for a peek at his younger brother. The red of the sun illuminated his eyes like fire, and the pale pink strands that always escaped the giant god’s turban wafted as dreamlike clouds. Pyxis struggled to understand the crippling shyness that Tasch had developed, the desire to hide as he did. To him, Tascheter was beautiful. He wanted to remind him of that every day. After the incident at scholar’s birth, it became Pyxis’ duty to ensure that he knew.
Tasch flicked his gaze in time to catch Pyxis’ stare. His look was knowing; Pyxis saw the sheepish grin on the corners of his scarlet eyes. The giant lifted the infant close to his veiled face and removed a bit of the garment. Pyxis pat his cheeks, his puffy eyes looked as if he was going to cry. Instead, the dwarf pressed a tender kiss to the giant’s forehead.
“It’s okay,” Tasch said softly. It had happened so long ago, it was now a non-issue. Pyxis mistook him for a senior star and abandoned him shortly after his birth. It was a simple mistake, one hastily corrected and long forgiven, but Pyxis couldn’t let it go. Tasch soothed him in his place. He nuzzled the child with his nose.
The sun peeked its groggy, red face above the horizon.
