Archive of Our Own

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Early Season of Calamity (Fall), Aedes Elysiae Valley, Nousporist Farm

(XX37)

For Anaxagoras…

It all began one sunny fall morning…

It begins like a downpour on a cloudless day…

・・・

He is tending to his experimental spring crops in one of the farm’s four greenhouses—as he does in the early morning after his initial round about the farm—when a carrot decides it wants to be stubborn. Onlooker is at the end of the carrot section, putting the carrots he just pulled out of the ground into his basket, and Anaxagoras doesn’t want to bother him. Besides, the experimental sections of the farm are the ones he tends to himself, just to ensure none of the chimeras get injured. Anything could go wrong, and the last thing he wants is Onlooker, or any chimera really, to feel like they did something wrong.

Adjusting his stance, he pulls on the carrot greens, grunting when he still finds resistance. He can feel sweat beading on his forehead as he pulls and pulls, but he refuses to give in. He’s stronger than this carrot, he is, and he will not seek the help of others for something that he should not be having a problem with. It’s a carrot, for Reason’s sake! So he shifts his grip a little, digs his heels into the ground and tries again, with every ounce of strength he has. He’s gained some muscle mass since taking over this farm, and he’s about to put it all to good use. He bends at the knees, rights his shoulders, and tugs, pulls, and wrenches the carrot until it finally bursts free from the ground. He lets out a yelp of shock as he stumbles backward, landing with his back on the moist ground of the greenhouse, taken by surprise at just how—

“I did it! Hahaha! I did it!” He yells, slightly out of breath…no, definitely out of breath, into the ceiling of the greenhouse, causing many of the chimeras working in the area to cheer their awoos into the air as well. “I’ve done it! It was a success! I must tell Phainon at once! He will…be happy…to hear…”

What?

That’s not…right… The first person he should tell is Hyacinthia. She’s been his sounding board and occasional assistant on the matter of giant crops (since they have a history of working together back at The Grove); therefore, she’s the one he should be telling first.

Right?

And yet, it is Phainon who comes to mind. The way his eyes would grow big and shine brightly at hearing the news, the way his grin would grow as he lifted Anaxagoras off the ground to spin him around, mindful of the crops growing beneath his feet.

What?

“Awoo?” comes from his left, and he turns to see Nanus staring at him from where he’s standing on Beagle Coconut’s back. Hanging from Beagle Coconut’s neck is a small recorder on a ribbon, while Nanus has a little bag on his back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” he tells them, and while Beagle Coconut just nods, Nanus’s eye narrows as if he doesn’t believe Anaxagoras. Which, to be fair, he barely believes his own words as they repeat over and over in his brain. But nevertheless, they leave to continue their round around the greenhouse. He watches them for a few moments until they’ve departed to go check on the progress of the next greenhouse.

With a sigh, he turns his attention back to the giant carrot in front of him and questions just when Phainon had become so important to him.

・・・

Except…that’s not exactly when it started. At least not entirely…

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The Previous Early Fall, The Grove, Anaxagoras’ Office

(XX36)

It all started just before the winter of the previous year, when he woke up bleary-eyed in his office to see Cerces, his old mentor, glaring at him over her cup of steaming mint tea. He knew he should have been annoyed at her mud-stained sandals on his coffee table, but his pounding head decided for him that it wasn’t worth it.

“Anaxagoras.”

“Go away.”

“Absolutely not. You have passed out at your desk in the middle of the day for the last time. You gave a poor student a fright; she thought you had finally keeled over and left us all for good.” The woman said as she daintily drank her tea, wrinkling her nose at the taste. He doesn’t know why she insists on drinking his mint tea when she herself is more of a fruit tea person, but Cerces was just like that sometimes.

“I merely fell asleep. There is no need for such exaggeration of my current state. It should have been obvious that I was still breathing. Such dramatics…” he grumbled as he pushed himself up from his desk and grimaced when a paper came with him, stuck to his cheek. He gingerly peeled it off his face and set it down.

“Dramatic, he says. Pot, kettle.”

He ignored the callout. “Do you have any actual reason for bothering me, Cerces? If not, please excuse yourself.”

The smile on Cerces’ face grew as a sense of dread raced down his spine. “I do, dearest student of mine.”

A paper is held out in front of him.

・・・・・

Late Fall, a day before Winter, Anaxagoras’ Home

(XX36)

Despite the event having occurred over three hours ago, he was still fuming as he entered his home. How could he have been so stupid! He should not have forgotten that classes were shortened this week for the late fall festival, but he had. It seemed that lounging around the house had not been good for him after all, as Cerces had claimed. Oh, how happy he had been to be in The Grove’s halls again, to hear the sound of lectures, of successful and failed experiments, of the groans of too much work and the soft sounds of happiness at completed assignments. Though he was a man who preferred silence, hearing the sounds of knowledge and its ups and downs was something he also enjoyed. So it was not that that he was angry about.

No, what he was angry about was that Cerces, the only one who could sign off on him coming back to work, was missing.

“Sabbatical,” she had told him that day. "Until the new year," was the smug follow-up.

That’s what the paper she had handed him that day said before pushing him out of his office, marching him into her car, and driving away from The Grove at breakneck speed. When he had returned to the university the next day, he found that his keycard didn’t work, and when he went to his office, his locks had been changed. Essentially, he had been locked out.

Locked out!

So he had given in, for the moment. He had gone back home and decided to work from there. Of course, it seemed his email access had been rescinded as well, but that was fine; it was simply one less headache. It meant he could work unhindered, which he sorely needed. So for one week, he didn’t think about his classes or Cerces; he simply worked on his backlog of experiments. Then, after that one week was over, he woke up early and made his way to The Grove. Only to fail in his mission.

So now Anaxagoras was back at home, clearance paperwork unsigned, and annoyed that once again, Cerces got the better of him.

“That woman causes me nothing but trouble!’” he thinks as he holds the dromas plush he keeps on the couch tightly, trying to keep himself calm.

No matter how much he wishes to curse her for her poor timing (or rather, her convenient timing), Anaxagoras knows all he is doing is wasting precious thoughts. Cerces has been a pain in his neck since the day they met. He, a fresh student at The Grove, far younger than any of his peers, and she, who had just come back from her round-the-world trip hauling the first of thirteen loads of books back to her office, had knocked him clean over with her bag, not paying attention.

But that was years ago, and this is now. She still treats him like a child, even when he’s become more accomplished than her. It’s not bad; it’s nice sometimes, reminding him of his sister…

He just wishes that she would let him live his life and make the choices he chooses!

Ah, perhaps he’s more tired than he had thought, the trip to The Grove wearing him out. His heart is racing…

Perhaps going to bed early will calm his temper…and he’s laid out on the couch in just the right way...

He’s too tired to move, anyway…

A nap will do him well…

・・・・・

A few hours before Midnight, Anaxagoras’ Home

(XX36)

The sound of old metal grating against old metal roused him from a restless sleep. It’s not a gentle rousing, no. The sound is awful and sits awfully in his throat. There’s only one thing that he can think of in this entire house that would make such a sound, and he wants to know what idiot thought it was a good idea to use the ancient, rusted mail slot of his door when he has a perfectly good dromas-themed mailbox at the end of his very long driveway.

He rises to his feet, albeit a bit wobbly. He ignores how his vision swims just a little as he stands up, curiosity getting the better of him. More than likely, it’s some prank, but the fact that it’s late fall and the cold has already settled in has him doubting that hypothesis. He hisses when his foot touches the cold wooden floors and quickly taps his feet around looking for his dromas slippers. They are old things, a gift from his sister many years ago that he cherishes deeply, and this pair always lives near the couch.

Once he’s got them on, forgoing his eyepatch, he continues his trek. The living room is a decent distance from the front door, but even with how far away he is and his somewhat poor eyesight without his contact lens in, he can see something on the carpet in the soft glow of the lamp that is always on near his door. When he gets closer, he can see the object for what it is—an envelope.

And he would recognize that beige and green wax seal anywhere.

Cerces.

Which is odd, given what he had learned earlier. He would have thought she would have been halfway across the world, staying in some log cabin with Mnestia by now, not apparently dropping off letters in his mail slot at some titansawful hour at night.

With a heavy sigh and ignoring the twinge in his back from the awkward position he had been sleeping in, he bends to pick up the envelope and rips it open, uncaring for the wax seal or leaf stickers that have been stuck all over it.

He regrets it as he glares at his mentor’s awful scrawl. He has to move the letter closer and then pull it back a few times to get his eye to adjust to the low light and lack of corrective lens, but he eventually makes out the words.

To my dearest Anaxagoras,

Since you are hellbent on keeping yourself busy and not listening to sound advice about resting (I have eyes and ears everywhere, boy! I know you went to The Grove today!) I am writing to ask a favor of you.

There’s an old farm that I own, one that I forgot about until I was cleaning out some old files before my own sabbatical. If you wouldn’t mind checking in on it, I would greatly appreciate it.

I would even owe you a no-questions-asked, nothing-off-limits favor, if that sweetens the pot~

May Reason safeguard your thoughts,

Cerces

He tosses the letter to the side. What a joke.

・・・

Except…

A favor from Cerces. An anything favor from Cerces. Which means…he can go back to work! He looks over the paper, flips it over, holds it to the light. Looks anywhere he can for any fine print, even going so far as to stumble to his office to dig out an old blacklight to make sure there’s no fine print written in invisible ink once he finds his glasses and slips them on.

Perfect. Perfect.

He’ll go visit this farm of Cerces’, check it out, do something extra that exceeds Cerces’ expectations, and then immediately cash in that favor. By the new year, he should be back to teaching and experimenting like nothing had ever happened.

What could possibly go wrong?

・・・・・

Season of Fate (Winter) 6, Aedes Elysiae Valley

(XX36)

Oh, how he loathes his mentor.

He had set out on the first day of winter. He had wanted to leave as soon as possible, but it seemed that travel options to Aedes Elysiae Valley were very limited and the first available day to travel was the first day of winter. The trip was fine, as Cerces did not shirk out of getting him good seats on the plane, train, and then bus. However, upon arriving at Aedes Elysiae Valley, he was provided with the information that there was no inn for him to stay at.

“Hee~ Sorry about that!” The pink-haired woman sang at him as she rocked on her feet. “It’s rare that we have folks visit that don’t know someone here that they can stay with. You’re like the first person I can remember who isn’t related to someone here, and I know everything~ So who did you say you were here for?”

“I am here to check in on Sprout Farm. No more, no less,” he responds.

“Ohhhh~ That old thing? I wasn’t aware it was owned by anyone. Properly abandoned and all that…” The girl sighed, placing her hand on her cheek.

“It is, by a woman named Cerces. I am simply here to check in on it, that’s all. I won’t be here long, just a few days. I don’t see the need to get power supplied to the farmhouse, hence why I was inquiring about an inn.”

“I see! Well, we don’t have that here, but you can stay with me~ It’s no worry at all! My roommate is currently out visiting one of the nearby islands, so it won’t be too crowded if you take the guest room. Just don’t mind the chimeras; that’s also their room.”

He nods…and waits.

“Oh!” The girl exclaims. “You wanna go now? Don’t you want to explore the farm?”

He shakes his head.

“Well, okay then. I’m Cyrene, by the way~ And you are?”

“Anaxagoras.”

“Anax…ag… Anaxa?”

“No.”

“O~kay~”

That had been five days ago, when the sun was bright but the air was cold. Now, on the sixth day of winter, the sun was completely hidden behind too fluffy clouds as snow fell heavily from the sky.

And he had just received word that the bus would not be able to leave Aedes Elysiae Valley for some time, as a freak snowstorm had caused the mountain pass to become blocked.

So he was stuck.

"Curse my mentor," he thinks once more as he stands out in the cold, bundled up in a (borrowed) large fluffy pink sweater, watching as the local blacksmith, Madam Gorgo, and her son, Mydeimos, finish hooking up the power in his new residence.

“I know it’s not what you were hoping for, Professor, but I hope you will enjoy yourself.” Comes a gentle voice from his side, followed by a doot doot and the fluttering of wings.

(And hadn’t that been a somewhat nice surprise, finding out that Hyacine was living in the Valley? Of course, he hadn’t liked the fact that they had met because he had slipped on ice and slightly twisted his wrist, but that’s neither here nor there. Even if his wrist was still sore…)

“Hm.”

“Heehee. I promise I’ll come by later with some supplies and a meal from the Saloon. Mydei runs the saloon, so the food is always good and nutritious!” A grunt sounds from the side of the house. “Mydei’s just being modest. His cooking really is the best! Even Little Ica likes it~”

“That creature will eat everything.” Anaxagoras huffs. “I remember how often students used her as an excuse to submit their assignments late, and I had to allow it because it was true.”

“She doesn’t do that anymore, I promise, Professor.” Hyacine giggles as Little Ica doot doots again, coming up to boop his cheek.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation, Professor Anaxagoras, but the house is ready. If we had known you would be staying longer, we would have had it ready for you, but alas, it is what it is. My boy is off to his Saloon, but if you need anything, just come by the Smith. If you can’t find me, just tell Eurypon you're the new farmer.” Madam Gorgo says, face impassive, but her gaze holds a distant curiosity. “Now, a few things to know that I’m sure have slipped everyone’s mind: check the TV every morning, all four channels. The Weather Channel is where you’ll get the next day’s weather from. It’s not a prediction around here because the faeries are good at what they do, and no one knows the weather better than them. Plan accordingly, they are never wrong. The next channel is Titan’s Favor; it’ll tell you your luck for the day. Again, the faeries. The next channel is Valley Insight, which airs every few days. It gives you tips and tricks for farming and chimera care. Most of it is common information, but our soil is everchanging around here so it’s good to take the time to watch it. If it’s a rerun, it gives you a chance to enjoy your morning beverage of choice. Lastly, Kremnoan Delights is Mydei’s baby. He won’t make a cookbook just yet, but he does record and share his recipes. Make sure you write them down; it’ll help you make friends around here. If you ever have any questions about a recipe, drop by the Saloon, but make sure you bring some pomegranates with you as payment. There’s not much else but static on the other channels, as we aren’t really a populace that watches TV. I would say we’re a real social bunch, so make sure you frequent the main part of the Valley often, especially on festival days. And lastly, the most important thing to know about our Valley is—”

“Awoo!” He startles at the cry, looking down to see a mint-colored creature sitting at his feet, looking up at him with one eye.

“The chimeras.”

・・・・・

Season of Fate 7, Aedes Elysiae Valley

(XX36)

The next day was spent entirely making introductions, something very overdue, running around the Valley and meeting everyone. However, as he’s ending his day by getting a few things from Cyrene, he learns that there is still someone whom he has yet to meet.

“Ah, he’s a busybody, that boy is,” Cyrene laughs as she hands him a few blankets from her closet, thankfully in muted colors and not pink. “He should be back in a few days, so you can meet him then.”

“He?”

“Oh! Weird, I thought he would have been mentioned by now since he’s so beloved. Phainon, that’s who~” Cyrene sing songs as she helps him load the blankets and other household goods into the small wagon he dug up from one of the farm’s sheds. Patiently waiting to go, two chimeras talk to each other.

“I see.” He comments absentmindedly. He’s tired, a headache brewing behind his right eye, and he just wants the blankets to keep himself warm. Several of the chimeras that were helping on the farm had panicked over the fireplace in his home, and since there was a snowstorm incoming and he was having them stay with him, he didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. So after running around all day, he went asking around for as many blankets as possible, plans for a heating system turning over in his mind. However, it seems none of this is getting across to the pink-haired woman.

“Ah, I feel like I’m doing such a bad job of introducing him!” Cyrene pouts. “He’s what we call our Deliverer.”

Ah. So that’s who Mydei and a few others had mentioned. “I see.”

“He’s really a jack of all trades in the Valley, but mostly he hangs around the mines and visits the local islands. He helps me with the Community Center too! He used to be more of a farmer when he was a boy, but the second he saw a sword for the first time, he was smitten. He’s actually the one who tended your farm while the original owner was gone. That’s why there’s so much wheat, hehe~ If you ever want to read about his adventures, Castorice has been using his stories to practice her writing skills. You said you knew her, yeah?”

“I do, she was a student of mine,” he says proudly. That had been another nice surprise, meeting Castorice again as she and her sister were tending to their flower garden. “A curious man, this Phainon sounds like. A busybody indeed.”

Cyrene’s smile is nearly blinding. “Hehe, that’s Phainon for you~”

・・・・・

Season of Fate 8, Aedes Elysiae Valley

(XX36)

That night, it rained something fierce, flooding the farm and the path to the main part of the Valley, but luckily, the television had correctly predicted the rain, and so he was prepared for it.

However, it seems other people were not.

He’s out on his porch, drinking his morning tea and watching the rain continue to fall. At his feet, the chimera that he learned was named Nanus was also drinking tea from a bowl Anaxa had bought the day before. He had tried to give him water, but the chimera kept looking longingly at his tea that he had given in. He felt a little bad that he didn’t have a cup for the chimera, but he made a note to pick one up when he went into town next.

Which, judging by the rainfall, might not be until—

“Hello! Hello there!” A voice calls out, somewhat swallowed by the rain. He turns his head to see a man entering the farm from the main entrance, waving his hand.

He simply raises an eyebrow, not returning the gesture. He already knows who this is, as he’s never seen him before.

Phainon.

“Hello!” the man calls again as he briskly walks toward the farm, waving. On his back is a bright yellow backpack, easily seen despite the light morning fog. “Hel—ack!”

…

He watches as the man falls forward, having slipped in the mud, and lands with a great splash.

・・・

“Heh, sorry about that, Professor! That was a little embarrassing…”

“Fool, stop moving around so much.” He chides as he touches the cotton swab to Phainon’s cheek. He’s already cleaned up most of the man’s face with a wet cloth, neatly placing a bandage on the scrape on his chin from where he must have met a rock when he fell. There are a few scratches on the other cheek, but nothing that requires bandaging.

“Sorry!” Phainon chirps, poking his fingers together. “I was just excited to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Really?” He didn’t think he’d be so memorable this early on.

“Mhm! When I arrived back late last night, Mydei told me that the old farm was being taken care of by a newcomer. A professor! And we haven’t had anyone that wasn’t related to someone in the Valley visit us in a long, long time, so I got excited. Plus, I heard you managed to tame all the chimeras that were roaming around, which is incredible. The ones that roamed your farm are some of the most independent chimeras that live in the Valley, you see. You must be an amazing teacher!” And then he’s met with a blinding smile that hurts his eye.

“I see...” he mutters as he continues to clean Phainon’s face.

“Haha, I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Phainon gingerly lifts a hand to rub the back of his head, grimacing. “Sorry, I’m just…wait! I’m Phainon!”

He blinks. And blinks again. Part of him wants to say he already knows who the man is, but part of him doesn’t want to crush the man’s optimism.

“Anaxagoras.”

“Oh! Can I call you Anaxa?”

“No.”

・・・

As it turns out, Phainon isn’t as airheaded as he made himself out to be. After making sure the young man was fine, Anaxagoras was going to send him on his way when—

“Oh! Professor, it stopped raining! How about a tour of your farm?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I don’t know the layout of the farm already. I am not one to sit idle and let a problem persist.” He crosses his arms as he speaks, maintaining his raised brow.

“Ack! That’s not what I meant.” Phainon scratches at his cheek, wincing as he hits one of his bandages, as he responds. Then, his gaze goes soft as he looks out the window. “I meant… I’ve spent a lot of time on this farm. My parents have a tiny wheat field that I adore, but I always wanted a large farm like this when I was a boy. But since we didn’t know the owner, we sort of just…let it be. It’s kind of rude to just…take over something, even if it's not being used, you know? We tried to talk to the faeries, but they said that one day someone would come for it. So we just…let it grow and grow. But I still snuck in, planting different things, harvesting whatever grew, playing with the chimeras. I did eventually get caught, but I used to treat this place like my own farm. That’s why there’s wheat growing randomly. I, uh… I had some creative planting ideas and well… It’s not like anyone was taking care of the farm…”

Well, that certainly explains a lot about the mess he had walked into. Given that Phainon said a lot of what he did was when he was a boy, it’s likely that the farm has been randomly growing whatever he had planted.

“I see.”

“Ah, I’m all over the place today; I’m sorry.” The young man says as he keeps looking out the window. “What I’m trying to say is there’s a lot more to this farm than meets the eye, and that’s simply because much of it remains hidden. It took me over three years from when I first started playing here to find the mushroom cave. And it took me even longer than that to find the Dromas Forest. Imagine the entire Valley’s surprise when I stumbled upon its entrance. Not even the faeries knew it was there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Miss Cerydra that excited before…”

“...Dromas…Forest?” Impossible.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I suppose no one would have mentioned that. But I saw your plush over there, so I thought it might be worth mentioning.” Phainon turns back to him and smiles. “There aren’t many of them, as they tend to migrate around, but we have a Dromas Forest where a few dromases visit during the year. In fact, I think some of them might be—woah!”

Coat in hand, he grabs Phainon’s arm and pushes him out the door. The mushroom cave, the farm and its surprises, even the rain can wait.

He must see the dromases.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Mid Season of Calamity, Aedes Elysiae Valley, Nousporist Farm

(XX37)

Even after he had thought about his time in the Valley, he still didn’t have his answer as he watched the giant carrot be carried away by several chimeras, all of whom happily volunteered to be the ones to carry such a marvelous crop. He had a feeling they would be bragging about it later, when the chimeras have their afternoon meeting, and he’s correct when Nanus came awoo-ing at him later that day about not informing him about managing the transport.

But it’s been days since then. Days have passed and he still thinks about his reaction. Even now sitting on the bench outside his home, watching the chimeras run around and play, he still thinks about what happened. To distract himself, he focuses his attention harder on the chimeras. Even after all this time, now in his fourth season in Aedes Elysiae Valley, the chimeras amaze him. He had felt guilty at first for letting them help him in the capacity that they do, but by the third day they had a schedule down pat, including breaks and playtime. And even then, he had cut it down some fifty percent because they should be allowed to have time to themselves.

Scribbling absentmindedly in his notebook, he jumps when a shadow suddenly falls over him and looks up to see—

“Hi, Professor!”

“Never going to drop that, are you?” He grumbles, putting his pen down. The man standing in front of him simply laughs, waving his hand. While pleased that Phainon takes his title seriously, he does find that it’s a reminder of what he’s been missing… Well, that, and he’s never truly taught Phainon in the traditional sense to earn that title from him.

“You are a professor, are you not? I have to make sure I’m used to it, in case you decide to teach here some day, Professor Anaxa.” The white-haired man jokes, unaware of Anaxagoras’s brief moment of turmoil, eyes sparkling in the midday sun.

“Oh?” he challenged. “Is my teaching the chimeras how to farm not worthy enough to be called a teacher, Phainon? Have I not taught you new ways of farming as well?”

Phainon blanches, waving his hands in front of him. “Ah! Ah! That’s not what I meant! I meant like in a proper schoolhouse, with desks and chairs and a blackboard and…you’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Ten points,” he says blandly.

That gets a laugh out of Phainon. “Uou sound like that doctor I occasionally see Hyacine and Castorice watching videos of. Dr… Correlation? Dr…Radius? No, that doesn’t sound right…”

“Dr. Ratio?” He comments as he closes his notebook, knowing that with Phainon around, he won’t get much written down.

“Yes! He scares me…throwing things… You didn’t do that, did you? You rarely talk about your teaching days, and Cipher can’t find anything about you…”

He thinks about his teaching tool for a moment, missing it. “No.”

(He ignores the fact that Phainon has had their local sleuth and cat thief look into him.)

Phainon pulls a face. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Anaxa!”

“Anaxagoras. It’s been—

“Three seasons since you came to the Valley.” Is wistfully uttered. “It both feels so recent and yet so long…”

“And yet in those three seasons, you still haven’t said my name correctly. Fresh air must not be as good as they say.”

“Wah! You’re so mean to me!” Yet despite his words, Phainon doesn’t hesitate to pull him ‌to his feet, wrapping his arms around Anaxagoras without a moment of hesitation. “I forgot! Good morning, Anaxa~”

“Anaxag— Good afternoon, Phainon.” It’s a battle he keeps losing, but will continue to fight.

“I missed you!” Phainon says as his arms squeeze Anaxagoras tighter, threatening to lift him off the ground. “Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing that I can think of that would interest you,” he comments dryly, mind already wandering back to the giant crops. Phainon does enjoy farming, which he is well aware of, but enjoying doing a task and learning about the science behind it are often two different things, from what he’s found.

“Ah… Don’t be like that, professor. Everything you do interests me.” Those arms squeeze him tighter, and then Anaxagoras’s feet don’t touch the ground. Like this, lifted in the air with Phainon’s hands quickly moving to secure his lower back and rear, it’s impossible to look anywhere else but Phainon’s bright blue eyes. “I love hearing about everything you do, you know that. I remember you mentioning some experiments before I left. Have you been working on those? I’m free the rest of the day; I can help you with the farm!”

Ah. Well…

(A flash of the excitement he had felt, the desire to show Phainon.)

“…yes.”

Phainon huffs a laugh. “Am I allowed to have more details than that? I promise I’ll be the best listener and student you’ve ever had. See, I even brought a notepad!”

A small notepad is pulled from the breast pocket of Phainon’s shirt and waved in his face. He absentmindedly finds himself impressed at how Phainon can do that while still holding him as he takes a closer look at the small object.

“You’ve been carrying that around for this exact moment, haven’t you?” He observes, noting the slightly bent corners of an otherwise brand-new notebook.

“Is it embarrassing if I say yes?”

“This isn’t a class, Phainon; you don’t have to take notes.” He chides, but Phainon only smiles in response.

“I know, I know. It’s just that… Well, you say amazing things, and I want to write them down so I can understand them; that’s all. I also like to tell the faeries what you say, and sometimes I get things mixed up.”

Oh.

Oh. That’s… Oh.

He tries to fight the heat that threatens to color his cheeks. “...very well then, do what you want. Now put me down.”

“Aw, but I like carrying you, Professor~” Phainon laughs as he jostles Anaxagoras.

“Phainon of Aedes Elysiae!”

“Hehe, whoops~!” And then he’s put down on the ground, which he is very grateful for. After he fixes a glare on the younger man, Phainon smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head. “I’ll behave, I promise! I wish to help on the farm today, if you need me.”

“I do, in fact.” He comments idly. “I was glad you were here today, but I’m second-guessing that now.” He tacks on dryly.

“You are?” Like the eager puppy needing constant attention that he is, Phainon’s early worry has completely disappeared as he completely ignores the second half of Anaxagoras’s last statement.

“Yes. There’s something I want to show you. Come,” he directs, turning on his heel to lead Phainon to the experimental plots. They are a way down the field and separated from the other plots in order to make sure that neither area affects the other.

“Oh? Are you going to show me what…you’ve been… Professor, those are huge! What?!” Phainon cries out as he grabs Anaxagoras’ shoulders, pulling him close. The movement has him blinking, unsure how to react.

“Awoo! Uwawa~”

“Iwi!”

“Oh! Hey little buddy, hey Nanus!” Phainon greets the chimeras quickly before returning his attention to— “Are these really pumpkins?”

“They are. I cannot currently speak to the nature of their cooking properties, but Fig Stew oversaw the collection of some slices and is taking them to Mydei, so I will know by this evening if this experiment was a success.”

“Mmhm, mhmm, I see, I see.” Those warm hands leave his shoulders, and he doesn’t need to turn his head to know Phainon is scribbling in his tiny notebook. “And you know, professor, even if they aren’t, there’s a ton of us who would love to use them as Jack-O-Lanterns! I think the chimeras could even make homes out of them.”

“Hm, that is true. I hadn’t thought about their usage as decor. As for being a home… It wouldn’t be impossible to alter them to have a hardened exterior that isn’t edible while the inside still is to harvest its seeds. Perhaps I will work on that if this experiment is a success. However, if Mydei isn’t able to use them, then I will have to go back to the drawing board.” He mutters, removing his portable tool pouch from his belt and taking out a small scraper. With ‌slight pressure, he begins to scratch the side of the pumpkin closest to him.

Its shell is exactly what he would expect from a normal pumpkin, even if this one was at least four times the average size for the crop. (Exact measurements would have to come at a later time, when Small Group finished their notes and comparisons.) He had quickly cooked one of its seeds earlier to compare to the average cooked pumpkin seed, and while the giant pumpkin seeds did have a slightly thicker shell and took longer to cook, the flavor profile was notably the same. He wonders if perhaps growing them in the spring or summer greenhouse would—

“Hey, Anaxa?” He looks up from the giant pumpkin, slightly embarrassed that he got caught up in his work with Phainon right there, especially after he said he needed his help. He can feel heat rise to his face as he stands up straight and takes a few steps back from the plot, coming back to stand next to Phainon, who he notes is now several pages deep in his tiny notebook and is now drawing a diagram of… Fig Stew in a chef’s hat cooking something….

He thinks…

Phainon isn’t the best when it comes to art, but it’s still very cute. Shaking his head to collect himself, he looks up at Phainon and—

Oh, that grin. That grin that hinted at the true menace behind the sweet smile Phainon wore. The one that Anaxagoras had learned quickly meant trouble for him.

“Yes, Phainon?”

“You know…the Calamity Festival is coming up. Has anyone told you about it?”

“Yes.”

“So…”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to join, right?”

Anaxagoras tilts his head to the side. “Why would I?”

“Because it’ll be fun! And this pumpkin is amazing!” Phainon exclaimed as he gestured toward the pumpkin.

He raises an eyebrow. “I was under the impression I had to make a display to enter.”

“Well…”

“Phainon.”

“I think we should enter! Since you seemed apprehensive about the display part when I mentioned it last time, I can handle that part. With your crops and my lifelong knowledge of past winners, we will win for sure!”

He thinks about the offer for a second, the offer sounding very tempting. While he wouldn’t mind showing his horticulture skills off, he feels like this would create an unfair advantage. Even when he had been told how…eventful it was in prior years, he doubted bringing a giant pumpkin would be as entertaining and story worthy as, say, Cipher replacing every apple one year with a fake one and letting the villagers take a bite of the winning display.

Phainon continues to look at him, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Thank you, but I am fine not entering. I am not one for festivities, as I have said in the past. But thank you, again, for the invite.” He tries to say the words as gently as possible, another rejection to the already mounting list of rejections he’s given Phainon over the seasons.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend time with Phainon, because despite what he says, Phainon does make for good company; it’s just that these gatherings are not his thing. He’s used to being alone, even during The Grove’s many, many festivals and fairs. His company has always been his work, and it has become his solace as well. And while he may not have much of his work here, this farm has become an equivalent replacement for the research he had left behind, thinking he would return to it in a short manner.

“---to Professor! Earth to—”

“I can hear you,” he deadpans.

“He’s back!” Phainon grins before the curve of his lips falls slightly. “Everything okay? I’m sorry if I offended or upset you…”

“Yes, I am fine. Just…remembering home, that’s all.” He shrugs, going back to look at the giant pumpkin. “And no, you did not offend me. It should be me apologizing for always rejecting your offers.”

“It’s okay, Professor! Don’t worry about it.” But behind that cheerful smile and those bright eyes, Anaxagoras can see the disappointment that lurks beneath the calm ocean.

“You say that now,” he starts, but Phainon cuts him off. It’s not something he does often, so Anaxagoras finds himself raising his eyebrow.

The white-haired man grins, giving him a thumbs up. “I mean it! Really, it’s not a big deal. Castorice didn’t start coming to festivals until she was a teen, and Mydei has to be dragged to the ones that don’t have any form of competition. So, really, it’s okay. Promise! But you know…”

Phainon hums, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “I heard Lady Aglaea was going to be participating in the Calamity Festival this year…”

Ah… But he will not be fooled. He had a feeling Phainon was going to reveal his trump card. After all, there was no reason for Aglaea to mention she would be competing this year when they met just a few days ago. “That will not work on me again, Phainon. At the moment, Aglaea and I have agreed to a three-week truce for the sake of finalizing the Season of Calamity Bundle needed for the Community Center. According to Cyrene and the faeries, our…disagreements during the Season of Creation Bundle presentation slightly weakened the quality of the submitted goods. So for the sake of the Valley, we have agreed to be civil to each other for the last week and a half of the season.”

“Ah shucks. I thought I would have had you with that.” Phainon pouts as he kicks the ground. “Well…”

And before Anaxa can react, Phainon’s much larger ones grabbed his hands. “What if I told you that it would make me really really really happy if we could enter together? I usually enter with my parents and our wheat crops but…”

Anaxagoras knows he needs to look away but those bright blue eyes start to glisten, and Phainon’s expression starts to morph into that puppy-like pout and—

“It would make me really happy if we could enter together, Anaxagoras. With the pumpkin you grew, the wheat I’ve helped you with, and some other crops we’ve grown together, it would be the perfect combination of both our work, wouldn’t you agree?”

・・・

Ah.

He is weak.

He is a fool.

He is a very weak fool when it comes to one man…

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Season of Calamity 28, XX37

So, against his better judgment, he enters the contest…with Phainon. While he did dread the day of the event, he found himself greatly enjoying the work that went into the preparations. What he found most enjoyable were the lessons Phainon imparted to him, seemingly not realizing he had taken on a teaching role. It’s no wonder that the chimeras often sought the young man out to learn new things or go adventuring with him if this is how he taught. It made the process enjoyable, and, as usual, it was nice to work alongside Phainon.

Which he says to the man as they browse the other contestants' displays while judging happens.

“Aw shucks, Professor,” Phainon says as he rubs the back of his head, cheeks a soft pink. “I really like spending time with you too, you know. And just you wait, you’ll come with me to the mines before you know it, and by next year, you’ll be joining me on my island trips. There’s a witch I occasionally see who I think you would really get along with.”

In lieu of answering, he merely nods.

Next year…

There’s another part of the reason Anaxagoras has been avoiding these festivals, along with the Friday night gatherings at Mydei’s saloon and the Saturday gathering at the slowly being repaired community center. It’s not that they aren't mean people; they don’t shun him or treat him differently… It’s just that Anaxagoras knows his time in the Valley… It won’t be for much longer now, and he doesn’t want to build connections he will inevitably break by returning to his house and work. This was only meant to be a favor to Cerces after all, and while he will admit he got carried away… The Grove has been his life for a long, long time… It’s time for him to return.

It wouldn’t be this season, as it’s nearly over, and certainly not in the winter, but come next spring, he believes it will be time to move—

“---goras and Phainon of Nousporist Farm!”

What?

“We did it! Professor, we did it!” He’s once again in the air (and just when this habit came to be he doesn’t know) and spun around. He can feel all the eyes on him, but he ignores them like he’s always done, but it’s harder this time with how…knowledgeable all their gazes feel. “Your giant pumpkin won!”

“Yes, it did,” he answered as his mind caught up with the environment, then added, “but it was your decorations and additions that helped it along to be presentable. They called our farm and both our names after all.”

Because he will always give credit where credit is due, and the centerpiece was made by both of them.

But that doesn’t explain why Phainon’s expression morphs into something he can’t read, and suddenly all those gazes on them feel heavier and heavier. It doesn’t explain why he sees Phainon’s lips move to mouth something. He opens his mouth to ask why Phainon looks like that, to ask what he’s saying, but they are interrupted by Aglaea and Cerydra coming up to them with a bag, ruining his chance to ask.

The bag is their prize tokens for first place. Neither he nor Phainon are truly interested in them, and instead they are given to Beagle Coconut and Nanus. The two chimeras run off to go spend them, or to be more accurate, Beagle Coconut runs off with Nanus on his back as the mint chimera holds the bag in his mouth. He watches them for a moment while Phainon talks to Aglaea and Cerydra, and then soon enough the two women are gone, and Phainon is at his side once again.

“I still can’t believe we won,” Phainon exhales, still a little red in the face from his excitement. “...I’m really happy we got to do this, Anaxagoras. Shall I walk you home now?”

Ah yes. That.

He had told Phainon that after the results, he would be returning home with the excuse of avoiding lingering in the cold for too long. Phainon had accepted that, simply asking if he could walk Anaxagoras home.

“...I suppose I can stay for a bit. Nanus is here after all, and I would prefer to have him come home with me at the same time.” It’s a lame excuse, one he fears might be easily seen through.

The truth is that he finds himself wanting to spend more time with Phainon. More time with him outside of the farm, outside of “work”.

“R-really? That’s great! I mean, um, wow, um, I guess I can… Um…” Phainon stumbles over his words, and Anaxagoras decides to throw him a bone.

He looks up at Phainon, letting a small smile quirk his lips up. “I wouldn’t mind company, someone to show me around. This is my first Calamity festival, after all. But only if you’re free, that is. I know that you are quite popular around here.”

Phainon’s eyes grow large. “Um, yes! Yes, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae is free! Let’s start with some hot cider and then go see the dromases!”

He’s pulled along by a large hand capturing his smaller one and has the fleeting thought that he never wanted to let go.

(They ended up spending the entire rest of the festival with the dromases. One of the babies has decided to come visit, and when he and Phainon had gone to leave to see the rest of the festival, the little one had cried and cried until Anaxagoras returned to its side. So the rest of the afternoon and evening had been spent feeding and playing with the dromases, checking them over to make sure they were all well.

When he had apologized to Phainon for not making it around the festival as Phainon walked him home, the man had only smiled.)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Season of Fate XX37

The Season of Calamity soon ends and the Season of Fate begins.

And as usual, the season passes slowly, as winters tend to do. When he was teaching, he found himself with more free time during the winter season, and that free time always seemed to be getting longer and longer each year. (Sadly, the work that got done during that time didn’t seem to match how long the winter felt like it lasted, but time was weird like that.)

It’s also been the easiest season he’s found to revert back to his old ways, before moving to the Valley.

With it being winter and snow covering the ground since the first day of the season, he’d elected to not plant anything new, instead focusing on the greenhouses that he had finally perfected. It had taken a bit more out of him than he had expected it to, his alchemy skills rapidly evolving to match the ebbs and flows of the Valley, but finally he had perfected his greenhouses. Madam Gorgo had been impressed, and after agreeing to a fair trade of new chimera homes on the southern part of his farm come the spring, she had walked away from his farm with the blueprints to make miniature greenhouses for indoor and outdoor purposes.

That had been the last time Anaxagoras had been out of his home as the snow finally began its continuous fall. He had stockpiled plenty of food, blankets, and supplies, and if he needed to, a few chimeras had offered their services to bring him supplies and hot meals from town. Every day since, he had been working tirelessly on his plans for the spring, on how to set up the farm for optimal crop growth between the normal and giant crops, streamlining and optimizing the chimera’s work routines, and sorting out what needed to be done to finish the remaining tasks needed to complete the Community Center. The days begun to blur after the third day, when he had shut the curtains to his home and worked until he could work no more.

(There was also the other matter of the season he was pointedly ignoring as he continued to work in solitude—his health. Winters were always bad for him. He felt every ache and every scar more acutely in the winter than he normally did. His headaches were worse, making it hard to focus, especially when the sun reflected off the snow. Hyacine had been the first face he had seen on the first day of winter, even before he had seen Nanus, who lived with him. In her arms and also on Little Ica’s back were bags and satchels of herbs, teas, and medicines to help him through the winter. They hadn’t even talked about his health problems since his first week in the Valley—when he had thought he had sprained his wrist—but fondness wells up in his chest as the young woman barges into his home to set everything up and tell Anaxagoras everything he needed to know about what she had brought and that he needed to remember to take the herbs even when he was working.)

Which he was doing right now. With the chimera tasks optimized for now, Anaxagoras had finally decided to tackle one of the tasks he had been dreading for some time now—the fruit trees.

He had neglected them the prior few seasons, focusing on crop growth, but with the new year coming and all crops managed and planned, it seemed like now was the perfect—

Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock knock.

—time to integrate them into the farm layout—

Knock knock! Knock knock!

—while also possibly adding some deep into the forest next to his farm for the chimeras to snack on while they play and hunt—

Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock! Knock knock!

“I’m coming!” He yells, slamming his pen down. “It’s late”, he thinks as he looks at the clock for the first time in…fifteen hours.

Whoops.

Knock knock! Knock knock!

“One moment!” He closed his notebook and stood up slowly, moving quickly to the door to send whoever wouldn’t stop knocking away.

Knock knock! Knock knock!

Pausing for a moment to collect himself for both a verbal lashing at whoever is on the other side of his door and also for the blast of cold air that’s about to hit him, he takes one deep breath in, lets it out, and opens the door.

Only to see—

“Phainon?”

“Anaxagoras!” Phainon cries out, pushing his way into Anaxagoras’s home as Anaxagoras stumbles back, the door slamming closed behind him. Phainon doesn’t stop there though, making his way into Anaxagoras’s space and reaching for him, pulling him tightly to his chest once he’s got his hands on him. “Oh thank Kephale, oh thank Kephale. I was so scared. I was so scared…”

He wants to reprimand Phainon for touching him while he’s covered in snow and his jacket is as cold as it was outside, but he gets a brief look at Phainon’s expression and the bags under his eyes and— “Phainon? Phainon, what’s wrong?”

“I was so scared… Anaxa…” Somehow, he’s held even tighter. Has something happened in the village?

“...Phainon?” Anaxa asks again, voice wavering. He feels like he should do something with his hands, but they just lie limp at his sides.

“...you’re okay… I’m so glad… I was so scared… I was…” The rest is mumbled inaudibly in Anaxagoras’s hair as Phainon continues to tightly hold him.

・・・

It takes some effort, but he does manage to maneuver Phainon over to the couch and get him to sit. The entire time, Phainon’s grip does not loosen. He tries to escape Phainon’s arms to make tea or cocoa or another hot drink, but Phainon refuses to let him go. So he awkwardly sits in Phainon’s lap as he’s held onto for dear life.

“Phainon, did something happen?” He tries again. He has already asked the question ‌half a dozen times, but he has yet to get a response.

“...”

“Phainon, please. Tell me what’s wrong.” He presses again, this time raising his hands to gently run through damp locks. Most of the snow has melted off, but some small clumps remain, and he quickly brushes them out of white hair.

“...I was so scared, Anaxa…” Phainon says again, squeezing him and burying his face further in Anaxagoras’s chest. “I hadn’t heard from you, and when I returned yesterday, everyone said they hadn’t seen you since the first day of the Season of Fate. And the winters here are so bad I got so worried something might have happened to you and I tried to rationalize that you are so smart that you would have it all figured out so I went back home and went to bed but then I had a nightmare that you weren’t okay and I had to… I had to… Thank Kephale, you’re okay.”

“...” He doesn’t know what to say. All he can really say is, “I am, Phainon. I am alright. Forgive me for not contacting you. I…”

“Anaxa?”

“I was working. I won’t apologize for that, but I am sorry I frightened you.” He continues to run his hands through Phainon’s hair as a memory briefly overtakes him.

(It all started just before winter last year, when he woke up bleary-eyed in his office to see Cerces, his old mentor, glaring at him over her tea. And what he refused to admit at that moment was that what he saw in Cerces’ all-knowing eyes was the immense fear that she was carefully trying to hide from.

“Anaxagoras.”)

“...but you’re okay?” Phainon’s hands loosen a little from their no doubt white-knuckled grip on the back of his sweater.

“I am,” he says. “I’m a little tired, though. When you knocked, I hadn’t realized I had been working for over twenty hours.”

Phainon’s head snaps up to look at him. “Anaxa! That’s a long time; you need to rest!”

“I am, I will be.” He soothes. “In fact, I think it would serve us both well to get some sleep now, don’t you think?”

“Oh… Um...can I—” Phainon starts, then stops. However, Anaxagoras knows what he wants to ask.

“Of course. Let me get you some blankets and pillows, and we can pull the couch out.”

“No need!” Phainon springs up, taking Anaxagoras along with him. “I can do it! You rest.”

He’s put down in his armchair a moment later. He wants to protest, Phainon is a guest after all, but he can see the echoes of stress in Phainon’s bright eyes, see how his mouth is still pulled a little tight, how his jaw is set. So instead—

“When you wake in the morning, stay. I will make us breakfast.”

And the smile he gets in return has his heart skipping a beat.

・・・

It turns out, breakfast may have been a bad idea. Not for the company, that’s for sure, but that it gives Phainon the perfect time to try to convince Anaxagoras to attend another festival. In fact, he’s being bribed with dromas-shaped pancakes and fresh strawberries from the greenhouse.

(And hadn’t that been something that brought heat to Anaxagoras’s face. After he had washed the strawberries, Phainon had turned to him from where he was standing in front of the oven, and had pointed to his mouth.

“My hands are kinda busy and I’m hungry. Feed me?”)

He should have known the man was up to something, but he would never turn down dromas-shaped pancakes.

(They had first been used as an apology in early summer, when Phainon had excitedly been showing snowy, his family dog, around the farm. The Samoyed had been so happy to meet someone new that he had knocked Anaxagoras over, right into a plot of golden wheat. Phainon had dived after him, apologizing over and over, and that evening for dessert, Anaxagoras had been treated to the fluffiest pancakes he had ever eaten, shaped like dromases.)

“...please…will you go with me?” Phainon looks at him, blue eyes wide and bottom lip wobbling.

“...”

“I promise it’ll be worth your while, Professor. I heard a rumor there’s going to be a dromas-themed booth and games at the Night Market this year, and Mydei mentioned he’s even making some dromas-themed snacks. I also talked to Aglaea and Madam Gorgo, and they put a table off to the side so you can—” Phainon babbles. It shouldn’t be cute, but it is.

He internally sighs and gives in. “I’ll go, Phainon.”

“—have some priv…acy… Really?!” The hands holding his clench even tighter in Phainon’s excitement.

“Yes, I’ll go. But only for the dromases.” He tries to joke, but he fears it falls flat. So, he offers the truth. “And because you asked me to go. For you, Phainon, I will go.”

He’s pulled close to Phainon’s chest again, squeezed tightly with all of Phainon’s strength.

・・・

It dawns on him a few days later, on a snowy winter night.

It dawns on him as the sun rises after a night of turmoil and catches on snow-white hair that peaks out from the blanket as Phainon sleeps on his couch again.

It dawns on him…that this has been a long time coming.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Afternoon, Season of Fate 30, XX37

Festive tidings and meaningless gifts.

That is what this day, the Feast of the Titans, is about, as Aglaea had told him during their last meeting. A last little thing to end the year with a bit of happiness and joy, she had mentioned while they both reached for the last piece of apple pie at Night Market a few days prior. Of course, the pie slice hadn’t gone to either of them—Cerydra showing up out of the blue to claim it—but that hadn’t moved them from their conversation.

(“It’s nothing serious, Anaxagoras, so do not stress too much about it.”

“You make it sound like I am participating, when I am not. The Calamity Festival was—”

“Because a certain someone asked you to, yes yes.” That woman had said as she demurely drank from her herbal tea. “And I have no doubt you will participate in this event as well.”

“You seem awfully sure for someone about to be proven wrong.” He challenged, only to eat his words a second later when she handed him his giftee for the Feast of the Titans.

“As I was saying, it’s nothing too serious. Meaningless gifts, that’s all they are. Cerydra has been getting whoever she got fish-themed socks since I can remember. Cipher gives out chocolate coins that she ends up eating, Mydei makes the person their favorite snack, I crochet a small blanket for my giftee for their chimera. Hysilens makes a shanty about her giftee’s accomplishments and Castorice makes flowercrowns for hers. A simple and personal gift, but without any deeper meaning in the grand scheme of the day after. Don’t think too much of it, Professor.” Aglaea ended her sentence by taking one of the pear tarts from the table and turning away from him. He had expected her to promptly walk away, but instead she kept her gaze forward as she spoke her parting advice. “Unless, of course, you want it to mean more. And I think we are all well aware that he would like that. Wouldn’t you agree, Anaxagoras?”)

So he had thought about it for a day and quickly decided on what he was going to get Phainon. A meaningless, simple gift, he told himself as he opened the trunk that held all his research and dug around in it. He ended up having to empty it entirely to find what he was looking for, but he was successful in the end.

His last unused leather-bound journal. It was the style he had custom-ordered over the years, with a cover and paper strong enough to handle the stress and mess he put his notes through.

Meaningless gifts.

Something to put a smile on someone’s face. A pair of funny socks, a plate of badly shaped cookies, a chimera plushie. A shanty, a flowercrown. Something meaningless but heartfelt nevertheless. The meaningful gifts are saved for the early hours of the following day. A journal to keep one’s notes about his crops, about the local mine, about the islands he visits, isn’t much…

Meaningless gifts.

But everything he does is with meaning. Everything he says, creates, and does holds meaning. And even if he weren’t such a person, when it comes to this one man, he would never do something without meaning.

So when Phainon shows up at the appointed time written on the card he left for him, he has two options.

The one where he chickens out and hands over the gift he had prepared, or the one where—

But he is Anaxagoras the Foolish, Anaxagoras the Blasphemer.

He is Anaxagoras, who does not chicken out because he feels out of his depth.

・・・

The moon is high when Phainon makes his way to him, slowly walking down the main path to the farm. The crunching of snow under his feet seems so loud as it echoes in the night. Even though he’s still far away, he can see how tightly wound Phainon is, how he keeps his gaze trained to the ground. At his feet, Beagle Coconut bounces around, impatient. On the chimera’s back is his trusty backpack, a gift from Nanus a season or so ago, and Anaxagoras can see the hint of a bow peaking out.

But when they get closer, passing that invisible line that marks the change from the trail to Nousporist Farm, Beagle Coconut lets out a loud awoo! and runs forward at max speed, only one goal in mind. At his side, Nanus lets out a mighty huff and slowly makes his way over to the house, where his own gift for Beagle Coconut awaits. It’s not long before the chimeras are out of sight, leaving just him standing just shy of the first row of farming plots and Phainon still slowly making his way toward the heart of the farm.

Time seems to slow as Phainon walks toward him, and he has two choices.

No, there’s only ever been one choice.

When Phainon gets close enough to where Anaxagoras can see just a hint of the bright blue of his eyes and the little sun pin that’s always on his clothes, Anaxagoras’s decision is firm.

When Phainon finally looks up at him, begins speaking to him, there’s a dull roar in his ears. Then Anaxagoras nods once, turns on his heel, and runs.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Evening, Season of Fate 30, XX37

Tonight was the night Phainon’s been dreading the most, ever since he slipped and fell into the mud and made a complete fool of himself the first day he ever met Anaxa.

Tonight…tonight, he will ask Anaxa to enter a courtship with him. He, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae Valley, will ask Anaxagoras of The Grove if he would like to maybe one day marry him.

It was a silly tradition, one that was as old as the Valley. It wasn’t taken as seriously these days, not like it used to be. He knows Mr. Eurypon and Madam Gorgo didn’t do all the outings and dating stuff, instead choosing to fight ten times and deciding on that tenth fight if they would marry. He knows Mydei is deciding if he wants to stick with tradition or make his own path. He knows Hyacine is sticking to tradition as well.

But… But Anaxa wasn’t born in the Valley and doesn’t know their traditions. So along with Phainon’s first gift (a handcarved dromas figure he had been working on for weeks), he also brought along an annotated copy of Aedes Elysiae Valley traditions for him to read. It’s wrapped as well, tied up with a neat bow and a hand cut dromas shaped tag with Anaxa’s name on it. He’s already planned on how he’ll offer it to him, citing that he noticed Anaxa didn’t have any books about the Valley on his bookshelf when he was looking over it when he had spent the night that first time. A simple, harmless, friendly gesture. Nothing more, nothing less.

He would offer the book and ask him on an outing to the Faerie Forest. The second step to courtship…

Still, even with his plan, he’s still jittery as he walks the well-worn path to Anaxa’s farm, gift in hand. At his feet, Beagle Coconut cheerily walks next to him, completely unaware of Phainon’s inner turmoil as he happily awoos and iwis, no doubt excited to see Nanus.

As usual, the trip doesn’t last long and Anaxa’s farmhouse comes quickly into sight, the man and Nanus standing a few feet away from their home. He lifts his hand to wave while Beagle Coconut sprints at full speed toward the mint-colored chimera. As they ran inside the house, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his heart, a little split second of yearning. But he quickly tucks those feelings away as he gets closer to Anaxa.

“I’m here, Anaxa~ It’s been some time, hasn’t it?” He jokes, when in reality it’s only been about an hour since he had last seen Anaxa.

But Anaxa doesn’t respond. No… Anaxa tilts his head as if assessing him and—

And… And… Anaxa runs.

Phainon watches in what feels like slow-motion as Anaxa turns away from him and sprints toward the forest that guards the farm from the weather of the mountain pass. For a moment, Phainon’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest in anguish. Had he messed up? But then… But then Anaxa turns his head toward him just a bit, just enough for Phainon to see the smirk quirking up the corner of Anaxa’s thin lips and Phainon’s heart jumps.

He takes a step forward, then another, then another, but before he can move to a full sprint, he remembers the item in his hand and places it on the table on the porch. He also removes his backpack as well. He takes a split second to peek into Anaxa’s home to see Beagle Coconut jumping around and throwing paper in the air while Nanus looks at him from his place in front of the fireplace. With a nod to himself, he takes careful steps down the stairs, shifts from foot to foot, and then moves.

・・・

The run had honestly been a blur to him; his only focus was maintaining that precious mint color in his field of vision as he chased Anaxa through the forest. This part, the run, was different for everyone. More commonly, it was known as the chase, something that wasn’t meant to be taken literally. It was the meaning behind it that was the most important. The push and pull, the trust, the knowing. The idea that no matter what your intended love did, you would be there to chase after them, to never truly be out of their sight. He remembers the story from his parents, how their chase involved wheat fields and a single forget-me-not. He remembers how Miss Gorgo happily recounted her months’ worth of clashes with Mr. Eurypon.

And Phainon… Phainon was never sure how his own chase would happen, and hadn't really thought much about it as he grew older. But then Anaxagoras had turned from him after inviting him over after the Feast of the Titans and Phainon just knew that this was it. That this was his chase because it felt right.

He jumps over tree roots and around bushes, always keeping part of Anaxa’s long hair in sight. The fairy lights above them, a task he and Anaxa had worked on in the early fall as the days grew shorter, twinkled above him while their lights shone off the snow. A pretty distraction, but he kept his focus. He needed to focus.

He pauses for a moment when he sees mint hair flutter to his right. If he remembers correctly…that path takes a turn that leads back to the entrance of the forest, and a connection point to that path happens to be just a few trees behind him. So quickly backtracking, he ducks under a few vines and quickly makes his way toward his destination.

Only to see Anaxa taking a sharp turn to the left. He races after him, the distance between them finally closing. The path ahead is fairly even, so he’s able to focus more on Anaxa and not—

“Gotcha~” Phainon croons as he wraps his arms around Anaxa’s tiny waist and lifts him up from the ground, turning him to face Phainon as he does. The man, who usually makes some sort of yelp or hiss, just hums.

“Oh? Or perhaps, I have you. Right where I want you.” He blinks at that, then blinks again as something other than moonlight and faint yellow lights enters his field of vision. He looks up from Anaxa’s heavy gaze to see—

“What…is this?”

“A place, only for us,” Anaxa says as he rests his cold hands on Phainon’s face. “Put me down and let me show you.”

And show him around Anaxa does…for all of probably four minutes before Phainon had spotted what was obviously a bed made of blankets and pillows and promptly dropped down into it, bringing Anaxa with him. The yelp Anaxa gives out makes him giddy and before he knows it, before he can even think about what he was doing and the consequences of it, he gently places a hand on the back of Anaxa’s head and pulls him closer for a kiss. It’s not too scandalous, just a gentle press of lips, but soon his brain catches up and he pulls back, apology on his lips.

“I’m so so—” but he doesn’t get to finish before Anaxa’s cool hands find his cheeks and pull him in for another kiss.

In that instant, he is suddenly aware of how imperfect his body is when Anaxa’s hands smooth down face to glide over his throat and across his revealed collarbone, landing on his shoulders.

(And Phainon knows his hands aren’t the smoothest, that his lips are chapped, that his body is scarred and burned. Before now, it’s never been an issue, something he’s never thought about for more than a split second a day when he looks at himself in the mirror in the morning as he gets dressed.

Now, however, he is acutely aware of every scar, burn, and blemished part of his body.)

He tries to pull back, to perhaps apologize for something he knows he doesn’t need to, when Anaxa separates from him to speak only one word before pulling him in for another kiss.

“Perfect.”

And then Phainon loses himself to the kiss, to the kisses. Over and over again, only coming up for air. In those moments where they gasp and inhale the cold winter air, Phainon lets himself look away from his love to take in the space that Anaxa has made for them. He takes in the lights and star decorations that encircle the space, takes in the small table with a pretty lamp on it. He takes in what must be special heaters, making the space feel like it’s inside and not out in the forest in the middle of winter. He takes in the chimes of different colors on every tree that surrounds the hideaway and realizes that the area has also been blessed.

That the Valley has blessed him in this moment with the one thing he loves so dearly.

He doesn’t know what possessed him at that moment. Perhaps it was the aftereffects of the chase, perhaps it was the notion of this moment being blessed, perhaps it was Anaxa’s cold hands on his neck, perhaps it was Anaxa’s chapped lips sliding against his, but all he knew was that he needed more.

More.

He wasn’t a greedy man, even if people often joked he was. He knew what he was doing with Anaxa was playing the long, slow game, a grand chase, but he also knew his time was running out.

He also knew that this perhaps would be the only time he would be able to savor the morsel that was sitting in his lap.

Out of his typical dress shirt and overalls, it was easy for Phainon to find access to the smooth skin of his soon to be lover. With gentle caresses, he smoothed his hands down Anaxa’s back until he met the edge of his trousers and slipped his fingers up underneath Anaxa’s knit sweater. Immediately, a shiver ran through Anaxa’s body, mesmerizing Phainon.

“Oh…”

“Cheeky brat…” Anaxa hissed as he shivered again. “Your fingers are cold.”

“Then warm me up?” Slipped through his lips, stunning him and Anaxa both.

“Giving up and resorting to cheap pickup lines now, are you? You haven’t even begun yet.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not giving up, that just slipped out!” He tries to defend himself, but the smirk on Anaxa’s lips tells him he fell for the teasing.

“If you say so, if you say so.” Anaxa teases, running his hands through Phainon’s hair. “But…”

“But…”

“I wouldn’t mind, if you wanted to. I… It feels right, at this moment, to be as close to you as I can be,” Anaxa says softly, as he licks his lips. “I want…to be as close to you as possible in this moment.”

Words leave him as Anaxa carries on. And for the first time ever, Phainon hears his ever articulate Anaxa babble.

“I was told about today some weeks ago and I did get you as my giftee. Meaningless gifts, that’s what I was told was what today is about. But I can’t, I can’t. I tried but I can’t do meaningless with you, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. Every day we have spent together has been you wedging yourself more and more into my heart that you officially have your own space. I have a gift for you, my last empty journal for you to use for your notes, and it’s still yours, but… I also want to give you all of me. And I realize how that sounds but I love—“

He leans down to capture Anaxa’s lips in a kiss, pouring his feelings into it. He pulls back and presses in again and again and again. Each kiss hopefully conveys every ounce of affection he has for the other man.

Between each kiss, he mumbles those three words over and over.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

And somewhere, in between those kisses, they’ve moved so Anaxa is under him, caged in by Phainon’s arms. He pulls back a little farther after another desperate kiss to admire his lover, but isn’t given much time to admire Anaxa before he’s being pulled back down and kissed again.

He jolts a little when he feels fingers wrap around his wrists, worried he’s done something wrong, when Anaxa pulls away from their kiss and smirks at him, eye gleaming in the moonlight from above. “Go ahead, Phainon. Don’t hold back, not tonight.”

And his hands are moved to rest low on Anaxa’s slim waist. In an instant, he’s kissing Anaxa again, reaching around to push his hands under his sweater once more. This time, he uses one hand to push the sweater up while the other stays splayed on Anaxa’s lower back. Deepening the kiss they are in, he pushes Anaxa closer to his chest, causing his back to arch. Like this, he can feel every minute shake of Anaxa’s body against his, knowing that it’s his ministrations and not the cold that’s being kept at bay by the portable magicked heaters around the small space.

He keeps kissing Anaxa, tongue swiping against his lips to gain access, something quickly given. The first swipe of his tongue against Anaxa’s has the man trembling even harder in his arms. The kiss deepens, getting sloppier and sloppier by the second, and he needs more, he craves more, he—

“Ah! Phainon!” Echoes in his ears as Anaxa tips his head back to moan. “S-slow down…! T-too hard…! Slow down…!”

He blinks at the words, confused, until his brain catches up with his body and he realizes just what he’s been doing. But even then, that doesn’t stop him from continuing his fast and heavy grinding against Anaxa. In fact, it only makes him speed up, to press harder, just to watch Anaxa squirm in his arms, watch him arch his back even higher, watch him bite his lips as he tries to hide his moans.

“P-Phainon…”

“I’m right here, Anaxagoras. I’m right here,” he says as he pulls the man into another kiss. This time, he keeps the kiss soft and sweet, the complete opposite of the touching and dirty humping he’s doing. It thrills him, sends licks of heat down his spine, to see what he’s doing to his lover, but he wants more. He needs more.

After all, this may be his only chance.

He’s not been blind to it, but he’s been in denial of one simple fact—soon, probably come the new year, Anaxa will move away and go back to where he came from, back to The Grove. And Phainon…he would follow him anywhere, even without being asked, but he knows that his responsibilities here in the Valley would cause issues.

So if this is the only chance he gets to be one with Anaxa, he wants everything he can get, everything Anaxa will give him.

So as he pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead against Anaxa’s, he asks for permission. Asks if he can make love to Anaxa, to be one with him.

The smile he gets, an expression he’s never seen before on Anaxa’s face, threatens to cause his heart to burst from his chest.

And then that one word is all he needs to hear before he’s diving back down for another kiss.

He picks up his teasing a little, nipping at Anaxa’s lips, swiping at this tongue. All the while, the hand not holding Anaxa against him smooths down Anaxa’s spine, caressing each knob along the way, until his fingers meet the fabric of Anaxa’s slacks. He teases his way around the band until his fingers meet the button, quickly slipping it through the hole and pulling down the zip. With some effort, he slides both the slacks and Anaxa’s dromas-themed boxer (so cute!) down the man’s thighs until they catch around his knees. But that won’t do, so begrudgingly he pulls back from Anaxa to strip him of his pants and shoes, leaving him in only his sweater and dromas-themed socks.

“Greedy pup,” Anaxa comments as Phainon nuzzles his cheek as he pulls down his own pants, leaving his purple boxers on for now.

“For you? Always. The thought of not seeing your face while we make love… I can’t stand the thought.” And before Anaxa can retort, Phainon swoops down to kiss him again.

This time, though, he gently lowers himself down, settling himself between Anaxa’s thighs and pulling the man up to sit on his lap. Anaxa lets out a startled moan at the movement, which is quickly swallowed up by another kiss. Like this, it’s easy to see just how beautiful Anaxa is under the moonlight.

Especially so when his eye opens wide and he pulls away to gasp when Phainon draws one finger up his cock, just to tease him a little.

“P-Phainon! Don’t…! Hah… Hah…” Phainon gets a bite to the chin as well, as Anaxa pants against his cheek.

“But I love teasing you, and now I can tease you more. So sensitive, my love.” He coos. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of your reactions.”

He swallows Anaxa’s reply as he kisses him again, tongue slipping past parted lips. It’s endearing and very erotic how easily Anaxa falls prey to kissing, something Phainon knows he will be taking advantage of as often as he can. But that is later, and this is now, and Phainon feels that hunger in him growing. A hunger that has been present since that winter day, one that he’s done his absolute best to tamper down.

But he fears that all his hard work is for naught when something cold and hard meets his hand. Looking down, he sees a jar and oh.

“Use it,” is whispered against his lips. “Use it quickly and use it plenty. I can feel you, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.”

“Yes, sir,” he responds, and he puts the jar down and thumbs off the lid. Scooping some of the gel out, he shivers as he thinks about what this leads to.

He finds himself in another kiss, sighing into it. But he doesn’t get to lose himself for long before Anaxa’s hand finds his wrist and pulls it around, guiding his hand down and manipulating his fingers so two fingers—

“Wait…! Wait, I don’t want to hurt you.” He cries out.

“You won’t,” Anaxa says against his lips, gaze soft. “You won’t and you never will. I can take it, Phainon.”

“But I want to go slow… I want to savor you and this time together.” He mumbles, using his free hand to brush a few strands of Anaxa’s hair from his face.

“Oh, Phainon…”

“I love you, Anaxa, I love you so much.” He pleads, putting every ounce of emotion he has into those words.

“I love you, too.” And before Phainon can react, he’s being pulled forward so Anaxa is back against the blankets and Phainon is above him, quickly moving his arm so he doesn’t fall on Anaxa. “So love me and love me, Phainon with every ounce of love you have for me, so that I may return it to you.”

And Phainon does. With gentle pressure, he slips one finger into Anaxa’s tight heat, groaning at the feeling as Anaxa sighs against his shoulder. At Phainon’s begging, Anaxa promised he wouldn’t hide his sounds, and Phainon finds himself nearly drunk off Anaxa’s soft hitches of breath and airy moans. One finger becomes two, two becomes three. More of the lubricant was grabbed because at some point between the second and third finger prepping Anaxa to take him, his boxers had been pushed down to his knees and Anaxa had glared at Phainon until he sought out the tiny jar again. A fourth finger is added for only a moment before Anaxa is gripping his hair tightly and—

“Now, Phainon. Take me and love me now.”

And who is Phainon to disobey such a request?

With a hand bracing the ground next to Anaxa’s head and the other caressing Anaxa’s ruddy cheek, Phainon shudders as Anaxa’s small hands guide his cock to kiss his opening, before one moves up to tap Phainon’s hips as a way to say go ahead as Anaxa shimmies his hips down. And Phainon…so greedy to have all of Anaxa, lets only his cockhead rest inside his lover for one moment, then two moments, then—

“Ah~! Phainon!” He fully slams into that tight heat, uniting them together for the first time. He doesn’t immediately move, half-choking on the tight heat that threatens to send him into an early release and half-delirious with the way Anaxa shivers and shakes underneath him, hands clawing his back as Anaxa seeks some form of purchase to steady himself.

But soon Anaxa’s hands have found their way to resting on his shoulder blades, arms wrapping around Phainon and holding him close. Between them, Anaxa’s leaking cock rubs against Phainon’s chest, ignored but not forgotten. He wonders, as he collects himself, if it’s possible to make Anaxa cum untouched.

When he says as much, he’s met with a glare and he sheepishly smiles back. But his cheeky comment doesn’t ruin the mood, and soon Anaxa’s heel is digging into his back and he’s being told to—

“Move, Phainon. Take me.”

Love me.

And so Phainon does. Adjusting his grip on the blanket, Phainon leaned forward to connect their lips. He doesn’t deepen the kiss the time, not wanting to miss a single sound. With his free hand, he rubs up and down Anaxa’s side, occasionally moving to tease his fingers along Anaxa’s cock.

He wants to tease him more, to savor these moments longer. He wants to draw out every thrust for as long as he can and remain seated in that tight heat until Anaxa tells him to leave. But he knows that time isn’t their friend right now and that with such high emotions, with such precious revelations, their bodies are wearing out and both of them are reaching their peaks quickly.

In between Anaxa’s moans and sighs, his hiccuping cries at another sharp thrust of Phainon’s hips, now an easy slide to bottom out with each thrust, Phainon whispers his request.

“Together… Please, cum together with me… I’m so close, I can tell you are too. Please, Anaxagoras, please.”

And Anaxa’s response is a shaky nod of his, his legs wrapping firmly around Phainon’s waist, and his hips rolling along with Phainon. In a rush of movement, Phainon moves to grip the back of Anaxa’s legs and rears back, moving so he’s sitting and Anaxa is above him. Anaxa screams into the air as he drops down onto Phainon’s cock, taking him even deeper than before.

As they meet again and again, dozens of emotions and feelings run through Phainon and when he looks into Anaxa’s eye, he knows Anaxa is feeling in the same way. Leaning up to kiss him again, he pleads together as he rocks Anaxa down onto his cock.

And then, all at once, like cool rain, like a warm beam of sunlight, like a perfect crunch of a leaf, like a cold breeze, release washes over him, and he holds Anaxa close to him. Anaxa cries out and claws at his shoulders, his back, as his own release takes him as well.

Together, they support each other as Phainon leans Anaxa back onto the blanket, not wanting to leave Anaxa’s warmth just yet as he pulls him into another kiss, those three words being whispered between them over and over.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

・・・

Above them, the moon is still glowing brightly, though their view of it is partially blocked by the canopies of the trees around them.

In his arms, Anaxa, now cleaned and in a pair of cute dromas pajamas, huffs and snuggles closer, which he has no problems with. He himself is in a new pair of boxers and a somewhat small pair of dromas pajama pants.

“I’ll need to make adjustments to the heaters. They were a bit of a last-minute creation, something to pass the time…”

“I think they’re neat.” He says as he buries his face in Anaxa’s hair. “Plus, I don’t mind that they don’t entirely keep out the cold. It means I get to hold you even closer.”

In the moonlight, Anaxa’s cheeks turn pink and he purses his lips. “…”

He responds to Anaxa’s silence with a cheeky hum and squeezes him again.

“You know…finding me was supposed to be a struggle.”

“Oh? Was it?”

“Yes.” Anaxa deadpans, and he turns to look up at Phainon with a narrowed eye and a finger poking Phainon’s chest. “Since when did you know this forest so well?”

Ah, well… “I used to explore it before you arrived, that’s all.”

Anaxa hums that hum of his that tells Phainon Anaxa knows he’s lying. “Really now? So even though you haven’t fully explored it in a few seasons, you were able to easily navigate around the new trees I planted, the various exercise courses I have created for the chimeras, and—”

“Okay, okay! You win!” he cries out as he moves them so he’s fully on his back and Anaxa is lying on top of him. “When I knew you were working here, I made sure to keep up ‌my knowledge of the layout. That way…if something happened, I could find you. You have a habit of overworking yourself, and sometimes you don’t have a chimera with you, so I wanted to make sure if I had to come find you, I would easily be able to.”

“...Phainon…”

“I know I’ve said it before…but you mean…so much to me, Anaxagoras. I…” Chapped lips meet his cheek.

“I know, fool boy. And I love you as well. Now, let’s pack up and head back home. These heaters aren’t going to last much longer.”

“Just a moment longer?” He asks, pleads. Anaxa just shakes his head and runs a hand through Phainon’s hair.

“Of course.” Silence lapses between them as they let themselves bask in the other’s presence. But then the question he was going to ask pops back into his mind. “Phainon?”

“Yes, love?”

“The dromas decorations and games… Actually no, the dromas everything, that was you, wasn’t it? You did all that.”

“...no?”

“Fool boy.”

“But yours~”

He smirks at that, leaning in to steal another kiss. “Yes.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Season of Foundation 1, XX38

“…are you sure I’m doing this right, Prof— Anaxa? …Anaxa…”

“It’s merely planting seeds, Phainon. You’ve been doing this all your life.”

“Yes but these are special.” Phainon whines as he ever so gently places another seed into the ground. With a huff, he carelessly drops the seed in his own hand into the hole dug for it. Immediately, Phainon is in his space, poking the seed so it’s centered. “Careful!”

“It’s a seed, Phainon. If these tests work well, then I will hand these off to Cerces who will work on getting them distributed to areas that would greatly benefit from crops of this size and their resistance to seasonal changes. They will get tossed around, so it’s better to treat them as they are going to be treated.”

Reddened cheeks puff up as Phainon continues to carefully plant each seed. These ones are for lettuce, a decision he made unbiasedly. It’s with that same unbiased behavior that the next set of seeds he is working on are wheat.

Phainon’s voice pulls him away from his musings.

“So when it reaches maturity, I just harvest it like normal?” Phainon asks as he pokes the ground around where he planted the seeds, making sure that the dirt will be receptive to water when the sprinklers kick on in a few hours.

“Yes. We will cut the base of the lettuce carefully, and then quickly preserve the roots to see if there is any difference between what I saw during their controlled growth in the greenhouse versus its growth on the farm.” He explains as he tends to the seeds he planted. Phainon doesn’t respond for a few moments.

“…we…?” He turns to look at Phainon, who has his gaze fixated on the ground. On his knees, his hands are clenched tightly, so tightly Anaxa fears he might be in pain.

Slowly, like one would a wounded chimera, he reaches out and sets his hand on top of Phainon’s. “Phainon?”

“…are you…staying?”

Ah. Right. He forgot that was a discussion they were supposed to have. “…I am. That is why I needed some time in my office this morning. I have informed Cerces of my decision to stay. She will be—Phainon!”

He yelps as he’s tackled into the dirt, completely covered by Phainon’s bulk. His head is protected by Phainon’s large hands, and he can’t help but close his eye and savor the closeness of his lover, his partner.

“You’re staying… Really? Like really really?” Is shakily spoken into his ear. Anaxa nods.

“I am. Forever. Just like I said last night.” He whispers, lifting his hands to brush Phainon’s hair out of his face. His lover is crying, tears spilling from those bright blue eyes, and he can’t help how his heart beats rapidly in his chest. “And I’m a man of my word, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, and I hope you are too.”

Phainon nods his head, perhaps a little too fast, but before Anaxa can chide him for doing something that he knows must hurt, he’s lifted from the ground and into the air. He lets out a shriek at the movement, still not used to just being picked up and carried whenever Phainon felt like it. He can only hold on to Phainon’s shoulders as he’s carried across the field, the chimeras they pass greeting them as they go about their tasks.

It’s a bit of a distance, one they cover in silence, but soon they near their destination—his home. Which he supposes will become their home, now that he’s staying and he and Phainon are together. He feels like he should be bothered by Phainon’s silence, but he knows that sometimes, Phainon just needs a few moments to sort himself out and then he’ll be himself again. He thinks about asking Phainon a question, just to hear his voice, but the way Phainon’s blue eyes flicker to him every other minute or so has him merely snuggling more into Phainon’s hold.

As they pass the first row of newly planted plots, he sees something run by them. Phainon has to stop short so he doesn’t trip, which makes Anaxa let out a quiet laugh as Phainon slightly pouts at being interrupted. Turning his head, he watches as Nanus runs and runs as fast as he can toward the end of the field, before turning and going right. He’s curious as to what has the chimera running so fast, since he normally doesn’t run, but it doesn’t last long as Beagle Coconut enters his field of vision, gunning for the smaller chimera. He’s about to turn away to focus back on Phainon when he sees it—a bright yellow scarf with purple stars, neatly tied up by a golden ribbon, fluttering on the wind.

A small hmph and a hint of a sigh grazes his ear. “That little thief… I think he stole that from my closet.”

“Well, it would need to have made its way here anyway, since you’ll be moving in.” He responds without thinking much of his words. It’s a true statement. It’s logical for Phainon to move out of his parents’ home and into his, now that they are lovers and set to marry once their courtship ends.

But perhaps…they should have talked about it first before Anaxa made the decision for them. Especially since it seems Phainon hadn’t thought about that detail yet.

Whoops.

“Phainon! Don’t you dare drop me!” he shouts as he feels Phainon’s grip go slack in shock.

Phainon blinks rapidly as he readjusts his grip and looks down at Anaxa with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry, you startled me. I… I… I still can’t believe… We… We…”

He forgets that he’s already accepted Phainon this much into his life long before last night. That each passing day in the Valley was just one day closer to being with Phainon, to living with Phainon, to having Phainon.

With some not so graceful movements, Anaxa rearranges himself in Phainon’s hold so they are now facing each other, his legs on either side of Phainon’s chest and his hands gripping those strong shoulders. The white-haired man is quick to move with his, moving his arms so he’s securely holding Anaxa with one hand on his lower back and one under his rear. Careful as to not fall, Anaxa lifts his hands up to cradle Phainon’s face. He can’t help the smile that curves up his lips. “We. Us. You and me. Our house, our farm, our chimeras. And also our bed where I would like to be because it’s very cold out here. I forgot to check the TV yesterday…”

“Oh! Yes. Inside!” And then they were moving again, Phainon holding him a little closer to keep him warm. The grin on his face is so wide and his eyes are so bright. It’s like looking at the sun without being burnt. “Hey, Anaxa?”

“Yes, Phainon?”

There’s a pause as Phainon carefully climbs the steps and crosses the porch to stand in front of the door to their home. “I’m really happy you let me show you around your farm on the day we met. I know I made myself look like an idiot, but…”

He nods, remembering the day fondly. He hadn’t put it together until far later than he should have, but he doesn’t regret it. Well that and he had been very distracted by the dromases he got to befriend that day. “…I am too.”

And then Phainon’s lips meet his and he moves his hands back to Phainon’s shoulders for balance. They kiss on the porch for some time before a huffy awoo interrupts them. Parting from each other, their breaths create little clouds in the cold early spring morning. He finds that he can’t look away from Phainon and just knows the white-haired man feels the same way. He pulls him forward for another—

“Awoo.”

Phainon pulls away even further this time, looking sheepish. “Sorry buddy, I’ll get the door.”

And the Beagle Coconut and Nanus go into the house, the mint-chimera now all tangled in Phainon’s scarf while a pretty red gem now hangs from a chain around the grey chimera’s neck. Phainon hefts him a little bit higher and follows them in, placing a kiss on his cheek as he steps over the threshold of their home.

Of the home of Phainon and Anaxagoras, of Aedes Elysiae Valley.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Dearest Cerces,

Attached to this letter you will find an invitation to my wedding. Attendance is required. Additionally, I will need to cash in that favor you owe me. Phainon and I will be immediately going on our honeymoon once the wedding and festivities have concluded, and I need someone to watch over my experiments while we are gone and take notes to my standard. Our farm is very well managed by The Awooo Firm, so there is no worry there. However, knowing their tasks is vital to ensuring the wellbeing of our farm so I have included documentation on each chimera, their habits, and their tasks. We believe we will be fine for only one season turnover, but that could be extended.

May Reason safeguard your thoughts,

Anaxagoras

・・・・・

Anaxa,

Told you the Valley would be good for you ;)

Consider me there and favor cashed in. And for a wedding gift, I’ll give you another favor.

Also, why in the name of Reason did you send me an inch thick notebook. This can’t all be about the chimeras, can it?

May Reason safeguard your thoughts,

Cerces

PS: I just won the biggest betting pool in the history of betting pools at The Grove.

・・・・・

Cerces,

It’s Anaxagoras.

And that’s great! Then I expect you to help me and foot the bill for the regional branch of The Grove that I’ve been planning to open out here. I have spoken to Madam Gorgo and we have found a place to begin construction upon Phainon and I’s return. And yes, it is. There are over twenty chimeras who assist on our farm.

Anaxagoras

・・・・・

Anaxa,

You are impossible. An impossible man!

Cerces

・・・・・

Cerces,

Just remember, this was your idea. Future brilliant minds thank you for your donation.

・・・・・

Anaxa,

Brat. I’ll see you at your wedding. Be ready to defend your choices. And tell your husband-to-be he better be ready too.

・・・・・

Cerces,

Of course. He’s an excellent debater and will make you proud.

Until then,

Anaxagoras of Aedes Elysiae Valley

Nousporist Farm