Chapter 131-The only one

"He’s so still. What do you think we should do?"

"Being there for him Ssese is the best thing that we can do for him right now," Aeltharion pulled the covers over Nytherael.

Sseraphis pressed his face still. Being there for people was something he’d thought he had gotten good at until this moment.

His fingers clasped tightly on the bowl in his hands. He had warmed the soup seven times and each time it went untouched.

Nytherael hadn’t eaten anything since he woke up. Aeltharion had thought it best to leave the underwater palace, to avoid the scene of the horrible and traumatic death to give him room to breath.

Sseraphis told him about Nytherael’s dream to buy an island and have a house by the beach. Immediately Aeltharion had secured an island right underneath Western skyrift. His dragons got to work that very night and worked endlessly, with an entire army working around the clock, by sunrise, the new home was complete.

He had arranged transport for them to a private island and secured a cold room to preserve Rhysandor’s body.

Nytherael found a comfortable space in the bed-like swing that sits in the backyard facing the sunset, beach and sat down.

On occasions, he’d lay down and nap then wake up and stare at the same spot in the sky every other hour. His eyes were clear and calm.

He hadn’t spoken a word, ate a single morsel of food or even mourned. Not a single tear had fallen from his eyes since he came around and that got Sseraphis and Aeltharion worried.

"He’s usually a crybaby..."

"Venom!" Aeltharion scolded, not angrily.

Sseraphis slammed the bowl onto the table and plopped onto the chair, exhausted. "I am serious, constant," Sseraphis went on. "He’s usually emotional and the first one to cry about everything. His tears are always on standby," he said, then his tone lowered with worry. "Why hasn’t he shed a single tear this time?"

Aeltharion blinked, a tear slipped out. He quickly wiped it away. He hadn’t been able to stop his tears from falling since the incident.

Rhysandor wasn’t just Nytherael’s best friend, during their marriage, he had become a friend to all of them, a brother even. Aeltharion could always count on Rhysandor to help out in the kitchen every time he was over.

He called it "doing his part" because he wanted to feel like he was a part of the family by contributing a piece of himself to them. He always had a bottle of wine ready for all occasions and food was his language.

He couldn’t imagine the pain that Nytherael was going through, all he could do was be on standby Incase Nytherael needs him. The loss had left a void he knew no amount of love could fill.

"We should just...cough," he cleared his throat. "We should do our best to be there for him."

Sseraphis was up for that, he only wished he knew how to go about it. How was he supposed to be there for someone who didn’t even talk to say where it hurt? As a physician, how can he treat a patient who hasn’t even accepted that they are sick?

"Do you think he’ll ever come around?" His eyes softened deeply.

Aeltharion didn’t know. "I’m sure he’s strong enough to get through this. It’s just, he’s been through a lot... he’s suffered so much. I think the incident with Rhys just... pushed him over the edge of the cliff he was already standing on," he assessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Nythe... He... He has gone through so much in a short period of time," Aeltharion glanced at the fox, his heart bleeding within. "He was charmed, had his life taken away from him....he got frozen in a lake for a year and a half, only to wake up to a world that hated him... Hes carried so much burden but... In the world he woke up to that held too much blame and accusation on him, Rhys is the only one who never looked at him like he was guilty..."

Sseraphis recalled the day on the flying boat, the conversation he walked in on before he threatened Nytherael with Rhysandor’s life.

The fox had come with baskets of food and wine as was his habit. He gave Nytherael warmth in a world that had turned cold to him. Sseraphis swallowed, the hurt cut up to his throat.

"Rhys is the only beast who has always been true to him without conditions. He accepted Nytherael and got him through hell and celebrated his paradise... That kind of loss... I don’t think Nytherael can..."

Aeltharion wiped away more tears that flooded out. He swallowed his grief and dried his face.

He had a job, to be there for his husbands. It wasn’t the time for him to fall weak and cry.

"No matter how he wants to go about this. I will support him," he said.

Sseraphis sighed. Their lives had become way too dramatic, he was tempted to find the beast writing their fate and have a word with him. He failed to find a crime so dire that they might’ve committed that would warrant the horror that they kept waking up to.

"And the beasts responsible?"

"Oh... Nytherael gave them a piece of his grief. They must be nursing their wounds as we speak. He handled it."

"They are still breathing," Sseraphis’ voice darkened. "I wouldn’t call that handled," he added.

They came to kill him, it was by Rhysandor’s great sacrifice that he survived their bad intentions as he took the blame for her. He wasn’t ready to settle for handled.

He wanted their heads to hand as tribute to Rhysandor. The fox might not have been his favorite person in the world for his rainbow take on the world, but they had their moments. Additionally,he was comfortable with Rhysandor dying for him.

Lately it seemed that beasts around him keep making sacrifices for him, sacrifices he didn’t feel he earned which left him feeling burdened and with a debt in his soul.

The list of debts were getting longer and longer. He owed Ssoren for the void in his soul that was bo longer there, and he owed Rhysandor for the life that he was living.

"I can’t keep owing debts, love," he turned to Aeltharion, getting emotional. "Find them..." He demanded. "I’ll use their skin, their cultivation and every breath in their bodies to bring Rhysandor back."