5

The long, man-made roads slowly dwindle as Sol and Yohan's journey meets the setting sun—they've made quite a bit of progress so far, still, they are nowhere near seeing home on the horizon. But it was a good day, and a well needed moment of rest they took to stock up on provisions that will last them for days now. Though Sol had insisted they split the costs, Yohan argued that he wanted this to be one of the first few things he bought with the lifetime's worth of gold the Crown gave him as a second parting gift. "A taste of freedom, finally!"

the knight had exclaimed.

And who was Sol to deny him that?

A pleasant aftertaste of salt washes through the breeze, the sound of the waves greet them as they near the ocean, a cliffside on which stands a rather impressive, abandoned lighthouse that watches over the shoreline. Sol eyes it for an instance, there is moss growing around its rocks and ivy climbing its pale fractured walls. But a quick peek inside is all Sol needs to know it has been well preserved; it would seem they are not the only travelers who have sought to find respite within its walls in the past, firewood that must have been lit less than a dozen days ago has been left behind near a now defunct fireplace. Sol and Yohan decide to set up camp for the night, leaving Yohan's horse tied to a large boulder not too far away.

The two step forward, inside the lighthouse together with their belongings in one hand, and each other's palms in the other.

A hay bed is risen against a corner still protected by the lantern-room above. Sol and Yohan grab a thick, warm quilt together from one of their bags, then drape it over the hay—it'll likely not be as comfortable as the mattress in the cottage, yet this adventure already makes Sol nostalgic for their first days spent together, and oddly he finds himself excited at the prospect of sharing this little makeshift bed with his beloved.

As Sol continues to pat down the quilt atop the hay to drive out any excess bumps, Yohan grabs a few herbs and oats from his bag then declares with pride that he is going to feed his horse. "I'll be right back, my love! He deserves a treat after such a long day!"

Sol watches him stride out of the lighthouse's entrance, a decaying wooden door that has likely survived one too many threatening waves in its lifetime, with how it is falling apart at its edges.

Sol wonders if he could patch it up a tad before they leave, for the sake of the next travelers who will stop by here. He kneels then shuffles through his belongings to find a pillow for the night, and hopefully something that could help him fix that door. The sole window above his figure allows grey light to filter in through the vines as it is cast onto his figure, sounds of trinkets colliding with each other inside Sol's satchel echo briefly across the lighthouse's walls and their vast lengths, until Sol's ring finger chills at the touch of cool glass. He does not recall packing anything of the sort—as he wraps his hand around the culprit, Sol finds himself looking again at the small vial the elderly woman had gifted him months ago, back at the city's enchanted Marketplace Of Wonder.

Sol stares at the vial in silence. He leans away from his satchel to peer back at the outside world: Yohan is still feeding his stallion, blissfully unaware that the curiosity which finds all mages has now grabbed Sol by the collar.

Sol, who is now reaching into his sack again to grasp at a magical compass lined in gold—the only heirloom his mother left him—shaped in a star, instead of pointing to a location, it indicates the nature of a magical item, potion or herb. Sol opens the vial, sniffing it with a raised brow—it does not smell of anything putrid, nor can he detect any immediate curses attached to the scent, meaning it is most probably safe…

Probably.

Behind him, Yohan is still distracted, attempting to secure the lighthouse's lock that is barely holding on its door with the aid of a magical item he bought from the marketplace.

As Sol raises the vial to the compass, he does something foolish—he tips the vial around and lets one, single drop of silver fall onto gold, failing to realize in time that some of its contents have touched his finger. Sol does not even need to glimpse at the compass to immediately recognize the magic at hand, from the way that it feels, seeping deep under his skin, into his mind. He studied this type of potion, once.

It is not bad magic, per se, but it will make you feel.

And, Sol thinks as thick tears line his eyes and stream down his face, now is truly not the time for this. "Shit,"

Sol finds himself cursing for lack of a better thing to do. Vivid memories flow through him—first, of Yohan making love to him on the first night they spent together at the cottage, and his mind fills with the undeniable safety he'd felt on that day. For the first time in his life. However time slowly flows backwards, and soon, it is as if he'd never met Yohan at all.

As if he were back to being a student of the magical arts, spending his afternoons beside — who would teach him all sorts of new spells and tricks, who took Sol out for dinner to congratulate him on passing his exams as the first of his class.

To this day, Sol still wonders if he'd planned it from the start— if those memories he'd cherished for so long had even meant the same to — as they had meant to Sol. Or if that man had always planned on doing those vile, vile things to him.

Sol will never know.

And then, he thinks of his mother, whom he never really knew. He wonders if she still thinks of him sometimes, or if she is ashamed of his existence.

When Yohan finally finds him again, Sol is sobbing into his pillow. "Sol!"

the knight calls out to him as he rushes to his side, his aid. "What's wrong? My love, what happened?"

"Nothing,"

Sol sniffles, miserable, a wreck against the makeshift bed. "I— I'm a curious fool, that is all."

He shakes his head. " Gods. "

After a few moments, Sol finally admits it, "Someone gave me an odd potion, and I… accidentally touched its contents."

"You used an unknown potion? "

Sol can already see Yohan scrambling for their belongings amid the blur of his wet gaze, likely intending for them to leave so they can find a healer right now. Yohan sounds all the more worried than before, which really was not Sol's intention when explaining the matter, since it is nothing grave at all.

"Yohan, it's fine."

He stops the knight right there as he reaches for his arm. "It was made with ingredients used in magical therapy."

"Oh."

Yohan pauses, and finally settles down. As his shoulders relax, the knight sits, kneeling on the ground by Sol's side. "I see."

He nods. "Well, in that case…"

Yohan's palm settles on Sol's back, the warmth of his skin a gentle invitation, that Sol welcomes as he leans into his beloved's touch. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Hold me?"

Sol asks, weakly, and he need only say the word before Yohan is embracing him atop the hay bed. As Sol curls into his beloved's embrace he curses under his breath. Blasted witch, he thinks as he recalls the elderly woman's cunning smile, it was indeed a useful gift, but one that he would have appreciated a warning for.

Then again, Sol is not sure he would have subjected himself to this, had he known—he never dared make such a potion for himself, after all.

Sol does not recall passing out, yet when he blinks again, he sees the stars aglimmer through broken pieces of the round rooftop. His eyes are still wet with tears, it seems, he cried all throughout the night. Sol sighs. Sometimes, all you can do is wait out the storm. As dreadful as that experience was, his mind is empty now. He doesn't think it was just the potion, though. Sol thinks back on his travels, on all the sights he saw, the people he met, every lasting memory… He was so afraid of this world when he departed on this strange journey. Everything seemed so vast, the Kingdom so full of potential yet evil all the same—and Sol wanted to hide away in the comfort of his little village, far from everything, everyone.

The mere thought of being deceived again is one he could not stand back then.

Yet, as much as there is evil in this world, Sol has learned it to be of a great kindness, too. Every face, every soul he met was a light in the darkness, who each healed him in their own special ways. Ways he's no doubt he will carry in his heart until the day he breathes his last; and, perhaps, a little after that, too.

"Sol?"

Yohan asks as he rouses, his voice woven full of unease, and concern.

As Sol rests his hands against his stomach, he blinks. "Yes, beloved?"

"Do you… happen to recall your dream?"

Amid the darkness, Sol raises a brow. What is he talking about? "What? Why?"

"Sol. My heart."

Though Yohan would have usually held him in these circumstances, he seems to be recoiling away, out of… caution? "You were gripping my tunic so tightly, and mumbling something about being afraid—afraid of me…"

As Yohan's voice trails off, Sol tenses. "T-That's—"

He tries to remember his dream, yet nothing comes to mind. "I don't…"

Gods, of course, he'd have one of those nightmares after drinking that potion: it only makes sense. "Sorry."

There is a bout of silence, and the air catches in Sol's throat. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Yohan whispers—their eyes meet again. "Why do you apologize?"

Sol's lower lip shakes. The frenzied beating of his heartbeat pulses in his neck, his eardrums. "After all you've done for me, I don't want to be afraid. I know you would never…"

He heaves in another breath. "I know it's fine."

And he notices, that Yohan is still holding back from touching him. "Yohan,"

Sol mumbles as he reaches for the knight's hand in a tentative motion. "Do you not want to touch me anymore? Are you…" He lowers his gaze. "Was it too off-putting to hear that I was afraid?"

"No,"

Yohan shakes his head. "That isn't why, Sol, I…"

He sighs. "I was worried that you would not want to be touched anymore. Or that you were…merely tolerating my touch."

"You're the only person who makes me feel truly safe."

Sol locks their fingers together—and relief floods his mind when his beloved finally reciprocates. Their gazes meet. "I know… it doesn't make much sense, right?"

A forced laugh escapes him. "However, I swear, I love it when you touch me. It isn't something I am merely tolerating. In fact, it feels strange when we don't embrace in the mornings. I thought… that something was wrong."

"So did I…"

Yohan whispers as he finally pulls Sol in, close to his chest. "Are you sure,"

he tucks a stray strand of hair behind Sol's ear, "that this is okay right now?"

Sol nods. "Though,"

He buries his face into the knight's chest and holds him tightly. "I'm sorry for not saying anything, and that this is how you had to find out, I…didn't want you to think I didn't trust you. Because I do. I do, and I would not have done all that we have, if I didn't. But…"

Sol sighs. "Sometimes, fear defies logic."

And even love , he thinks. "It may take me a while before my heart remembers, that trust is a gift that can be given without worry."

Now that these feelings he'd been trying to deny are out there, laid bare before Yohan, Sol isn't sure how to feel. He knew he would tell Yohan one day, but he didn't think it would be like this. Still… as conflicted as he may be, part of him is relieved. The longer he waited, the heavier the weight of his fears would grow, and he could not bear another month of this.

Abovehead, rain covers the land in a small drizzle that plickplocks against the lighthouse's wood, and ceramic tile. Yohan kisses the crown of his head again. "I would much rather die before harming you, Sol."

He brings an open palm to the curve of Sol's spine. "If it meant you would live a long and happy life, unharmed from the dangers of the world, I would gladly leap into Danger's fray, even now without the protection of the Old King's curse."

Sol's breaths grow heavier as Yohan softly plays with his hair, leaving a peppered trail of kisses into his dark strands. "When you proposed to me in the gardener's cottage, and I told you that I loved you, I meant every single one of those words. My heart, "

Yohan's hot breaths fall against Sol's lips, "I am privileged to spend every day beside you, no matter what those days may look like—if you would have me, then I will love you in the ways you deserve, I promise, you have nothing to fear. But, of course"—Yohan huffs as he brings Sol's knuckles to his lips then glances at him again, a cheeky grin etches itself into his lips—"I will have a lifetime to show you that perhaps, if not in words, then in actions." He kisses Sol's hand. "I do not care how long it takes, Sol, as long as you are happy."

"Yohan…"

Sol reaches for Yohan's palms beneath the covers, he squeezes at the knight's fingers, the moon illuminates the knight's features in soft, gentle light. "I…"

Though Sol already knew it merely from the way Yohan had acted until now, treating him with nothing but patience, care and kindness—hearing the knight's confession aloud serves as a strange reassurance Sol didn't realize he needed.

He wants to believe it.

He really does.

He presses his lips to Yohan's collarbones.

And as Sol comes to lay on top of his chest, Yohan wraps his arms around his back and pulls him closer. The knight whispers beside his ear, "And Sol?"

"Yes, Yohan?"

"I'll think nothing less of you—for whatever feelings you may have, whatever you may have been through, you are still the same Sol you have always been in my heart."

Sol traps his lower lip between his teeth. His fingers briefly furl into fists atop Yohan's chest. "Ah…"

Perhaps, he does not need to be in such a rush to tell him, after all. Sol stares down to his lover's face, an unwavering grin takes his lips and Yohan leaves him to the silence, until Sol speaks anew. "I think… I needed to hear you say that."

Yohan leaves him to the silence, until Sol sighs into his chest. "Yohan, I— I don't think I could love anyone else even if I tried,"

he mumbles, "thank you, my gentle sun."

And as Yohan runs his fingers through his hair, he caresses Sol's head in slow, gentle motions. Sol feels himself slip away again into a pleasant dream, one where he walks in the direction he loves, the path leading him to Yohan.

In the remaining hours of his slumber, Sol sees a future in which he and Yohan live happily together without a worry in the world—he does not think this is a vision, for he is certain they will always have their own worries and struggles to carry together when those times will come, but he wants to believe that the future can be good again. To him. And to his lover.