dotpointping

[dotpointping]

I was indifferent to Phainon at first but now when I look at him I have to resist the urge to write the most gut wrenching tragic love story for this man. Seriously, it's too easy to torture the men of Amphoreus.

Spoilers for 3.4 down below.

This is based entirely on my understanding of the leaks. That being said, I didn’t understand them very well because I only brushed over them lol. 

You were probably just a randomly coded npc made to fill the population of his hometown and just another kid he used to play with. But as the cycles went on, you grew more and more attached to him and subsequently he grew attached to you as well. Or maybe, you didn’t even originally exist in Amphoreus until Lygus determined Phainon was seriously too emotionally unstable and kept fucking up some of the earlier cycles due to his wrath and genuine disillusion with who he should be and what he’s fighting for. 

Either way, you were crafted to be Phainon’s. 

Phainon adores you. You have always been by his side and you have always supported him. You are who he fights for, you are who he returns to after war, you are the one who greets him warmly and kisses the crown of his head. You are the one to tell him that he is doing a wonderful job, that no matter what happens, you will stand by his side and support him. While he may bring about dawn to the world, you are the only one to embrace him when his dawn gives in to night. With you, he is not a hero, but a man. He is the son of a simple farmer and the son of Aedes Elysiae. With you, he does not bear the weight of the world, does not need to placate the people with smile and charm, and can cry as often as he needs. You are always there to hold him gently, caress his face, and kiss his tears away. 

You are the only one to call his name. Not the name he adorns as the Chrysos Heir, but the name his mother and father bestowed him years ago. The one he shed to ascend his role as hero. You say his name so sweetly, as though you were caressing every letter and breathing life into every drawn syllable, until it became unrecognizable from your lips. You beckon him with your gaze, and he can never say no when you bat your lashes at him so sweetly. 

“Rest, my sun,” You would say to him, kissing the curve of his nose, brow, and cheeks. But, never his lips. No, you always made sure to save his lips for last. Instead, you straddle his hips, and cradle his face gently in your hands. You whisper his name again and again, as though it was the only prayer you had ever been taught, as though he had already ascended Godhood and you were his patron worshiper, left behind on the altar as an offering. Perhaps you were— an offering, that is. He is unworthy of your love, unworthy of your warmth and affection, and unworthy of your loyalty. 

And I imagine the first time Era Nova is brought about, Phainon didn’t know everyone had to die. You are no exception— you may mean the world to him, but to this simulation you are no more pieces of code meant to ensure he will bring about the new world. He screamed and begged, cursed the Gods until his voice died and it was nothing more than a pathetic rasp. He had grown so used to fighting monsters and spilling his own golden blood, that he forgot the color of human death. What remains of you soaks his hair and smears across his skin, seeping deep into his pristine white armor. You are the final nail in the coffin that ensures he will destroy the current world, because if not for freeing the souls of his friends, then at the very least, finding a way to be with you.

In those thirty million cycles, he tries to flee his destiny. He takes you far away to the edge of Amphoreus borders, where you live peacefully together, untouched by the Black Tide and Fate. In this life, the floor creaks beneath your bare feet, the sheep bleat in the morning fog, and the cattle graze lazily while he clings to you as you hang the linen. The dogs will bark at every passing bird and the cats will curl like soft shadows in every sunlit corner. There is never silence in your small home, only laughter-- yours and the children's. He will give you as many as you ask for. They will cling to his legs, cry in the night, and tug on his cloak as he sharpens the scythe. You will hum as you work the soil, dirt underneath your nails and sweat on your brow, singing to the clouds until even the sirens fall quiet, greedy for a voice they'll never have. But of course, he should know that Heroes do not get happily ever afters. In these timelines, you always die young. Either you are killed by the Flame Reaver, the Black Tide, or even just Lygus trying to start the story, Phainon is unable to pursue this blissful existence with you. These deaths are the most horrific— where your body is mangled beyond recognition and carelessly tossed aside. Sometimes, he fails to find you at all. Even your children are not spared this gruesome fate, wretched from his hands and into the mouths of beasts.

The world mocks him for daring to dream of happiness.

No matter what he does, you will always part from him. Just as you cradle him to sleep every night, he must bid you farewell in a warm casket of your blood. Once you arrive in his arms, he knows that the dawning of the new world has come. What point is there in this world, when you no longer exist? Thirty million, sixty million, one-hundred million. He will traverse as many cycles as need be. In all timelines, you are his. You saved him from his never ending misery, you are the brightest light of his life, you are an angel sent from the heavens, you are the breath he takes at dawn to keep himself alive. You are his and he is yours.

He will stop at nothing until you are safe in his arms. One day, he will witness the hair on your head turn grey and your face adorned in wrinkles from all your laughter and joy. One day, he will take your hand into his own and he will never have to fear your warmth being taken from him. One day, he will awake in your shared bed as nothing more than your husband. 

But until then, he will continue to rebuild the world anew. He will take your corpse with him as he ascends to the skies, the smell of burning flesh accompanying him every step of the way. Even now, he cannot weep for you, for the tears die the moment they touch his body. He is the bearer of the world, the dawn that shines upon kingdoms and the light that they worship, but he is left behind, left to wander the darkness, searching for the dawn that once called his name. 

In all broken cycles, he will hold you close. From the foundations of your remains, he shall craft anew the world.

[dotpointping]

"Phainon claims to have fought a man for ten days.

That not once did he know rest, that no dream could compare to the singular thrill of blade meeting flesh, and steel clashing against unrelenting force. He speaks of it not with fear, but reverence. Like acolytes recounting their first epiphany with the divine. As a Chrysos Heir, his strength has never been in question. He has razed battlefields and bested creatures twisted by the Black Tide. You've seen it yourself— no matter how cheery a front he puts up, he is not a man to be tested.

You refuse to believe what he fought was a man. For what man could drive Phainon to the brink? He has returned to you with his arm wrapped in blood-soaked linen, the dressing barely holding the mangled flesh beneath. Bruises bloom across his chest in the shape of fists— deep and sickly— the blackened-blue color more akin to rot than bruises. A clean cut runs from the corner of his brow to the edge of his jaw, and his knuckles were flayed raw, skin torn from the ragged strips where bone threatened to peek through.

A beast. That must be what Phainon meant."

Synopsis: Mother used to warn you to never stray too far from the sea. That the moment a man saw you, you would never return to her arms. You didn't believe her and instead chose to tempt fate. Now the sea will not take you and the City that bound you has fallen to nothing. These days, you serve as the personal healer to the Chrysos Heirs. Though, keeping Mydeimos the Undying in good health is starting to feel like a full-time curse.

Author's Note: i hate you so much mydei i haven't been this down bad for a character in forever. somewhat canon-compliant (mydei ascends to godhood) but i make shit up as i go (there's so much lore in amphoreus that i'm getting a headache trying to parse through everything). i also probably shot myself in the foot posting this the night before 3.3 goes lives so we'll see how much of my story-boarding gets thrown out the window. aiming for 10kish words per chapter so there will be slow updates. don't worry there won't be too much angst, it's just gonna be two dumbasses trying and failing to communicate. also my first time doing this so please be kind.

Chapter I: TBA

Chapter II: TBA

Chapter III: TBA