Arylos leaned back against the sofa, pulling a sleeping Iris close and stroking her hair as he took in the feel of her presence. He tilted his head over towards her and took in the scent of her, feeling the warmth and smoothness of her skin against his. He could swear that she was warmer than the coals of the torotsu.

Arylos closed his eyes as he remembered the letter Eir dropped off as his curiosity clawed at the corner of his mind. He reached out a hand and the humming air gently ferried the letter to his hand. As he took the letter in his hand, he recognized the thick parchment and the blue ink. The runes along the trim and the wax seal were all too familiar to him. Arylos gritted his fanged teeth as he debated throwing away the letter in the fireplace. He wanted to leave behind the life of war now that he was given a life of peace, even if it was just for the moment.

Arylos set down the letter and returned his gaze towards Iris. The Titan smiled as he watched her sleep soundly, her breathing steady and deep, drowning in the peace he wanted. The experience of her was enough to overload his senses as he found new details of her to fall in love with. The last Titan drank from the addicting emotions that she gave him deep within his callus and cold heart that shuns the light.

The feel of the letter in his other hand refused to leave him though, clawing at him as he knew just what the writer of the letter would ask. Before Arylos could retain control of himself, he felt his eyes weaken yet he couldn’t bring himself to shed a tear. He held the sleeping Iris tighter as his body refused to let him cry, binding up his fears with his burning anger. His lips quivered as he gave Iris a soft kiss on her scalp, wanting just to forget all of it. As he touched her, Iris stirred and slowly opened her eyes, groaning as she rubbed her face against Arylos’s chest.

“I’m sorry that I woke you,” Arylos said softly, wishing she would go back to sleep without an incident.

“It’s fine,” Iris grumbled while rubbing her eyes with a yawn. “I guess we should go upstairs and go to bed, huh?”

“Do you really want to climb up all those stairs?” Arylos asked with a smile.

“Eh, you have a point; that’s a lot of work,” Iris said while tapping Arylos’s chest. As her tired vision cleared, she caught a glimpse of the letter in Arylos’s other hand. “Did you read it?” she asked, gesturing towards the letter.

Arylos looked over at it and sighed, wanting to forget it. “No, and I don’t think I want to.”

“How come?” Iris asked as she slowly woke up fully.

Arylos lifted the letter and examined it once more as a soft growl emanated from his chest. “It’s from Anoron,” he said with disdain in his voice.

“Anoron, like ‘Templarian High King’ Anoron?” Iris asked as the name jolted her awake. “As in ‘God of Time and Avatar of Prophecy’ Anoron? You know, the ‘Keeper of Knowledge’ Anoron?”

“You mean the ‘signed our refugee waivers to let us stay in Sentoraya’ Anoron?” Arylos said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that one!” Iris said while reaching for the letter and examining it with more care and interest.

“Anoron Sarandiel, High King of Templarius and Archon of the Seekers,” Arylos said with a sigh as he leaned his head back. “God of Time and Prophet of Oracles. Damn, how many fucking titles does the man have?”

“I mean, he is a big deal,” Iris said with a shrug.

“He’s a tired and attention-seeking old man; a letter from him doesn’t bode well,” Arylos said with a growling sigh.

“But what if it’s him asking for help?” Iris said, rolling her eyes at Arylos’s laziness.

“That’s exactly why I don’t care,” Arylos said while snapping his fingers. “I can guarantee he’s asking for help for something. And if he’s asking for help, it won’t be good.”

“So you don’t want to help him?” Iris asked while sitting up but keeping the blanket wrapped around her exposed chest.

“He sees me as nothing but a tool; a weapon he can call on if he needs to,” Arylos said, lifting his arm up to scratch his beard. “He thought that long before we met in person, he believed that when he asked for my help with his people, and he still thought that when I asked for help with yours. I terrify him; the old bastard can’t stand the idea of a weapon that is powerful enough to wipe him out of existence and he has no control over it.”

“But aren’t you two friends?” Iris asked softly, looking down at the Templarian envelope.

“We were,” Arylos corrected with remorse in his voice. “For a while, I thought that I could let myself get close to him, and I did for a while. I saw him like a brother, but he saw me as a creature to cage. And I saw fit to move on.”

Iris thought about Arylos’s words, tightening the blanket around her to shield her from the cold. “You gave up who you were and turned yourself into a weapon to kill your people. And all he can see is the monster you are, not the man I see.”

Arylos opened his eyes and looked towards Iris with disbelief in his eyes. He grunted as he lifted himself up and thought about her words carefully. He kept his gaze down as his eyes darted around before settling on Iris with their haunting red glow. “Yes,” he said softly.

Iris looked up at Arylos and laughed under her breath. As she lifted up the envelope, she couldn’t help but wonder just what Anoron could want. “Arylos, if he’s asking us for help, would there be people in danger?”

Arylos thought about his response as his eyes darted towards the fireplace. “Or he’s in a situation where he sees no other solution other than for us to help him.”

“Either way, people are in danger,” Iris insisted as she eyed the envelope. “So ignoring Anoron means ignoring these people, and it means they could die.”

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“That’s how he plays his game,” Arylos explained with disgust in his voice. “He’ll find a reason to be indebted to him and make you feel compelled to repay somehow. That concern you feel is him playing you, holding that over your head until you comply.”

“That’s manipulative as hell,” Iris said with a grunt.

“One of many reasons I cut my ties to him,” Arylos growled while baring his fangs instinctively.

“But you still care for him,” Iris continued without interruption, watching as Arylos’s expression turned softer. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have warned him about Odin. You wouldn’t have told him about Baldr. If the Eikons came for him, you would have left him to them. Yet you can’t bring yourself to do that, could you?”

Arylos’s expression became more pained as he turned back towards Iris. Iris could see the pain in his eyes as she reached up to hold his cheek in her hand. “You still see him as a brother of yours, don’t you?” she asked softly, knowing the answer. “He’s the only one like you, to think like you. He’s probably lived long enough to always be there for you to vent to as well, right? You don’t hate him, you just wish he was better.”

Arylos looked down to the envelope in Iris’s hands for a moment before closing his eyes. He growled softly as he nodded with hesitation, reaching out and holding Iris’s hand as she stroked his cheek and smiled. Arylos slowly pulled her hand away and kissed the back of her hand while his breathing quivered.

“Do you want to help your brother?” Iris asked softly, finally unveiling what Arylos was thinking.

“I want to help people,” Arylos answered softly, keeping his eyes on Iris.

“Then if we can help his people, can we?” Iris asked while lifting the envelope for Arylos to see.

Arylos stared at the envelope with burning eyes, resisting his urges to throw the letter away. He continued glancing between Iris and the envelope, trying to make a decision of which to pick; his peaceful life with Iris or the hell that Anoron has prepared for them. “You may open it,” Arylos said softly while closing his eyes, admitting defeat.

Iris nodded and gently kissed Arylos’s forehead, warranting a soft growl from the Titan. She then looked down to the envelope and broke the wax seal, opening it gingerly as Arylos groaned at the sound of the seal breaking. Iris reached into the envelope and took out a sheet of folded parchment. As she unfolded it, she saw spiraling characters in a strange language written on it in a blue ink that glowed softly like iridescent stone with various colors. Iris ran her finger along the characters of the paper, unable to find any familiarity in them.

“I can’t read this,” she said with a soft chuckle while looking up at Arylos.

Arylos growled softly as he took the letter in hand and examined the writing. As he read, his expression changed from anger to concern, taking both pages in hand as his eyes danced across the page. “That can’t be,” he said while examining the writing.

“What’s wrong?” Iris asked, nudging over towards Arylos to look at the letter with him.

Arylos stammered as he tried to find the right words to explain what he was seeing. “It’s…I-It’s in Vlajhilsen’r,” he said in disbelief.

“The language of your people?” Iris asked, sharing Arylos’s disbelief. “If he picked that language, you would be the only person he wants reading it. Maybe a secret letter?”

“I never taught him this,” Arylos said in concern while looking up at Iris. Iris let out a sigh as she realized what Arylos was getting at; even though they were close, Anoron isn’t a Titan and more than likely doesn’t know their language.

So how could he write a letter using their language?

“What does it say?” Iris asked, her voice going cold.

Arylos looked down to the page and sat closer so Iris could see as he read the letter aloud. “‘Brother, I know that you did not read this when I intended it for you–’”

“Hold on, what does he mean by that?” Iris asked with a snarky tone.

“He’s the god of time,” Arylos explained with a sigh. “He meant for me to read this the moment it got to me but he knew that I would be otherwise…ahem, distracted.”

Iris’s face suddenly went blood red as she wrapped the blanket around her torso tighter. “Creep,” she grunted while looking around to find any hidden spies. Arylos laughed under his breath and continued reading.

My Brother,

I know that you did not read this when I intended it for you, yet I must insist that you heed me. When you warned me of Odin, I had him excommunicated from the Council. However, in the years since then, I have found myself in less fair company; I am concerned that I am surrounded by traitors or spies. The Council votes against me, no longer listening to my warnings. My advisors are secretive. My messengers are secluded. I feel the calm before a storm comes to Templarius and I cannot abandon these people to this fate.

I am worried that the roots of Odin’s influence have found deep soil in my council and I don’t know who to trust anymore. I want to think I did the right thing, but I believe it has come too late. Odin believed Ragnarok was afoot, Awilix told me in confidence that Itzamna readies for war, your old friend Ebisu secludes himself as if something is hunting him.

While you warned me that Odin had an Eikon in his company, I am worried that I am surrounded by them already. I know you don’t want this war, but I’m afraid we have little choice. I know what you think, but I must worry for my people; I know you’ll understand.

Your brother,

Orion.

“You were right,” Iris realized aloud while looking up at Arylos as he gnashed his teeth. “He does think of you as a weapon for his war.”

Arylos lowered the letter as his eyes danced around once more as his breathing quickened. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “I was right; he wants me to fight for him while holding the death of Templarius over me.”

“Because you destroyed his homeworld for him?” Iris asked, remembering what Arylos said about Anoron before.

Arylos slowly looked back towards Iris as sadness came to him. “Yes, just like how I destroyed Semigon. My action will kill thousands and only if we win while my inaction or failure will kill his world and countless others.”

“Damned if we do, fucked if we don’t,” Iris summarised while rubbing her arms together.

“Exactly, and it won’t be use who are fucked, but everyone else in the way,” Arylos said while his arm shook in anger.

Iris thought about their predicament and wondered what was the right course of action. She couldn’t shake an odd feeling in her gut that made her wonder more. “‘Orion’? What’s with that name?”

“It was his original name before he became Anoron,” Arylos explained softly. “The Anoron name is a title passed down his family line. He uses it in private circles, like when he approved our refugee status.”

“Right,” Iris said while slowly nodding, wondering just how many Templarian names were like this. “Although, I can’t help but notice how he didn’t tell us how to reach him, or how to find him,” she pointed out while pointing at the letter.

Arylos looked down at the letter and let out a sigh, whether of anger or frustration, Iris couldn’t tell. “Because he’s the god of time, and he already knows our answer.”

Iris looked at Arylos for a moment before the realization set in for her. Of course Anoron knew the answer, it was inevitable. She realized just how manipulative he can be, realizing the exact reason Anoron didn’t state where to meet them; he didn’t even ask for help, just stated that he needed it. His tone told her everything.

“Fuck,” was all Iris could say.