To Kill an Archon

The Breaking of an Archon

Seriously, if you didn't read the tags, go back and do it. They're there for a reason.

Venti watched him fall over the edge, his hair flying and body limp while he fell. His friend, his companion. He had followed him all over Teyvet in search of his sister, in search of his own happiness. Along the way it seemed he had found it, just not in the way he had figured he would find it.

He found it in the way he would laugh at the awful, absolutely terrible jokes Venti liked to make every now and again. The way he tilted his head when confused by the townspeople. How his eyes seemed to light up all pretty when talk of his friends reached his ears. How softly he smiled when they spoke of his sister. There was a sense of freedom that he found in those little moments. Not the same freedom he usually felt, free floating in a space of nothingness; this was more grounded, akin to running in a grassy field, clouds floating above.

He was always a bit co-dependent, it was a huge source of conflict between Morax and him. But the absolute tear in his chest as he watched the Mitachurl hurl Aether off the edge of Starsnatch Cliff didn't register in time. The horror he felt froze him in his tracks just long enough that when he finally dove off the edge, even with changing the wind pressures so he fell faster than he should; He recognized that he wouldn't be able to reach him in time, no matter how hard he tried. So as a last resort attempt, tears from either wind or fear blurring his vision, he reached a hand out, relying on any bit of Archon level powers he had left to shield Aether from the ground.

He hit the ground a second later, his own pain not registering as he limped over to his friend. A rushing was sounding in his ears now, and his vision shook in time with his rushing heart. Aether lay on the ground, blood leaking from his nose and mouth, eyes wide. Venti stood in shock for a moment, hands clenching at his sides at the sight of his friend broken and bleeding before him. '

This wasn't happening.

It couldn't be happening.

He'd been so sure he was being careful.

Venti fell to his knees beside him, a cry all too reminiscent of the last time this happened escaping his lips. His tears were making it impossible to see the full scope of his injuries, but the ex-Archon knew he wasn't breathing. Normally he could feel the breath leaving humans lungs, disturbing the currents around them. Aether was still.

He lifted one of his calloused hands, gently rubbing over it with his own. His screams of agony were lost to the winds collected around them. Though he continued to rub his hands, touching them to his forehead and kneeling over his body, he couldn't feel it anymore.

There was nothing but the pain in his chest, the winds tearing at his clothing, and the tears that didn't seem to be stopping. He gasped out a breath through his sobs, clutching Aether's hand as if it were the only thing keeping him attached to the ground.

He couldn't be gone, he just couldn't. His bright eyes, staring up into blank nothingness, no hopes, no dreams, no freedom, nothing. Venti felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, a deep voice sounding above him. It was filled with a different kind of pain, and Venti knew immediately who it was.

"Morax, please, leave me."

The man at his shoulder doesn't move an inch, his grip unflinching, a tether as Venti cried once more. He hated this, he couldn't even do anything to help with burial, nothing to bring him back. He could only cry and wish he hadn't froze when he was needed the most. What good was being an Archon if he couldn't even stop his dearest friend from falling to his death.

He felt Morax wrap his arms around him tightly, resting his head in the crook of the mourning man's neck. Venti couldn't lose another friend. The bard whose body he now inhibited had been his best friend as well, his death just as traumatic. He had disappeared for centuries afterward, gorging himself on drink and pleasure to quiet the noise in his mind. It couldn't happen again. He couldn't just say goodbye like this.

He tried to speak, to explain his pain to the other Archon holding him, but all he could do was stutter out through his cries.

"I- I can't!"

Venti had never before wished he was still an Archon, but now, now that he didn't have enough power to even save a friend from falling to death, he was reminiscent. "He can't be gone, Morax. He can't..." He broke off into a whimper, the tornado around them beginning to dissipate. His friend made a low sound in his throat, bringing a hand up to stroke through his hair gently. He hadn't even noticed his braids had fallen out.

"Its alright, it'll all be ok." Though his tone was soothing, it only caused Venti to cry harder; turning into his warmth, he buried his head in his collar. He felt as if he was crumbling, as if Morax was the only thing keeping him together, keeping him from just dissolving into the wind that was so gently blowing around them now.

"He didn't, he didn't find her yet." His hiccupped words made Morax stiffen, his hands stopping for a second on his neck before rubbing gentle circles as he spoke.

"I can help you bury him. Sink him into the ground wherever you want."

Venti sniffled, turning his teary gaze back over to his body. "Yeah, he should be in Windrise. Venessa's tree. The heroes."

Morax nodded, and Venti felt a small shift of the ground underneath them. Then they were there. No evidence of any burial, but Morax ensured him that he was right there, deep under the roots.

And he fell once more into his old friends arms, the shame of having cut Aether's life off so soon consuming him. Winds and dust swirled around them gently, just enough to shield the gods from prying eyes. Sometimes an Archon needed to mourn in peace.