It takes Solis seven years to find him, and he gives up more often that he’d care to admit. Iphis, to his credit, doesn’t let Solis laze about for long, even when the god begs to stop looking. It isn’t because Solis has stopped caring, but because he is afraid of what will happen if he finds him. Cyn’s soul, a stranger… the idea of it feels so upsetting and wrong that for a long time Solis doesn’t even want to look. He gets glared at whenever he brings it up.
“Stop complaining,” Iphis says. “He has to turn up eventually.”
That’s what he always says, for seven years, as he and Solis scour The Mortal Realm in search of his missing Prince. The work is draining, emotionally, of course it is, the years flickering by like stars burning out in an indifferent universe, heedless of the time.
Solis searches in his godly form, obscured by a costly, threadbare cloak with concealment spells woven in. It’s exceedingly difficult to blend in with the humans this way, but without the use of his powers he has no hope of telling one soul from another…
Cyndras. I can only pray that I will recognize you after all these years, if you are truly here… if you live.
Solis makes many journeys alone at the start; to villages, kingdoms, and valleys, but among those great oceans of souls, is never the one he is searching for. Iphis encourages him when the god refuses to go on.
“You can’t give up.”
“Why? Why can’t I?” Solis pouted at the man, “He won’t even remember me if I do find him, so what’s the point?”
Iphis just kept walking. Solis sighed and trudged ahead.
Over the years they’d been almost everywhere. It was reasonable to assume that if Cyndras had been reincarnated, he might live near Versilla, since souls sometimes followed a family line, but the kingdom where the Prince had lived once upon a time was nowhere to be found. Swallowed up by the neighboring kingdom of Xesith, Versilla had been overtaken in a war at some point after the Prince’s death. Now, there was a small branch family of the surviving inhabitants where those emerald spires used to stand, but nothing recognizable to Solis. He wandered the unfamiliar streets of that place for months, seeing nothing of interest, until Iphis dragged him away to another corner of the world to continue their search.
Xesith, the largest kingdom in The Mortal Realm and at one time, a thorn in Solis’ side. It was as vast and densely populated as he remembered from a trip a few years prior, but the idea of spending an extended amount of time suffocating on those cobblestone streets and dusty paths, just made the god want to turn tail and run away.
As the largest kingdom, Xesith was of course home to the largest population. Over forty-thousand people, and on their last visit Solis had stared at every single one he could find, searching, looking for some sign that what he’d lost could be found. But the souls just looked like souls, and the god was no closer to an answer than he was at the beginning.
In his godly form, Solis was unable to communicate with the humans, his true voice a frequency they could not hope to hear. He had to stick to the shadows, rely on Iphis to lead the way, and the cloak that always covered him from head to toe. Seeing a god in their midst has not always had a positive impact on the humans, and Solis would like to make the least amount of waves possible.
It is there, in Xesith, that he and Iphis spend the remainder of their time in The Mortal Realm. Solis searches sparingly these days, aching at night for the answer to a question that he is too afraid to ask out loud. Somehow, Iphis is able to steer him in the proper directions when he strays; away from the tavern, away from the sea, to the mindless bliss of sleep… Solis would let it all go, if he could, but he doesn’t. He searches. And in their twenty-fourth year in The Mortal Realm, Solis finally finds him.
The god hadn’t actively looked in weeks, too tired to bother, so he almost misses the sudden flash out of the corner of his eye that tells of an unusually vibrant human soul. Solis sees them occasionally; prophets, old-souls, artists, but this one is different. This light tugs at him in a way that forces him to move. He follows it, completely mindless, for an hour.
The glow leads him to the very outskirts of Xesith, to a small neighborhood with a view of the sea. With the sun nearly setting the dockworkers are just coming in, and people hurry home, calling and racing down the narrow streets.
Solis finds his way to a house no bigger than a large cupboard, the tin roof tipping and bowing between two other buildings. A crooked door with peeling paint swings back and forth on its hinges, letting out a soft squeaking sound, and as Solis approaches it he feels his heart rise up into his throat.
He waits with bated breath for the universe to give him a sign; that this either is, or isn’t right. He gets nothing from the universe. Instead, a soft humming can be heard from inside, and then the voice of an old woman calling-
“Stop loitering and come in, will you?! My porch can’t take the strain!”
Solis’ eyes widen as he fumbles his way inside the small house. It is as narrow and cramped as he expected, made even smaller by the amount of quilts, clothing, and sewing instruments covering every surface. Solis stands there, one foot inside, and stares at the little old woman rocking back and forth in a squeaky chair. She waves a careless hand at a neatly made bed, piled high with frilly blankets and aprons.
“Make sure you give the ones on top to the girl at the bakery, she just had her baby. I want to know if the clothing fits. Ah, feel free to come back tomorrow if your mother’s already closed the shop, I don’t want you out after dark on account of me.”
The woman doesn’t even look at him. Solis holds his breath, unable to stop himself from lowering his hood so he can take a good look at this person’s soul. His eyes water as he realizes that there was no way he could have ever missed it. Even without their fates tied, Solis recognizes his Prince. He recognizes him, and he loves him, and it still aches just as much as it did back then.
This is… this is Cyn.
The old woman still hasn’t turned to look at him, and as Solis takes another hesitant step inside and his foot presses into a loose board, he sees the woman still, her expression shifting in a heartbeat.
“Who are you? You’re not the neighbor’s kid…”
Solis blinks away unshed tears, managing to transform into his human body with barely a gust of wind. He pauses, takes a good long breath, and then says-
“Hello. My name is Solis.”
The woman turns to him, but her dark brown eyes are focused elsewhere. He sees her surprise, but then she clicks her tongue and leans back in her chair.
“Well, alright then. I’ll give you two coins if you can run this bundle to the bakery on the corner before nightfall. Think you can do that, young man?”
Solis swallows, nods, then manages a nervous hum.
The woman smiles with only half her teeth and Solis is about to move to the bed to grab the blankets and clothes when she hobbles to her feet and hands them to him herself. Solis watches as she moves, stiff and slow with old age, and when she passes over the fabrics, their hands touch and he feels her cold, frail skin, wrinkled and sagging over the bones in ways that his Prince’s had never.
Solis sees Cyndras in her unseeing eyes, her soul that of his long lost lover. The decades have added to it, of course, this is his Cyn with some new complexities, some wisdom, hopefully some joy, but this is his Prince nonetheless.
“Bakery on the corner,” he says, staring into her aged face. “I will return.”
She waves him off, collapsing back in her chair with a sigh that sounds exactly as tired as Solis feels.
He runs the whole way there.
Upon returning, Solis spends what little pocket change Iphis still allows him to carry on a bouquet of flowers at a closing market stall. Cyndras’ door is still open when he comes back.
“That was fast! I’ve got your coins right here. Oh, what’s this?”
Solis was the picture of a blushing maiden as he held the flowers out to the woman, and she took them at last when he pressed them into her hand. Her smile was like a balm to his weary soul. He sighed.
“A gift. To say… thank you.”
The woman stilled, then threw her head back and laughed uproariously.
“Oh, you are a character indeed! Sit, sit! Let me get you some tea.”
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“I don’t want to impose-”
“Shush! Where is my, ah-”
Solis stood by the door awkwardly while the old woman placed the flowers in a vase and brought out a kettle. Before he could ask to help she had already thrust a pail in his direction and demanded-
“Fetch some water, will you? Then you can tell me all about what brings you here, my young friend.”
Solis went to the well and brought back the water. The woman had him sit on the bed while she sat in her chair and lazily fanned the flames of the stove. Solis felt as if someone had stretched a second out until it was long and thin, and he was riding on the edge of it, time immaterial as the rest of the world went by on its own.
He couldn’t sit still, fidgeting and restless as he listened to the woman, his heart memorizing the sound of her voice.
“You’re new here, aren’t you, child? I know everyone, and you’re definitely a newcomer. So, what is your business in Xesith, besides helping little old ladies with their chores?”
Solis blinked. “Oh, yes… I am here looking for the love of my life.”
The woman smiled, her cheeks rounding slightly as she stared at nothing at all.
“Lovely, just lovely. I do hope you find the one you are looking for. Ah, those were the days. You remind me of him, actually. My husband was soft like that, and too kind, far too kind for his own good.”
Solis sat up straighter and managed to only sound a little aggrieved at the news his beloved had been married to someone else.
“Your husband. Was he… a good man? Did he treat you well?”
The woman nodded, her hand slowing and the embers beginning to fade.
“Very much so. We were blessed with a long and fulfilling life together, but sadly he passed eleven years ago. I miss him often, but life goes on.”
Solis captures every word and selfishly tucks them away in his heart, desperate for anything from his lover, even fondness for another man.
It meant Cyndras’ soul was happy at least, he told himself. He didn’t have to be alone, and maybe that’s one of fate’s little mercies.
Once the tea has been made, the woman, who he’s discovered is named Ito, settles back into her chair with a cup of her own. Solis has to pace himself, afraid to push and ask for too much. He feels that now that he has gotten a small piece of his Prince, he is greedy for it all. He wants to know everything, feel everything about Ito’s long, fulfilling life. The life that he missed.
“I really don’t get up to too much these days,” Ito laughs into her tea. “They really never tell you that a lot of being over a certain age is managing what to do with your time; sleep, or eat, or work. The neighborhood shops keep me fed and employed, and since it’s just me, I don’t have to worry about much else.”
“Are you not… lonely?”
Ito hums, considering. “I don’t know if I feel lonely anymore. Certainly I used to, after my husband passed and I began losing my sight. I spent years weighed down by my grief, but life is too short to dwell on things you have no hope of changing. And I don’t really mind having myself for company, so no, never lonely.”
Solis is about to tell her that he is grateful for that, but then she chuckles and waves her hand.
“Oh, listen to me! That is to say; I appreciate your company, Solis. You’ve humored an old woman and let me talk your ear off. My apologies, and thanks.”
Solis gulps down the remainder of his tea and hastily replies-
“Not at all! I’m… very happy to meet you, and would like to listen to more of your stories if that’s okay.”
Ito raises an eyebrow but smiles and nods.
Solis settles into the warming lilt of her voice like its a second skin. He realizes that she has the same cadence as Cyndras, and even the things she says sound like words his Prince might have uttered once upon a time. Solis drenches himself in every little detail, and finds his heart light and unburdened in a way so familiar and good that it nearly makes him cry.
“It was a lot indeed! Growing up in a house that small, with that many kids. I always thought I’d have plenty of my own, but we weren’t so lucky. That’s just life. The only way to get over something like that is to outgrow it. My husband always said "lean into it,” just lean into the hurt a little more and eventually, maybe you’ll find that it isn’t as bad as before.”
Solis stares at her. Ito stares off into nothing and then when she hears his silence, lapses into another story about her and her husband’s failed attempt at maintaining a farm.
Yes, Solis thinks, laughing for the first time in years. My Prince would never have lasted a day on a farm. Or, if he had, he’d have complained the whole time…
“Ah,” Ito sighed. “We found out rather quickly that it wasn't the life for us. I’d grown up in the city and my husband just wanted me to be happy. I probably made it a little hard for him sometimes, my moods changing on a whim. He used to say I was like a shooting star; gone before you can lay your eyes on it. I miss the way he looked at me more than anything. I'm glad that, as the years pass, I still haven’t forgotten that.”
Solis wishes he could tell her that he hasn’t forgotten the way Cyndras looked at him too…
“So, young man. What’s the story between you and your true love?”
Solis almost faints right then and there.
“Oh, he. I-”
Ito’s eyes widened, “He?! Goodness, you’re really not from around here! That’s okay, that’s okay! Love is love, right? Anyone that thinks otherwise must live a very unfulfilling life. So, tell me all about him! Where did you two meet?”
The god swallows nervously before answering.
“The forest.”
“Ah, I see. Was it love at first sight?”
Solis nods.
“He took me to the river and flirted shamelessly. I am embarrassed that I didn’t understand until many years later…”
Ito chuckles, “Sounds like a real charmer.”
Solis blinks tears away.
He was…
“Oh, mercy me-” Ito huffs a few minutes later. “I’ve kept you too long. Isn’t there anywhere you need to be?”
Solis stands, cleans up the fire and washes the cups. He listens to the creaking of Ito’s chair behind him all the while, and tells her with hope bursting in his heart;
“Nowhere. I could stay, if you need more help.”
He would stay close regardless, but leave he did, after Ito insisted it was far too late and he must return home. He doesn’t think he can tell her that he’s finally found his home, after all these years, and that it’s with her.
Solis waits on her porch until daybreak, huddled under his cloak to stay warm, and as the sun rises on the water, he finally hears Ito stir from inside. He tried to leave many times throughout the night, knowing he was being strange, but he could never get his feet to move.
“Huh? Oh, my dear! You’re freezing! Come inside, come in quickly!”
Solis finds himself bundled in some warm, fragrant-smelling quilts in Ito’s chair, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed when she asks him what he’s doing, and he says through chattering teeth-
“Can I stay?”
“Good heavens, child! Ah, yes. Are you warm enough?”
Ito feeds him and then lays in bed for a few hours and catches up on some of the sleep he’d deprived her of the night before with their long conversation. When she wakes again, she sits up and does some sewing, all the while chatting aimlessly with Solis, and then they eat lunch.
“Sorry, dear.” She says, sighing. “If I had more energy today I’d go out and get fresher things. You don’t deserve stale bread.”
Solis, who was already cherishing a third bite, swallowed thickly and said-
“No. It’s the best. If I could eat it forever, I would.”
She snorts and goes back to take another rest. Solis waits patiently for her to wake again, but as the hours pass and the sun outside the single small window dims, Ito doesn’t get up, and the god begins to pace with worry.
Is it cold? Should I get her warmer blankets? Maybe old women just sleep a lot, what do I know? But, maybe I should get her a doctor, just in case?
In the end, Solis still couldn’t get his feet to drag him away, even to get a physician, so he kneeled beside Ito’s bedside, carefully threaded their hands together, and held very, very still as he listened for her breathing as it softly stirred the air.
He stared at her aged face and his mind supplied a younger version, what she might have looked like in her youth, perhaps a bit more like the young Prince he knew. She was from a country that his Prince had almost gone to war with, and she had married another man, but this was his soulmate, and Solis loved her even as she took her final breath.
Tears were drying on his face by the time he came back to his body, and then Solis didn't know what happened. One minute, he’s crouched beside Ito’s bed, trying to will himself to let go of her unnaturally cold hand, and then the next he’s wandering through an unfamiliar part of the city without a clue where he’s going.
His thoughts evaporate as soon as he has them, so he ends up walking in mindless circles, not even feeling each step. There is a hollow ache tugging at his chest but everytime it threatens to rise, Solis makes another directionless turn down another dark street and his mind resets, numbing him the same way his ears and nose eventually turn frigid and cold.
Time slips away from him again and when he blinks awake, he has somehow ended up in the outskirts of the Aer Ari Forest, kneeling underneath a tree. He must have walked for hours. The sky is pitch black.
Solis is shaking so much that it feels like he is his own earthquake. Tears hit the ground beneath him and drench the soil, while his sobs, like thunder, roar and echo through the deep darkness of a wood he once loved.
For a very long time, he doesn’t even realize he isn’t alone.
When Solis’ choking sobs turn into gagging, and then he begins to heave and wretch, crumpling to the ground in a miserable heap, he suddenly feels a heavy hand gripping his shoulder. It pulls him out of the sharp sting of grief for all of two seconds, and in those seconds, Solis is able to clearly see Iphis sitting there, crouched beside him, his expression a complex mix of pity and shame.
Solis pushes him away at first, probably muttering nonsense, but then Iphis’ arms wind around him and he is being hauled into the Seraph’s chest, pressed tightly against him like an anchor gaining traction on the seafloor. Solis collapses into him, and is only partially aware of his own sharp, frantic breaths, and the distant thrum of his heart; the god’s entire nervous system forcing him to relive a centuries-old memory over and over again as he shakes and cries.
Solis shouldn’t have looked. As the sun takes what feels like a small eternity to rise, that is all he can think. He shouldn’t have looked for his Prince. He knew what he would find.
Twenty-four years in The Mortal Realm…
He’d lost Cyn in twenty-four hours.