The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Syryn slept through the loud morning noises and then the empty afternoon quiet. When his body deemed itself ready to release him to the world, the evening's subdued light was already slipping in through the seams of his closed windows.

Two probing knocks sounded muffled on his door.

"Syryn?"

"I'm awake, come in."

Alka's entrance was unobtrusive. As quiet as a cat, the green-eyed mage padded in and sat on the bed next to Syryn.

"Are you feeling better?" His question was cotton soft. Nothing about the mage was jarring to Syryn's awakened senses.

"Much better, I'm really hungry though," Syryn replied, leaning into the feather light brush of Alka's fingers that combed away the lock of hair across the alchemist's eye.

"You don't intend to cut your hair do you?"

"No," Syryn replied. It was harder to groom and care for the length of hair that he had been known to keep - but it did not detract Syryn from growing it out again.

"Rowan came for a visit," Alka told him out of the blue.

"He did? Did he give a reason for it?" Syryn reluctantly left the comfort of his pillow and asked the mage. Alka smelled heavenly, like herbs and honey, a scent that freshened Syryn's mind.

"No, but he's concerned about your arm. You should go speak to him before he leaves."

Syryn was headed to the kitchen after some time spent on his hygiene. His mind drifted to the events of the night and how they had permanently changed something inside him.

Arriving at the door, his entrance to the kitchen went unnoticed by the pensive teenager who seemed lost in his thoughts. Syryn stood there entranced and admired the sight of Rowan bathed in the soft evening light.

He appeared like a child of Eos - bold golden hair alight in a halo, and an unearthly grace in his posture that was regal even in his relaxed state - he was a blessing that Syryn was allowed to partake of. The mage filled himself with the presence of the boy that would someday save another wretched soul; Not Syryn, not this time.

"Rowan," Syryn made known his presence in the kitchen.

Bright blue eyes like a clear summer sky turned to him and threw open the doors of nostalgia that Syryn had kept locked. In the heat of competition, it had been easier to repress memories. But in a quiet place like this, it suddenly felt daunting to be alone with Rowan.

"How is your arm?" The young man's gaze drifted to it and back.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." A white lie.

"I brought you something for it."

Rowan slipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved a small item.

Syryn could not accept Rowan's gift. Concentrated lotus dew, considered to be an extremely rare medicine that boosted the health of its drinker, could not be wasted on a broken bone that was healing along nicely. The alchemist slid the tiny jar back to Rowan without a word.

"It was my fault. This is the least I can do," Rowan pushed it back towards Syryn.

"Injuries are a norm in combat. Don't insult me, Rowan." Syryn crossed his arms and bluntly expressed his dissatisfaction.

The anti mage hadn't taken into account Syryn's feelings towards his excessively high-quality gift. He understood that it couldn't be pushed without risking his budding friendship with the boy.

"Can you consider this as payment for next month's potions?" Rowan attempted to bargain.

Syryn rolled his eyes at the transparent way the anti mage was trying to relieve himself of it. "This is worth more than an entire year's supply. I'll take it under the condition that this covers all further payments till the end of the year."

Rowan acquiesced but he still had a mind to keep adding to Syryn's collection of gifts.

"Let me know if I can help in any other way, Syryn," Rowan added with a nod and stood to leave like he was getting late for an appointment.

"Already leaving?"

The anti mage appeared surprised that Syryn wanted him to stay. "yes," he replied, "I'm going out on a hunt tonight. Lake sparrow is a long way off so I have to leave before sunset."

"I'll come with you." Syryn boldly announced.

He knew of Rowan's habits, or at least most of them. Rowan went hunting at night if something was troubling him. Something that could not be resolved and was building up inside - a mass of restless energy he needed to exorcise.

The anti mage wasn't expecting Syryn to invite himself to the excursion. He had been looking forward to a release for his frustrations, alone preferably, but he couldn't deny the alchemist.

"Are you sure? What about your arm?"

"I'm quite sure. I'll get some supplies just in case we run into trouble." Syryn pushed his chair back, mentally cataloguing what was inside his satchel. "Give me a few moments."

After letting Alka know that he would be away for the night, Syryn left the apartment with an anti mage who was leaving less burdened than he'd arrived. They stopped on their way to buy some food so they wouldn't have to cook in the forest.

Syryn suspiciously watched the blonde receive a wrapped hunk of baked glazed pork. It was marinated in a special selection of spices that imparted a mouth-watering flavour to the sweet and spicy pork. This had been one of Syryn's favourite foods, something nobody was supposed to know in this lifetime.

"You like pork?" he asked Rowan.

"Who doesn't like glazed pork?"

Rowan was right. Such delicious meat baked with honey and spice, which fool would turn it down? Syryn was just being paranoid.

At twilight, the young travellers reached sparrow lake. The distinctly bird shaped lake reflected the starry sky on a surface so placid and inviting- Syryn was tempted to dive into the stars.

"Rowan, what are we hunting?" he asked his companion. The anti mage had come awake, out of the pensiveness that had prevailed through their journey.

"I wanted to hunt down a forest wolf that has been stealing cattle from the farmers but I've changed my mind," Rowan replied. Eyes curious, he turned to Syryn, "what made you decide to come with me?"

I wanted to be a friend to you. I thought you might need an ear for your troubles. I wanted to spend some time with you. I've missed the older you. Syryn smiled faintly, "It sounded exciting so I followed along."

"The hunt?" Rowan lowered himself to the grassy mat they stood on. Syryn followed the anti mage's action and slid down next to him.

"No, about a night trip to the forest," without Alka, his mind supplied.

The anti mage's shoulder brushed against Syryn's reminding him of how close they were seated.

"Ro-" In the distance, a faint light appeared between the trees, catching their attention. It was a soft yellow glow that pierced the darkness with its light.

"Should we take a look?" Syryn asked his companion who was already getting up.

"Yes, I think I know what it is." There was a curve of anticipation on Rowan's lips. The smile he turned on to Syryn was a flashback to the happy memories they'd shared in the tower.

Memories of when Rowan came to Syryn bearing news of his successful liberation of a neighbouring town from an army of rebels, of when Rowan had shown him an inheritance from the tombs of his forefathers, of when Syryn had begrudgingly accepted his friendship, when Rowan was finally allowed to touch Syryn's hair, when Rowan found out Syryn's - the alchemist stood to follow Rowan while batting away the incessant memories that shot him with despondence.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" Syryn chose to talk, a distraction that worked most of the time.

"And spoil the surprise? No." The answer was cheeky. "This isn't a biome where I'd normally see it grow but I think that makes it all the more special," Rowan explained while helping Syryn clamber down a rocky outcrop. The anti mage negotiated the climb down with the finesse of a mountain goat that had been climbing for decades. Syryn wasn't exactly a slouch at it but he sorely lacked the grace with which his companion moved.

As they arrived closer to the trees, Syryn could finally make out the outlines of lantern buds, hundreds of them. Rowan was right, this wasn't the right biome for these breathtaking flowers that symbolised Eos' light. The mage had a strange notion this event was connected to the arrival of Rowan

They entered the field of light with cautious reverence for the sacred flowers. One by one, the buds bloomed into bright blossoms that gave off an ethereal light. Rowan stood in the midst of it, bathed in a warm glow, eyes closed to the world.

The sight evoked a feeling so stirringly beautiful, Syryn almost felt like a voyeur - his presence profaning a moment of consecration between the goddess and her child.

Syryn felt unworthy.

Before he knew it, the alchemist had taken a step back to hide in the shadows. He did not belong here with Rowan. He had basked in the light, absorbed its goodness, and now it was someone else's turn. Rowan would grow into the magnificent champion of light that he was born to be, and Syryn would stay in the shadows because that was where he belonged, where the demons hid. He had to be content with it whether he liked it or not.

Feeling unstable and overwhelmed, the alchemist turned away from the light. What was he thinking? Rowan didn't need him.

"Syryn?"

He dared not reply.

"Syryn, what are you doing there?" Rowan who stood amongst the lantern blossoms, called out to him sounding bewildered, worried.

"Syryn," this time more urgent. The anti mage cautiously approached the alchemist who was drowning in a darkness that was blacker than the mere absence of light.

"What's wrong?" His voice was gentle. "Why do you look so sad?"

Syryn hated himself for interrupting Rowan's time with Eos just by his being there. This was the man who would save the world from his kind. Why was he here? Right, he wanted to help.

"I'm not sad," he wasn't convincing at all. Rowan's perceptive eyes searched Syryn's carefully crafted mask for an answer.

"I'm not sad. I was just moved by how beautiful this is," and that bit of honesty in it was enough for the anti mage.

"It is, isn't it?" Rowan's eyes never left Syryn's face. The joy that the anti mage exuded warmed Syryn just a little bit.

"I want to see you, Syryn." A brazen request that came out of nowhere. The mage understood what Rowan was asking for.

"Why?"

"Because I saw you in darkness, and I've thought about what you might look like in the light.. too many times," Rowan replied in a low voice - so quietly like he wanted to hide the words away; a secret that Syryn wasn't supposed to know.

Syryn's mouth snapped shut, swallowing the hard 'no' he had been about to release.

"Come into the light." Rowan's hand was suddenly around Syryn's wrist, pulling him towards the middle of the field. The mage wanted to resist but he found himself unable to do so. Brightness surrounded him, banishing the shadows that clung to Syryn. And there he stood in the centre of Eos' garden, the bouquet that she had prepared for comforting her child.

"Let me see you, Syryn" Rowan repeated with quiet determination to have his way. He didn't have to try very hard because Syryn had gone stupid from how dazzling the anti mage appeared this close. Without putting much thought into it, he cut off the power to his illusion.

All of a sudden, It was too quiet. Syryn could hear his heart beating like a maddened drum. He had never felt so naked and exposed before this very moment. Rowan's luminous blues were fixed on him with a reverence that Syryn could not accept. He was unworthy to be looked upon by Rowan like he held the answer to all of the anti mage's tribulations.

"Syryn," Rowan called his name and it sounded like a prayer.

His mental faculties had evacuated, leaving a chasm that was filling slowly with the sight of Rowan's solemn expression.

"I have known you for a lifetime. This is what my heart tells me."