His traveling companion was frighteningly quiet as they made their way from the Ether’s Gate over the ridge. Metir had gone by boat directly to The Southern Basin to make his accounts, while Solis and Iphis continued west. For the most part, The Mortal Realm looked the same; trees were still trees, the sky was still blue, and the sights and sounds were painfully familiar. What was different, was having a stranger by his side.

Iphis did not care to stop and look at flowers like Solis did. He didn’t even look up at the double rainbow as they grew nearer to Godsarm Lake. Solis didn’t know if the man was just very focused on their mission, wholly unfriendly, or bitter that he’d been stuck with Solis in a job that was very clearly meant for someone beneath his rank. Aeris’ most powerful and trusted Seraph, and he was relegated to babysitter and spy. Solis would feel upset too.

He tried to keep that in mind as they continued on in silence, and while the god pondered the potential lineage and history of the man beside him, he also thought forlornly of the last time he was here. It was hard to suppress those flashes of memory when everywhere he looked, something reminded him of that time.

“I missed this place.” Solis said to no one, but what he meant was; I missed how I felt when I was here. When I was with him…

Iphis didn’t say anything, and the god began to wonder how much he had been told of Solis’ past. It seemed they were both wary of each other. It didn’t bode well, if Solis was meant to be working here alongside him.

When at last they came to a large town on the coast, Iphis led Solis through the bustling streets of the market and straight up to a narrow building with a sign labeled Inn. Solis realized he was both dreading and anticipating getting a chance to look around, but it seemed the Seraph was under strict orders to arrange their accommodations promptly and forthwith.

The innkeeper gawked at them for a second too long, and Solis momentarily panicked, thinking he’d done something stupid like descend in his heavenly body. No, it was the scowl on Iphis’ face. It opened doors and apparently also people’s mouths. They rented two rooms for a month, but Solis overheard him asking the innkeeper where they could find a more permanent residence. Solis gulped. This was… he was really stuck here, wasn’t he?

Ah, well. As much as he would miss Prentis and Ruewreath’s comfort, there wasn’t anything too terrible about doing his work from among the people. Whatever intentions Aeris had by sending him here, he was right when he’d said the mortals were making big strides. Solis could feel the tension, the rhythm of the universe coiling taught. It was going to be a generation of discovery, and it would be glorious if Solis had anything to do with it.

Everything would be fine as long as he didn’t make any enemies. As Solis climbed the stairs to his new room, he nervously glanced at Iphis’ back. What could he say to encourage his new friend/watchdog that he wasn’t going to be any trouble for him? Solis tried to plaster a smile on his face but it probably looked a little constipated.

“Just so you know, I-”

The door slammed right in his face.

Solis sighed, glowering all the way across the hall. His room was extremely cramped and modest. There was a bed, one pillow, and a dresser that was more like a box without its lid. He couldn’t go anywhere, he couldn’t go back. As much as he despised it, it appeared he would have to go forward.

Solis sat on the bed and crossed his legs, closing his eyes and tapping into his celestial map. There was much work to be done; visiting the humans in dreams, visions, inspiring their investigation and their work with star maps, and otherwise readying the universe for the mortals to discover it.

He would pace himself, go slow, and give the humans their best chance. It was the least he could do. He realizes that even without being forced to go, Solis would have made this choice eventually. He did want to repay the mortals for their kindness, and as a whole they were a truly inspiring bunch. He could do this… he could look forward. Solis could forget.

Solis, as it turned out, could not forget, but he did try.

Apetis, the city beside the ocean, was a progressive place. It never slept, and after the first year and moving into the cottage at the edge of town, neither did Solis. He was juggling too much to sleep; first his assignment in The Mortal Realm and then the extra work the Heavens had given him. There were charts to be made, logs to be recorded, and prophets to be selected. For the most part, Solis thought he was handling everything reasonably well. It wasn’t even until the end of the third year that he started thinking… Hey, maybe never seeing the light of day is bad for me?

It wasn’t as if Iphis refused to let him leave, Solis just hated dragging the man away from whatever important errands he was running just to supervise him. Iphis, like Solis, was everywhere at once (metaphorically speaking on Solis’ part) but unlike Solis, the Seraph was also assigned the perilous task of reporting back everything they did and learned to The Heavenly Realm… well, to his father.

Indeed, Aeris was Iphis’ father, and Caishen his… father? Solis didn’t really understand and it was clear Iphis didn’t either. They shared a home together, of course they spoke on occasion. Iphis liked to respond in single word answers, and Solis never understood when to stop asking questions. When the door slammed in his face, he knew he’d gone too far.

From what Solis gathered, mainly from the Seraph’s cold glares and eyerolls, he had been raised by Aeris’ Seraph and had only learned the truth of his birth many years later. Solis imagined it would be very painful to be discarded, buried like a secret, but still beholden to a father that would never recognise you as his son. If Iphis had a grudge against Aeris, or Caishen, Solis didn’t see it. It appeared that the man was steadfast and loyal, admirable qualities, but Solis wondered if it was still admirable to have loyalty to those who have already let you down. Wasn’t that like betraying oneself?

Anyway, it was strange. Life in The Mortal Realm was just very strange. It was never-ending work, and eating every two to three days, and perfectly clean, unscuffed shoes because he never went outside the walls of their home.

Solis listened to the ocean and the birds through the open window, and he did his best to not remember. It was harder than he thought.

Solis seeks out Iphis when he starts being unable to work. It has been five years and every breath feels like glass when he recalls how his love could be out there right now, maybe only one street away, but he cannot go to him or even begin to look. The Seraph is exceedingly unimpressed when the god of stars flops down on the floor and begins to cry.

“I can’t do it!” Solis sobs, frustration and exhaustion curling into one poisonous mix and threatening to spill from his throat.

“I can’t do this anymore!”

He kicks his legs and bangs his fists on the floor, a part of him hoping that if he makes a big enough nuisance out of himself that Iphis will drag him back to The Heavenly Realm for punishment. Maybe he could sleep another few centuries off his life in Vriseon… it was sounding better by the day.

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When he had screamed himself hoarse and snot and tears were trickling down his face, Solis turned his miserable eyes up to the Seraph who was both his captor and companion. He glared at Iphis. Iphis glared back, but in a way that made Solis feel strange and prickly, like he was being seen in his entirety and not just looked at.

What a spectacle he’d made of himself. He had truly fallen so far. Solis’ tears kept flowing and he began to sputter-

“I don’t care what the other gods think! I-I’m tired! I can’t live like this! He was taken away so suddenly and I never even got a chance to grieve, all my pain and anger and confusion is still here, sitting in my throat, in my chest! I can’t follow their orders when I don’t know what happened to him! I won’t! I simply refuse!”

Solis crossed his arms with a hmph and a sniffle, then turned his head to the side, fully prepared for Iphis to yank him up by the hair and drag him before Aeris. There was nothing Solis wanted more! Instead…

The Seraph yanked him up by his collar and shoved him out the front door. Solis landed on his hands and knees and as he drew in a great big breath of cool, fresh air, his eyes prickled and swam with white as he tried to adjust to the sun.

He heard Iphis walking around him, then the footsteps stopped. When Solis looked up again, the man was still glaring, seeing him, truly seeing his wounds as the god knelt there and bled before him.

Solis still preferred this over pity.

“We are out of potatoes.” Iphis said, his tone far too scathing for his words.

Solis blinked. “...what?”

Iphis scowled, putting one of his hands threateningly on the blade he always wore at his side. When he spoke again, Solis couldn’t help but feel a ribbon of amusement curl through his chest.

“Take a walk. Go to the market. If you want stew tonight, get potatoes.”

The god was confused in many ways and maybe that was what snapped him out of it. He stood a bit shakily, squinted at the sun, and dusted off his robes exceedingly awkwardly. When he inclined his head to the man indicating he should lead the way, Iphis scoffed under his breath and moved to go back inside.

“Go by yourself.”

Solis froze. By… himself… alone??

He had hardly done anything alone in the past five years. It was wholly alarming to note that he had spent more time in Iphis’ icy company than with the love of his life. Solis felt a pit form in his stomach as he watched the man go inside, his hand hesitating on the door.

The frown Iphis gave him when he turned over his shoulder told the god one thing. He’s not trying to get rid of me, or shirk his responsibility. I think he might actually be doing this as a kindness…

Iphis hissed-

“Go!”

Solis took off along the beach and scampered barefoot into the city, where the afternoon market was in full swing. It had been such a long time since he’d felt this level of freedom, in truth, it was a little scary. Solis leaned into that fear as he wandered around, shopping non-committedly and chatting with the townsfolk as he did.

The human’s stories always improved his mood, so it was no surprise that by the time Solis returned to the little cottage, the sun had already set and he was smiling from ear to ear.

The god was painfully exhausted. His feet hurt, his heart hurt… he wanted to take a bath and go to bed. Unfortunately, when he went inside, Iphis was still sitting up fully alert at the small dining table with its two mismatched chairs. Solis closed the door behind himself with a nervous swallow, and carefully plodded over to the man.

A sharp questioning look made Solis drop his bags of groceries on the table and hurry away. He retreated to his bedroom and listened at the door for any angry footsteps. All he heard was the sound of the stove being lit and Iphis bringing out their one large pot from underneath the sink. Neither knew how to cook, so they usually just threw in everything that tasted good and added some water. Solis could agree that they had similar tastes, so he let Iphis cook.

Iphis shops, Iphis cooks… Iphis keeps a watchful eye on me so I don’t do something stupid like run off and fall in love.

Solis banged his head on the door a few times, pitying himself. He felt useless and silly and embarrassed over crying in front of the man, who would more than likely report back to Aeris about the incident, if he hadn’t already. Solis couldn’t even keep up with his work, letting their mission slip away from him as he stayed inside, miserable, wondering why he couldn’t just move on.

When the sounds from the kitchen stopped and Solis thought maybe Iphis had gone to bed, he snuck back into the room and tiptoed to the counter. The god yelped when he found those familiar piercing eyes staring at him from the table, as still as a stone statue. Iphis tilted his chin at the full pot which emanated a scent that was making Solis’ stomach growl.

The god pursed his lips, wondering how shameless he could be, then decided that the man had likely already seen worse from him, so he grabbed a bowl of stew and sat down across from Iphis at the table to eat.

For a while there was predictable silence, and Solis felt that maybe he should break it by thanking the Seraph for his little taste of freedom today. It would make him angry, but it would make Solis feel better. Before he could say anything, Iphis muttered under his breath-

“If you can no longer hold it in, just cry. I will not tell anyone.”

Solis blinked, unsure what he was hearing. He couldn’t ask, because then the Seraph was leaving, retreating back to his own room and shutting the door carefully. Solis sat back, then leaned forward and ate, then went to bed without washing, feeling too tired.

They went ten years like that.

Things were good, until they weren’t, and then they were terrible, until the sun came up and the birds still sang and Iphis put too many potatoes in Solis’ stew because he thought he liked them the most. He didn’t, but he ate them gratefully.

Year sixteen and seventeen were… hard. Mainly because Solis’ work was easing up at last and he had all this extra time throughout his day to think.

He hated thinking. He hated it.

Solis hadn’t told Iphis that he’d started going to the tavern in the city and drinking alone until he passed out. He didn’t want him to worry. When Iphis worried, it made Solis feel guilty, like he’d let the other man down.

Iphis ended up finding him one night, completely out of his mind, stumbling across the sand, growing frighteningly close to the dark water lapping at the edges of the beach. The Seraph yelled at him and rolled his eyes a lot, then dragged Solis, limp like a wet dish rag, all the way back home where he placed him by the hearth and started fanning the flames.

Solis hiccuped and shivered even through the blanket held tight around his shoulders. He stared at the fire, then at Iphis, then at the floor. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but knew it had a name, and that he remembered.

“Cyndras,” Solis hummed, nodding drunkenly. “Did you know his name was Cyndras? I think it’s pretty. Like hyacinths.”

Iphis ignored him in his special way that meant he gave no response even though he was listening. Solis frowned and continued.

“I started… loving him, and then I couldn’t stop. And now, it’s all still pouring out. I’m afraid I’ll never be empty, just always half-full. Always missing him.”

Iphis was finished tending to the fire so he sat back and seemed to stare out the window. He was probably still listening, so Solis went on.

“He might be out there. He might be back. What if he’s alive and I never find him? What if… what if he gets hurt again, and I could have stopped it?”

Solis heard Iphis let out a shaky sigh. Still intoxicated and partially asleep, the god shook his head and tried to figure out why it looked like the Seraph was leaving.

“Okay,” Iphis said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Then, let’s go find him.”

Solis blinked a few times, then hiccupped again.

“R-Really? But…” he frowned. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

Iphis rolled his eyes. “I’d rather spend a thousand years in Vriseon then have to keep listening to you weep!”

And with that, the Seraph left, slamming the door behind him enough to rattle the windows. Solis sat there, drunk and wondering why it felt like he had a friend.

“HicCCupP!”