[Congratulations Host on completing your first mission!] The System cheers, releasing a shower of holographic confetti. [Host does not have any missions to complete until Maria ascends!]
Which won’t happen for another 20 years.
[Host will have lots of time to get into character!]
Which technically was true, but he’s got a bigger problem at the moment. A red-eyed problem.
Asterius hadn’t been paying much attention on the way there, but they lived on the lowest ring of the heavens, while the Palace of the Sun is on the highest.
Normally you must pass by each floor individually, but because of the ceremony, a direct connection between all the rings had been formed. So, a trip that would have taken a full day only takes a handful of minutes. Luckily that heavenly elevator is still up and will continue to be up until a new Royal Sun is crowned (a weakening of Celestia’s internal defenses as it was explained in the novel. Just another stick added to Asterius's pyre as the main villain).
The difference between floors is still noticeable though, because with each ring they descend, the sky grows darker the further they go down. Once they finally land in the first ring, the Garden of Tranquil Day, it’s pitch dark out, despite it being close to 1pm. Sadly, he’s not lost to his thoughts this time, a bit hard to do, when his eyes sting and he can feel Cadyern’s gaze on his back.
He’s not sure when he changed, but Cadyern’s demeanor had shifted after they left the palace. Something colder and distant. He glances at the system.
[Why do you think System will understand him?] it asks, giving him a flat emoji to go along with the message [-_-], [System suggests you just ignore him.]
That’s what he’s been doing for the last 5 minutes, and it was only making his own unease worse.
He rubs the edge of his sleeves against his eyes, it doesn’t really help with the itchy dry feeling, (in fact, he thinks he makes it worse because he forgot that he’s covered in tassels, beads, and other dangling ornaments.) ‘Do they make godly eyedrops?’ he ponders, trying to remember if he saw anything like that in-.
“Asterius.”
He nearly trips over his next step, startled not only by Cadyern’s sudden voice, but also the address. He’s only called him “master” the whole month they’ve known each other. If he wasn’t certain before that Cadeyrn is mad, he’s sure now.
“Y-Yes?” he asks, slowly turning to face the demon. They are only about 2 minutes from the house (at least he thinks the small building in the distance is the cottage).
“The prophecy,” he says, and Asterius isn’t sure he’s ever seen him look so intent, “Why did you banish that godling to Mordin?”
Ah, so he’s not mad. He can practically feel his shoulders un-tense in relief. Everyone is probably dying to know more about the prophecy. He probably would have explained it a bit more if he wasn’t so convinced he was about to start crying in the middle of the ballroom. Thankfully that mortifying situation had been avoided.
“Sending her to the mortal world is the best thing I could do for her.”
Cadyern’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, now just a little beyond 5 feet from him, “Better how?”
Asterius frowns, that’s a rather odd question, still he supplies an answer, “Being among humans will help teach her what her divinity is for, and it will temper her into a kinder Celestial.”
Cadeyrn takes another step, a frown of his own pulling at his face, making his gaze almost look like a glare, “and that’s the only reason?”
Well, he couldn’t exactly tell him about the System forcing him to follow along with the plot could he?
[Host agreed to follow the plot!] The System protests, [ ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡ ]
“There were other factors,” he agrees, ignoring the pouting System, “but her wellbeing was the main choice.”
Cadeyrn laughs, for some reason it only causes a shiver to race down his spine, it feels wrong, misplaced. Cadeyrn has taunted and teased him since he arrived, but this humor lacks the warmth he’s used to. This isn’t real amusement, it's something darker, something unsettling. It takes a painfully long moment for him to remember that Cadeyrn is a demon, and he probably shouldn’t have ever treated him like a friend.
“You’re a terrible lair, little master,” and the demon takes three large steps forward, looming over him, “Want to tell me the real reason you just sent your Emperor away? See something unsightly in its future?”
“What?” Asterius is beyond confused, ‘seeing something unsightly?’ what in the world is he implying? “I’m only following the best future-,”
“The best future for you?”
Asterius doesn’t know why, but he’s offended and a bit hurt that he thinks he’s only out for himself. He was just trying to complete the first mission and go back home. He’s beyond tired and his eyes are still stinging-
Cadeyrn pushes closer, never actually touching, just hovering over him, obviously trying to be intimating, (he refuses to admit that it's working.) “Was it an order?” he asks, something dark and meaning to hurt in his tone, “playing the part of a good puppet again-.”
Cadeyrn cuts himself off, leaning away as confusion crosses his face, his angry words dying in the air between them.
Numbly Asterius can feel the tear slip down his face. He’s been doing his best to hold them back since they left the palace. Once the first slips free, the others are quick to follow.
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He quickly spins around, putting his back to Cadeyrn. Embarrassment mixes with his simmering anger and confusion about this whole situation, and the tears are doing nothing to help him untangle the complex web of feelings and thoughts in his head.
Really today was the worst day.
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Cadeyrn knows this is Asterius, the god of stars and fate, the one who has shackled him, and yet-
Awash in moonlight, tears of stars in his eyes, robes as blue as the midnight sky, something dark and possessive curls around his thoughts. He was not alive to see the former Queen of Gehenna, has no idea what the feeling of reverence and awe is supposed to feel like, had seen it on the Celestials' faces when looking at the foul royal sun, but here and now, he thinks he understands. There is an ache in his bones, a desire- no, a need to quiet the tears on his face. He knows Asterius is not the moon god, that is his sister, Ilona who one day he would bring back to her proper home, but tonight he can pretend.
“Little master-,” and he startles himself with how gentle his voice sounds, he’s treading into dangerous waters, this is a one-time indulgence, nothing more. For his plan to succeed it can be nothing more.
That does not stop his hands though, which carefully tilt the other god’s head up to face him. Gently he brushes the sparkling tears staining his perfect face away. Asterius’s eyes contain the whole night sky, every constellation, every fate, reflected in their depths. It feels like if he stares long enough he will see his own destiny staring back at him.
For his own quickly fraying sanity, Cadeyrn adverts his eyes to the darkened surroundings, “Let us return home.”
Asterius sends him a distrustful look, one he rightfully has earned, but it still twists the newfound instincts twining with his bones. His hands twitch on his face, and it frightens him that he’s not sure what it is he’s stopping himself from doing. He needs to quickly get this situation back under control, but it feels as if his bindings have become an immovable physical weight to his frame.
His god- Asterius scans his face for something, Cadeyrn is not sure he found what he was looking for, but he slips away, backing up several steps, “It’s getting late.”
It wasn’t. They both know it, but Cadeyrn will not refute it, is unsure if he will be able to.
They walk in silence for the last leg of the journey. Every sense feels honed onto the Celestial walking before him, catching every little change of his movement. He tries to force the instincts back down, but it feels impossible, and with every step they seem to grow louder, drowning out his thoughts.
He acts without thinking, reaching forward to pull open the door.
Asterius startles, spinning around to face him, panicked and fearful.
Something buried deep within his soul flares, desire so strong it nearly crushes him with its weight. He pulls Asterius close, cradling his head against his chest, heart racing. This was dangerous, very dangerous. The need gnaws at him, loyalty and promises he cannot speak heavy on his tongue. Asterius is not his mother or his sister. He is not the moon god, but his instincts still scream as if he was.
The god flails, trying to push against his chest, “Let me-,”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, truth burning his tongue. Asterius stills, there is still a tension to him, a tiredness that is so painful easy to spot now that the god is in his arms. “I’m sorry.” He does not know what else to say, cannot voice the treasonous things trying to crawl out of his throat.
Asterius sighs, the warm breath tickling his neck. He barely forces down the shiver, distantly he’s aware that this is the closest and most contact he’s ever had with anything living.
“I’m tired,” the god of the moon-stars says, “just let me go to bed.”
He barely represses the frustrated growl. There is a need, so strong it feels like it will consume him. Asterius is not his ruler, is not the moon, but the tug is there. The itch to prove himself, to carry even a fragment of his burden, he’s blurting out the words before he can stop himself, “Let me help you to bed.”
Asterius re-tenses, “What?” he asks in quiet disbelief, “Why would you-?”
“Just to bed master,” he promises, tension coiled so tight he will snap soon, he cannot look into those eyes, he will break. Swear himself to a god that is not his. But the need is so strong, to protect, to serve; he has to do something or he will spiral, “Please,” he hates how it sounds like he’s begging, needing anything to stave off the hungry instincts he’s accidentally released.
Once more, Asterius quiets, confusion and worry radiating off of him, but it is not a refusal. Asterius is smaller than he thought, and it's painfully easy to scoop the proud god of fate and stars up. There’s a squeak of surprise and Cadyern’s whole body freezes, some instinctual part of him yelling at his misconduct.
His precious cargo shifts slightly, hesitantly looping arms around his shoulders. When no order comes, he starts up the steps, keeping his eyes ahead, he must not look. This was a game far too dangerous to play, it had not soothed his instincts, only made them something uncontrollable.
He pauses to open the door, awkwardly shifting most of Asterius’s weight to one hand, a move that makes Asterius gasp with surprise, as he pushes the bedroom door open. The stars hidden among his hair ornaments, break away from the crystalline hairpins with angry chimes, circling around his head and tugging on the loose strands of his wild black hair. He pays them no mind, gently setting Asterius down on the bed. His rational brain is happy that Asterius does not look up to meet his gaze, the new instincts scream their displeasure. It is a crushing feeling, one he wishes he could fight, to think he has displeased his queen-,
“Thank you,” Asterius whispers quietly, shy and fragile. Cadyern’s head goes silent. That was all it took, two words, and Asterius had him in the palm of his hand.
“Get some sleep,” he says, turning towards the door. It feels jarring to be… back. He’s back in control fully but… he can feel the shadow of those dangerous dark thoughts, of instincts now settled, but waiting for another chance to be indulged. There is a foreign feeling in his chest, a hollow empty ache, it is the same feeling he gets when thinking of his homeland.
This was a dangerous foolish game, and he was not the victor.
----------------------------------------
As the door closes behind Cadeyrn, Asterius allows himself to stop staring at the silk sheets. He can feel the flush on his face, the stars circle around him, chiming softly. His brain is a tangle of thoughts, confused and alarmed by the sudden shifts in Cadyern’s behavior, another variable beyond his control that could so easily lead to his termination. But his heart is painfully clear, and desire bubbles under his skin.
“What was that?” he complains into the dark, even as he yearns for Cadeyrn to come back and hold him once more. He carried him so easily! Held him close like he was something worth loving-
[Host.] The System interrupts his spiraling thoughts, [OOC.]
“But you saw that!?” he protests, heart still fluttering, “maybe he actually does like me-,”
[Host please don’t delude yourself.]
‘Delude?’ he thinks, offended for only a moment before he sighs heavily, slumping back onto the bed.
“Yeah, I guess I was,” he laughs humorlessly, starting up at the painted night sky, “he wouldn’t want someone like me. I’m not even-,“ he cuts himself off before he can say it out loud, but it still echoes in his head ‘real.’
The tears well up in his eyes once more, and he rolls over, burying his face in the too-soft sheets. His head is a mess and his emotions are stretched too thin, he can’t do this.
He’s sure the System is saying something over his head, but he doesn’t look up. There is a new aching desire in his chest, one he knows will never be filled. It was fun to admire Cadeyrn, a perfect guy to admire but never have. But he had gone and done it, this wasn’t a crush anymore.
He knew if he got too close, he would lose, his heart was the prize and he had given it so easily the moment the demon had gentled. As he whispered “please” into his hair, and brushed away his tears with a look so hurt and loving-.
There was no way he was ever going to win, but why did losing hurt so much?