4

Orange trails bleed from the sky into the fog when Sol leaves the manor with his tools in one hand, and a farewell in the other—Celestina's story is still coursing into his mind.

I must live, if I want to destine all our surviving Riders to long and happy lives.

Sol passes the lakeside again, all of the color has been stripped from its water by the clouds above.

But for as long as I live, I must continue knighting new Riders—the curse is a hungry one, you see.

When Sol arrives at the cottage, he finds Yohan cooking supper in the kitchen. He walks to his lover with slow steps, then wraps his hands around his waist from behind, he holds his beloved a little tighter than usual.

And if I do not choose a Rider, it will choose for me—anyone in the land. But if I die, the curse will take over, it will become me; it has a will and I am its chains. So I choose and I pretend that I am who I say I am: a healer, a friend. And I bear this burden alone.

Yohan laughs as he ruffles Sol's hair. "Sol!"

As he toils the pasta in the kitchen's pot, he kisses the crown of Sol's head. "What's gotten into you today, my love?"

the knight asks, when he sees Sol refuse to let him go, sticking to him like a human-shaped mollusk.

I live, even when living seems to lose its meaning sometimes—for I know it still means something to the ones I doom to suffer with me.

Yohan turns around to take Sol into his arms. "Sol?"

he whispers against Sol's shoulder whilst he leans down to deepen their embrace. "Sol? Why do you cry, my love?"

I live, because when they die, their memories live on inside me. And perhaps, it is selfish to hope they will make happy memories before the end comes—but I do.

"I love you so much, Yohan,"

Sol blurts, unable to hold back the ugly sob that escapes his lips and collides with Yohan's chest. "How glad I am that life brought me to you—brought us together—I hope you'll always remember."

Yohan runs his fingers through Sol's hair, where he kisses him again. There is a tear that falls atop Sol's cheek, spilled from the knight's gentle gaze. "I love you, too,"

he whispers as he thumbs at Sol's jaw, then brings his lips to Sol's. "I feel the same. Every day I wake grateful for you, my heart."

Sol, please take care of him for me.

"Yohan,"

Sol stares up at him, his mouth trembles, his heart pounds within his ears; he lowers his voice to a soft, almost-question, then holds on to the knight's shoulders in an earnest display. "Marry me."

Sol. Please, show him the light I took from his life for so long—he is a good man.

He deserves to be happy.

* * *

They depart from the manor before dawn has a chance at breaking the violet bruise of the morning sky.

"You didn't want to say goodbye?"

Sol asks Yohan.

Yohan, who only looks to the dark horizon still peppered in stars as he sighs, grinning. "I think we already have."

The two drag their belongings towards the stables. As they near, the cottage only gets smaller and smaller behind them, and Sol thinks he will miss it.

But, now, he is also looking forward to seeing Androcles again.

And Sol has a feeling the town that once felt so stifling, will fill him with a sense of familiar comfort once he returns to Featherlaine.

Yohan stops before the stallion he'd been riding a few days ago, he readies his steed—newly gifted to him by the crown—for their travels ahead. Not long after, the knight turns to Sol and tells him, "Let's go."

In his eyes, the flicker of freedom shines brighter than the setting stars. And they ride—until the stench of the curse that once remained so strongly on Yohan is but a flicker of deep oblivion in his bones. As the knight sheds the darkness from his heart the more they stray farther from the manor, the Old King's Curse evaporates like steam off his skin.

It is a beautiful thing—a beautiful, lonesome monstrous thing to witness, when Sol watches the dark sparkling onyx trail they leave behind in fascination; Yohan's nightmare is finally over.

The sun cracks warmth over their backs, summer's final embrace. "Sol…"

Yohan's voice trembles in relief. "I cannot feel it anymore, I—"

He looks to the sky, the rising dawn. "I think I am free."

Sol's grip tightens around his beloved's waist. He buries his face into the knight's back then shuts his eyes. "I'm glad, Yohan,"

Sol whispers, even though he can still feel the remnants of a curse inside him, incubating something foul that will hatch inside the next Rider whose soul will be reaped. "I'm glad you do not feel it anymore."

Soon, they are in the city again—back where it all started. "We should get a few provisions before we leave,"

Yohan tells Sol, who is still holding onto him tightly.

He doesn't want to let go.

Still, he nods against the knight's back. "Sounds good."

He finally pulls away slightly, then opens his eyes, noticing now that a small crowd has gathered around Yohan's great stallion—indeed, it makes sense, there aren't many knights around this early in the day nor time of month.

As more curious faces stop to peek at them, Sol blinks, the townsfolk look so tiny from atop Yohan's horse. There are so many eyes on him, it's beginning to make him nervous. He leans in closer again to Yohan's back, until his face disappears, hidden behind Yohan's midnight-blue cape that flies in the wind like the pieces of his past he left behind today.

If Sol concentrates hard enough, he can hear Yohan's heartbeat. It is always a reassuring sound, a gentle reminder that this is not a dream, that they are alive here together in this moment. Sol can touch Yohan.

And Yohan can touch him.

Yohan clears his throat. "Excuse us,"

he tells the passersby, before he steers his steed toward a quieter part of town. "This should do it,"

he mutters the declaration to himself as he stops his horse; they come to an abrupt halt.

Yohan dismounts his horse first—as he lands he offers his hand to aid Sol, who gleefully takes it with a smile. "Thank you, beloved,"

he tells Yohan, as Yohan wraps his arm around Sol's waist then helps him down, Sol steals a kiss from his lips and giggles. Sol technically could have gotten off himself, he has done it before, but there is something enticing about having the knight's attention all to himself like this. And it would seem Yohan has definitely figured it out.

It is such a nice day today, Sol is excited to visit the city again, knowing they will make for Featherlaine once they are done.

As Yohan ties his mount to a nearby pillar, Sol eyes the horse with mild worry. "Will it be all right to leave him here alone?"

he asks the knight. "What if someone tries to steal him?"

Yohan can only chuckle at the remark whilst he looks Sol in the eye with a devilish grin. "They better not, the poor souls; I'm quite good at finding people, and making them find regret."

"Yohan!"

Sol gives the knight's arm a gentle, albeit playful tug, his voice trails off, "Please, don't…"

"I jest, dearest."

Yohan wraps an arm around Sol's shoulders and pulls him in closer, until his lips are pressed to Sol's soft, chestnut hair. "Those days are behind me,"

he says, before his lips find Sol's ear in a teasing whisper. "I promise I'll be good."

Sol raises a brow at his beloved—as he glances up at him, he reaches for Yohan's chin that he pinches between two of his fingers. An amorous smirk takes his lips when he thinks back to some of the nights they spent together. His gaze darkens with desire as his eyes meet with Yohan's. "Will you, now?"

A light, pink flush spreads across Yohan's cheeks—the knight is flustered, visibly so, as he blinks a few times in rapid succession then bites his lower lip, he glances down to Sol's mouth. He leans in.

Yohan presses their lips together, he kisses Sol, so slowly that it feels as though the world stops spinning. And Sol runs his fingers through the knight's hair, he finds himself laughing against his beloved's skin. " Gods , how I love you."

Sol slips his hand into Yohan's, their fingers slot together in perfect ways, and he rests his head to the knight's shoulder. Beside him, Yohan sighs, happily. "I love you,"

he echoes the words. "Thank you for not leaving me, even when you could have… even when I would have waited."

They stride through the early morning crowds again. Though they are not riding Yohan's horse anymore, they still manage to stand out, merely from Yohan's height and armor.

"I wouldn't have left you, you know,"

Sol eventually tells Yohan. "Not for anything."

Yohan merely replies with another thankful nod, still—Sol notices the tears that line his eyes, the way the knight's fingers tremble ever so slightly around his hand. "You don't have to be alone again…"

Sol adds, as he gives Yohan's knuckles a gentle squeeze. The two look to each other again. And Sol smiles. "I'm here, remember? And I'm sure Featherlaine will love you just as much."

"Thank you, Sol. I…"

Yohan squeezes his hand in return. "I appreciate that. It is… easy to forget, that I am not the boy who cannot refuse them anymore, it… may take me some time before I can truly believe it."

Sol pauses in his steps, causing Yohan to stop, too. "Sol?"

Yohan glances at him from over his shoulder. "Are you all—"

Sol runs to embrace him. "I'm fine,"

his voice croaks as he buries his face into the knight's chest. "I'm fine, really, I am. I merely—"

He takes another breath. "I'm glad you never gave up, and that the curse never took you, and that you are here now."

Yohan's palm comes to rest atop the crown of his head. "Thank you, Sol."

He presses his lips to Sol's hair. "I hope to make the best of it."

They remain there, lost to each other in the crowd for a short while, when Sol catches an odd scowl briefly knitting itself through Yohan's brows. He parts his lips to ask his knight if anything is the matter, until a voice calls out to them.

"Hey! Excuse me!"

The question travels through whispers amid the sea of nearby villagers, swaying like the ocean's waves, Sol does not think he has heard this voice before. And yet, it sounds familiar in its way of speaking. "Solange! I think that's you—isn't it?"

A pit of dread instills itself in Sol's stomach. "Shit,"

he curses under his breath as he turns away then tries to drag Yohan away by the arm. "Yohan, we should—"

" Ah! "

A sigh of relief travels through the air, towards them. "I'm so glad to see you, Solange! Some people were saying you were dead, thank the Gods!"

I sure felt that way, Sol thinks to himself, as his eyebrow twitches—still, the kindness mixed into the words cause him to pause. He grabs hold of his courage then faces the voice, instead of running. "Who…"

Sol trails off as his eyes spot the voice's owner.

Before him stands a young woman. She reminds Sol of someone in all sorts of ways, yet, he cannot quite put his finger on whom. Despite that, they visibly know each other. How? Sol squints. It isn't like him to forget someone so quickly, especially if they were close…

The young woman forces a smile as she motions toward the streetside, where there are far less crowds and people walking. "Should we um, catch up in a quieter place?"

Sol glances to Yohan for approval—he doesn't necessarily want to catch up, it wouldn't kill him if he missed the opportunity, but he can't hide his curiosity—Sol parts his lips and blinks, blankly, as he asks the knight, "Do we have time?"

"I suppose?"

Yohan hums as he stares up at the clocktower, before he turns back to Sol and the young woman. "As long as we don't linger too much, I don't see why not."

Sol isn't sure whether he is anxious or relieved at that revelation, however it is not long before the three of them are visiting a herbal and tea shop together. Sol is a tad grateful for the detour, he admits, he hadn't realized such a pleasant stop was in the vicinity.

He stares back at the young woman again, who is picking out herbs like she has lived here all her life without hesitation. "You graduated?"

Sol asks her, because it is rare to see a student wandering alone on a weekday like this, especially one that seems to know the area with such an undoubtable sense of familiarity.

"Oh! Yes!"

She perks up, lively like a little bird in flight. "A few months ago, actually!"

And as Sol watches her, it hits him: her mannerisms, her way of speaking, everything reminds him of… "You're my old dormmate,"

Sol blurts the thought aloud before he can even consider it.

The young woman's lower lip quivers. "Ah, yes, I suppose I am."

Worry flashes through her gaze as she crosses her arms, the joy is plucked from her features, and only concern remains before she stares down to her feet. "Hope you don't mind the change."

She glances out the window, at the crowds passing them by like the passing of time. "I'm Esther now."

"Oh."

Sol's eyes widen. He tries to hide his surprise, yet something about their encounter has him emotional. He didn't think he'd meet another person like him, especially not today considering he was just about to leave. "N-No! Not at all!"

Sol's jaw tenses. As much as he is deeply delighted to see Esther again, now he remembers who she is, she is bringing up so many memories.

Bad memories.

The gnawing pit of anxiety in his stomach returns. And Sol's mind is abuzz with dread. But he takes a breath, reminds himself that he is safe. Yohan is here. They are in broad daylight. He is not alone.

Nothing will happen.

Nothing will happen.

Sol clears his throat. "If I had judged you, then I would have judged myself, too, by the way."

Esther's eyes widen. "Oh, Gods."

Her face pales with horror. "I apologize! I-I knew you looked a bit… different, but I didn't want to assume—"

Sol tugs at the cloak that'd been covering his robe until now, he shrugs. "No harm done, I'm just relieved you don't hate me, either."

There is a short, bout of silence that instills itself between them, until Esther sighs and shows him half a smile. "What a world we live in huh, if we must worry about that?"

Esther shakes her head. "Anyway, it's seriously so good to see you again. And to meet you again, um…"

"Sol,"

the name slips off his tongue as easy and as fast as breathing now. And as the conversation continues, nothing happens indeed, and Sol's pulse finally slows.

Esther tilts her head. "Sol!"

She hums as she looks him in the eye. "It does suit you better, I agree!"

"Thanks."

Sol laughs in turn. "You look so much happier."

"I am!"

She reaches out to squeeze Sol's hands. "You also seem like you're thriving!"

Sol never heard her laugh so openly in the past, he'd remembered her as a quiet student, who rarely spoke to her peers. "So? What do you do now? Do you work around here, too?"

"A-Ah, that?"

Sol squeezes at his own elbow. "No… not exactly."

He sighs then stares to the ground, the wooden planks that carpet this little shop of wonders. "I served the King as an apothecary for a few months, and now I'm going home."

Esther blinks a few times. "Oh! Well the coincidences just keep on coming today, don't they?"

She laughs. "I'm actually on my way there to take someone's measurements!"

Now, it is Sol's turn to pause. "Measurements? You're a seamstress now?"

"Of some sorts!"

Esther nods with great enthusiasm as she rests her hands against her hips with a proud huff. "But I focus on crafting clothes, fabrics and threads that the wearer can use to shift into any shape they like! At first, I admit I was nervous moving to a big city like this—but business has been booming and it seems the royals got wind of my little endeavors!"

She brings a palm to her lips and chuckles.

And Sol is in awe at how she can so casually mention that she has just invented multiple new ways of using magic, he'd heard of people using dangerous, forbidden magic to shift their own shapes in the past—but distilling that magic into a formula that can be applied to clothes? "That's… very impressive."

"Thanks, Sol!"

Esther stares down to her skirt, she pinches its hems between her fingers. "Truth be told, it was a very selfish project"—pain weaves itself into her voice—"I couldn't stand my situation and I refused to use forbidden magic, so eventually… I took matters into my own hands."

She huffs as she forces a smile again then brings a determined fist to the front of her chest. "Anywho! I'm just glad I didn't accept that forbidden magic was the only way! I feel like we as mages hold ourselves back sometimes from every possibility—since we're taught in such a structured way, we lean on the familiar far too often—but those possibilities are, well, endless really if you stop to think about it! But I should stop talking now. I feel like I've said enough."

"No,"

Sol shakes his head as he grins and ponders on the thought, "No I think… I think that's a wonderful thought, Esther."

Sol can only hope he will accomplish as much in the next couple years. He does not want to fall behind. He decided, last month, that while Yohan will open his teahouse, Sol will compile all of his knowledge about the herbs in the area and what medicines can be made of them to pass down to the next generations of apothecaries that will succeed him—his time with Celestina taught him that even though she knew of many ways to cure the sick, she and most her workmates did not hold as much knowledge, about the lesser-known herbs growing in the mountainsides and more isolated parts of the lands.

Perhaps, his efforts will only be a drop amid water in terms of impact—but if it can save one life in the future, then, Sol feels documenting his research is worth the effort and time. Of course, he will publish his compilations as Sol, which may complicate things at first.

But Sol will tell his mentor once he returns—about the weight of his existence that he'd secretly carried for years.

And he hopes, Featherlaine will accept him for the simple man that he is.

"My heart?"

Yohan calls out to Sol from the next aisle. "Shall I grab more mint for the journey?"

Sol nods to where Yohan is standing, beside a little garden table in the middle of the herbs that are still growing inside the shopkeeper's indoor garden. "That sounds lovely—thank you, love!"

When Sol turns back towards Esther, she eyes Yohan with a raised brow and a smirk.

"My!"

Esther tells Sol. "Aren't you leading an interesting life!"

She fixes a stray strand of hair that she neatly tucks behind her ear with a giggle. "Invite me to the wedding, will you?"

"Oh."

Sol glimpses back, briefly, at Yohan. "I…"

The knight is picking out herbs with that odd scowl again. Is he merely lost in his concentration to his task? Sol can't remember seeing this expression on him before, until today. "I don't think we've decided on a date yet."

Odd , he thinks as he blinks, "but I'll let you know."

As Yohan disappears towards a section of herbs specifically recommended for horses, Sol meets Esther's gaze again—Esther, who goes from quiet, to beet red in the face, reaches for Sol's shoulders as her eyes widen in utter shock. " What! "

She brings a palm to her lips as her eyes widen in utter shock. "Sol? I was kidding! Gods, really? Is it true? "

She perks up and jumps on the spot, finding herself holding Sol's hands once more and shaking them once with great enthusiasm before she swiftly lets go. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you! You know, it is funny, yet I always thought you would be the first one to find love!"

As they continue to talk, Sol finds it funny that despite their newly adopted differences—in the end, nothing has changed, they are merely happier versions of the hollow lies they once inhibited, truer fragments of their souls finally connecting for real.

Sol tells Esther of his time as Andrcoles' protégé, about Featherlaine the little town that saved him yet tethered him to loneliness all the same until he left for this unforgettable journey by Yohan's side. He expresses his excitement for Yohan's future tearoom and current brews, and invites Esther to stop by if she is ever in the area, so that Sol can properly introduce them.

Esther agrees with glee.

At some point in their conversation, Sol considers asking about — but, he decides not to, in the end. Sol is proud of himself for not crying at the mere thought of — even when it might be a silly thing to take pride in, he hopes this means he is healing in some ways; it is hard to tell, sometimes, with this particular scar. Nothing can undo what has been done, but he feels something inside him unraveling. The power that man held over him is leaving, little by little.

Esther, in turn, tells Sol of all the sights she has seen throughout travels of her own overseas. Sol listens to her tales of all the nobles she has helped, who were once people like Sol and her, who believed a path to happiness could not be walked. Sol is glad his old roommate has been living such an exciting life. Though it feels bittersweet that they never got to graduate together after they'd promised to do so all those years ago, he is grateful for the opportunity to have met her again. "Still, isn't it funny?"

Esther adds.

And Sol blinks. "What is?"

She grasps at his hands then chuckles. "To have met here again of all places—in the city where the Royal Liberator Of Mages once trained, and allowed us to serve Kings and Queens again, it almost feels like fate!"

Oh. Sol had completely forgotten, but it is true. When royal courts did not allow mages to practice amongst their ranks hundreds of years ago, there was a Prince once, who sought to change that: and it all started here.

If only Sol could remember his name…

"I suppose,"

Sol scratches at his cheek as he laughs in turn, "that is quite fun."

He sighs. "Maybe I should come back here sometime, visit a monument or two in his honor."

"Let me know if you ever do!"

Outside, the bell within a cathedral rings, signaling noon's arrival.

"Ah, gosh,"

Esther quickly reaches into her satchel and shuffles around looking for something. " How has it been this long already!"

she grumbles, before she finally gasps once her fingers apparently brush against her findings. Out from her bag, she pulls a small card made from hardened fabric that she hands to Sol—on it, is her address in gold embroidery. "Here! If you ever want to write me."

She pats Sol on the shoulder before she pulls away again. "I don't want to lose you again, Sol, I'd love to hear from you sometime."

"Oh."

Sol's grin reaches his eyes as he observes the card for an instance. A hint of warmth spreads throughout his cheeks. "Thank you I… I don't want to lose you again either, Esther."

The two bid each other their long overdue farewells— though it is finally time for goodbyes, it does not feel like forever this time, Sol thinks to himself as he waves and watches Esther leave, the small bell hung above the herbal shop's door rings in the air with her passing through the little green entrance.

"Sol?"

Yohan calls as he returns to Sol's side with a paper bag full of herbs for their journey. He slips his fingers between Sol's then presses a kiss to Sol's forehead. As the two leave in turn then walk towards a fruit stand full of lovely lush colors and what are likely the juiciest apples Sol has ever laid his eyes on, Yohan parts his lips again. "Are you all right? I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't help but notice you seemed… elsewhere, at times."

"I…"

Sol picks up an apple, mindlessly, then three. "I was reminded of the past."

Sol finds himself shrugging, sighing, as he glances up to Yohan again. "But, don't worry about me! I think I'll be fine."

Yohan pulls him in for a side hug, and Sol can barely bring himself to care that people are staring, looking. With their engagement still lingering in his mind, he wants to be close to his beloved today.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Though Yohan speaks the question casually, Sol knows there is weight to it. It is true that they have never properly talked. Sol has only shown him his feelings through magic. And although they do not need to talk, things are fine as they are… Sol would like to.

Yet, the words still catch in his throat at the prospect of telling his beloved. "Later, perhaps."

Sol hugs him back, his arms wrapped around Yohan's waist, like waves that crash across sand. "I'm tired."

And a little fearful, Sol leaves these words quiet and unsaid. Because in truth, he does not know what words to use to tell Yohan. The truth feels like a poison sometimes, Sol knows it will hurt his beloved no matter how he says it, and he doesn't want it to break a piece of him, like it has broken something inside Sol. Because you are the one I love the most , he thinks as he observes Yohan, who has gathered a few vegetables in his hands, and is laughing so lightly as he exchanges a few words with a farmer—as if he has not just escaped from decades of darkness.

You are the one I love the most, Sol thinks, perhaps, that is why, you are the one whom it is hardest with to put the past into words.

Perhaps, I fear you would see me differently, if you knew everything.