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Joshua heaved and fell on his knees as painful spasms overtook his body; blood spilled from his mouth and onto the deck. There was an arm around his waist and a hand grasping his shoulder as Gav tried to help him up, but Joshua’s legs wouldn’t cooperate.
His energy was all but depleted; what remained was being siphoned into preserving the prison of Ultima in his chest and fighting off the curse that dug into Joshua’s very heart and bones.
He felt the Enterprise groan and sway under him as Mid desperately tried to navigate the rough waves, thrown violently into unnatural motion by Odin’s attack. An attack Joshua, even with the strongest shield he could muster as the Phoenix, could only deflect.
Get up, he told himself urgently. Clive needs you. Get up!
His brother and Jill had still been inside the black galleon when it fell to the bottom of the sea, right into the pit Odin had created with Zantetsuken. Joshua could only faintly feel the aether of their Eikons now.
Try as he might though, he could only expel the blood that had built up in his lungs as his body screamed for oxygen.
Eventually, his airways cleared, and he gulped in deep, labored breaths. The ship beneath him had steadied somewhat, and there was much less cursing and shouting on deck. Finally, Joshua was able to brace his hands and knees under him, and with Gav’s help, he got unsteadily back to his feet.
He felt more than heard Odin return to the Enterprise, the dark cloud of his aether flooding the deck in oppressive waves. Gav’s arm tightened around his waist, but Joshua pushed him away. “Get back,” he said, his voice hoarse and his heart pounding fiercely, for if Odin was back here, then it meant…
Clive.
The King was completely clad in his heavy black armor, his sword clipped to his waist.
“Mythos has fled,” said Odin in a voice that resonated in the air.
The news relieved Joshua, though now he stood as the Enterprise’s last line of defense. And he could barely stand. It seemed like a hopeless situation, but Joshua had never known surrender in his life.
“He will take Shiva, of course,” continued Odin, taking slow but purposeful steps towards Joshua, who could only draw his sword and repeat to Gav and the crew to stand back. “And then, he will come for you.”
It isn’t fair, thought Joshua as he tried to call on the Phoenix. It came but in spluttering bursts, flames gasping in the wind as Joshua’s body rebelled against more use of his aether. How could Barnabas Tharmr bleed himself so carelessly, create for himself a powerful egi, demand all of Joshua’s strength, and still stand seemingly untouched by the curse?
It isn’t fair, Joshua thought again as Odin reached for him, easily knocking back Joshua’s sword before slamming a powerful fist right into his stomach.
Joshua doubled over, his flames dissolving and his knees giving out.
He then felt Odin’s armor-clad arm tightly circle his mid-section, felt him lift Joshua onto his shoulders as if he weighed nothing, faintly heard the desperate cries of the crew, and then a heavy cloud pressed down upon him, choking him in darkness until darkness was all he could see.
Joshua woke to silky sheets over cold, hard stone and padded suppressive manacles strapped around his wrists. They kept his arms spread wide and the Phoenix out of reach.
He strained hard against them, twisting his neck to see them fixed securely onto thick metal loops dug deeply into the stone. Joshua tried kicking his feet for leverage but managed nothing more than to exhaust himself, and so he collapsed back onto the stone bed, taking in quick, shallow breaths. He realized with growing trepidation that he was unarmed and completely naked, nothing but sheer silk to use as cover. Carefully, he moved his legs to try to slip himself under one layer, though he knew it wouldn’t do more than give the illusion of modesty.
Then, finding no immediate means of escape, Joshua allowed himself to take careful stock of his surroundings. He was in a circular chamber of marble, much like the apse of a church. The room itself was sparsely decorated, but it had an ivory canopy supported by four pillars and whose interior contained an intricate mosaic. The mosaic presented Joshua with a very familiar image—an image Joshua had never seen completed until now: that of Ifrit and the Phoenix joined as one and standing above the other seven Eikons, who all gazed up at them in worship.
I’m in Waloed, Joshua realized with a sense of foreboding, for he was also clearly on an altar, laid open and defenseless as if in offering. To what, Joshua could only guess with creeping dread.
“You are finally awake.”
Joshua’s neck snapped forward, and he glimpsed the figure of Barnabas Tharmr emerging from the darkened hallway leading into the apse.
He was wearing a flowing robe of dark blue and flanked by three copies of his Lord Commander. They were all a ghostly white and near-translucent, sporting expressionless faces, as if they were made in haste or perhaps with much less care than the fully realized Sleipner whom Clive had laid waste to in Kanver.
They stood still by the entrance even as the King moved closer to the altar on which Joshua lay.
Joshua felt his heart rate quicken as Barnabas drew near, and he attempted, futilely, to make himself seem smaller, hunching his shoulders as best as he could despite his restraints.
Without preamble, the King grabbed Joshua’s chin tightly, sinking his fingers into flesh when Joshua tried to shrug his hand off.
“Don’t touch me,” Joshua hissed.
“What a pleasing sight you make, Phoenix,” Barnabas said quietly as if Joshua hadn’t spoken, wasn’t struggling under his grip. “The perfect sacrifice,” he whispered, releasing Joshua’s chin to trail a hand down to his chest, pressing lightly upon the center where Ultima’s prison rested.
“And of course, you would also make for a powerful vessel.” The King’s eyes darkened, his voice dipping lower. “You have been blessed, Phoenix. The lord Ultimalius chooses his subjects well.”
Joshua had wondered why his chest didn’t ache, why Ultima lay dormant in his prison despite the Phoenix’s powers having been made silent by the manacles. For whatever reason, Ultima was somehow choosing to remain within Joshua.
“Why am I here?” Joshua asked, feigning confidence even as his voice trembled and his heart beat frantically under the King’s hand.
“You have brought Mythos to Ash,” the King replied. “He is already here, carving a path of carnage to Reverie, leaving nothing but sundered Akashic flesh in his wake. He is so desperate, Phoenix.” He leaned forward, once more gripping Joshua’s neck to keep him still. Then, he laved his tongue, wet and hot, up Joshua’s right cheek before dropping a bruising kiss on his forehead.
“He is so desperate for you,” Barnabas whispered into Joshua’s skin.
“Release me!” Joshua demanded, thrashing against him, but he was held down by cold, strong hands gripping his legs, and there was another set of hands holding down his shoulders.
“He is almost complete, Phoenix,” Barnabas continued, nosing at Joshua’s hair and breathing in deeply. Then, he exhaled, and his breath felt unpleasantly warm—invasive—against the shell of Joshua's ear. “Only two Eikons remain. And I shall be sure to prime him for the final sacrifice.”
Joshua gasped helplessly as the hand around his neck tightened and his legs were pried apart. He felt cold slick fingers prodding at his entrance, and he screamed. “Stop!”
“But the sacrifice,” said the King, “must be prepared as well.” He pulled away from Joshua, leaving him thrashing against two of his commanders who mercilessly kept him prone and spread as they fingered him open.
His third commander dutifully took off the King’s robes and sank to his knees, laving his tongue up the length of the King’s already half-erect cock and then enthusiastically taking all of it into his mouth in one quick movement.
“Stop,” Joshua said again, his voice breaking, as he felt a cold mouth take in his own limp cock and more fingers press into him, prodding at his prostrate, which sent unwanted spikes of pleasure up Joshua’s spine. Once more, he tried to reach for the Phoenix, but while it sat under his skin, it refused to even stir.
“Mythos will be relentless with you,” said Barnabas. He approached Joshua once more, his cock now fully upright and glistening with spit and oils from Sleipner’s attentive ministrations.
His two other commanders held Joshua’s thighs open as the King sat himself between them, hauling Joshua up by the hips as he positioned his cock at Joshua’s slicked up entrance.
At this point, Joshua could only beg. “Please don’t,” he gasped out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Clive, he thought, in desperate and futile mimicry of his thoughts the last time he’d been rendered so helpless. Help me, Clive.
“And until he comes,” Barnabas told him, his face finally breaking into a small smile. “I shall ready you.” And with a snap of his hips, he speared Joshua completely with his cock.
Joshua let out an agonized scream, and as Barnabas started pistoning his hips mercilessly, Joshua felt his heart jackrabbit in his chest, his breathing coming out as shallow gasps with each powerful thrust. “Clive!” he called out, unable to control himself, and then he bit his lip so that his mouth would not betray him again as he was forcefully taken.
Joshua cast out his gaze frantically, looking for help, salvation, as tears flowed down his face, but he was only met by Sleipner’s cold and amused eyes, still holding his shoulders down. And ashamedly, he felt reluctant desire build within him as Barnabas continued to drive in, hard and true. One of the commanders had a slicked hand pulling at Joshua’s cock, now firming up as Joshua found himself unable to completely tamp down the pleasure-pain they were forcing upon his body.
For a long, torturous while, Joshua was drilled into the hard stone beneath him, and he could only gasp and beg continuously, “stop, stop, stop,” as the King pleasured himself, digging fingers into Joshua’s skin, marking his flesh, and setting Joshua’s insides alight against his will.
“Oh, Mythos will enjoy breaking you, indeed,” panted Barnabas. He turned to smirk at one of his commanders, the one pumping Joshua’s cock as if issuing a silent command, and immediately, Sleipner bent forward and took all of Joshua’s length into his mouth and down his throat. Joshua screamed once more as the commander forced out his orgasm, and even still, Barnabas kept up his pace, thrusting brutally until Joshua had bit his lips bloody from oversensitivity.
Then, Barnabas slowed, pulling out almost completely before shoving himself back into Joshua, each thrust equal parts excruciating and rapturous.
“Let it end. Please,” Joshua sobbed, his face wet with tears and sweat and spit as the King showed no signs of stopping. “Please.”
Barnabas let out a soft laugh, his pupils completely black as he looked upon Joshua who had already stopped struggling. And finally, finally, after several more agonizing thrusts, he said, “This will do.” And he sank himself one final time into the other man and spilled inside him.
Then, he tilted his head to the side. Dutifully, the Sleipner to his right bent forward to kiss him.
Joshua watched tiredly, feeling the King’s spend coat his insides, as the Sleipner that held his shoulders gradually dissolved into the air. The second to the King’s left followed, and the third, who had been kissing Barnabas, disappeared last.
“Mythos is here. Even faster than I predicted,” said the King, pulling out of Joshua, who groaned and trembled in pain.
Barnabas got off the altar and threw his robe back on. Then, in a mockery of a lover’s caress, he gently brought up his sleeve to wipe at the tears on Joshua’s cheeks, the spit on his chin.
Joshua pulled away from him with a snarl.
“You still have your spirit,” said Barnabas, amused. “That is good.” Then, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out two vials, one a light purple while another was a dark red.
He held the purple vial up and uncorked it. “This will revitalize you,” he said, bringing the lip of the vial to Joshua’s mouth.
Joshua firmly kept his lips closed, but Barnabas had seized his jaw roughly and pried it open, forcing the liquid into Joshua’s mouth, and then he pinched Joshua’s nose to get the potion down his throat.
Joshua growled angrily as he was forcefully made to swallow, but not long after, he felt his energy return. There was also a strange heat that started pooling in his belly, very unlike the warmth of the Phoenix.
“What—” Joshua gasped out, feeling his skin prickle and itch.
“It acts slowly. The longer your desires are not appeased, the greater the agony,” said Barnabas with a touch of pride. “Although it will fade on its own eventually. One of Sleipnir’s most ingenious concoctions.”
He then held up the dark red vial for Joshua to see. “But this is his finest effort. One deep breath, and even a man such as the Mythos would fall slave to his basest desires.” He returned the vial to his pocket and gave Joshua one last meaningful stare. “Resisting it will kill him, Phoenix.”
“He’ll kill you first,” Joshua spit out angrily.
“Oh, he will have me,” said Barnabas, completely unperturbed. From another pocket, he drew one more vial, and with its contents, he coated his fingers thickly with a clear, unscented oil. Almost clinically, he pushed three of his fingers back into Joshua’s loosened hole.
Joshua winced then snarled furiously, trying fruitlessly to kick Barnabas off as he was made to again weather the King’s assault. Barnabas held him down until he seemed satisfied, and then he poured the rest of the oil between the soft flesh of Joshua’s thighs.
“And when Mythos is done feeding on Odin,” said the King, “when he’s groomed and made to starve even more, he will come here, Phoenix, and he will have you.”
With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Joshua shivering and whimpering in both uncontrollable desire and helpless despair. He closed his eyes and found himself praying to whoever might listen. Please let the King fail.
Joshua had lost track of time as he lay on the stone altar and fought against the rising tide of desire that clawed its way into his skin and set fire to his loins. His cock stood erect and red, his hole, still loose and slick, clenching, as he failed to bring himself any sort of relief. His manacles made it impossible for him to even rub himself against the marble under him.
Exhausted yet still burning from within, Joshua sought for calm. He tried to still himself and started taking deep breaths, one after another.
He’d thought of Clive at first, which had always brought him comfort, yet all he could do was either worry at what Odin might do to him or, with a profound sense of shame, imagine him in the most degrading of ways, and neither helped alleviate the fierce hunger Barnabas’s potion had forced into Joshua.
But his meditation helped, if only just. It kept him sane as he waited to be saved, for that was all he could do short of gnawing his own arm off, and as desire continued to flood every fiber of his being, never abating, only weathered, he felt himself coming ever closer to such a recourse.
At the back of his mind, he knew Odin and Clive were close, but he was too consumed by fire and desire to track them and the minute changes in their Eikons' aether. He could only pray for Clive’s safety and that his own sanity would hold.
And then he felt everything shake, the walls around him, the stone beneath him, the colorful mosaic overhead. The air felt heavier, too, which tortured his already inflamed skin.
Finally, he heard heavy footsteps approach, and Joshua cried out in both relief and embarrassment, for he would recognize Clive’s treads anywhere. Joshua surely made for a deplorable sight, and yet he also couldn’t wait to be free, to call upon the Phoenix and see if he could quench himself of the itch and the burning under his skin.
“Joshua!” Clive cried out, stumbling into the apse, his sword clattering to the floor as he fell onto his knees.
Immediately, Joshua sensed something amiss, and he fought down his own delirium as he called out, “Clive! Please—I cannot—I cannot get to you. You must—” He trailed off when Clive looked up from the floor. His eyes were a darkened blue, and his skin was reddened and stained with sweat. Faint red veins marred his face and neck, and he looked upon Joshua with an animalistic hunger.
No, Joshua thought as his eyes grew wet with tears. No, no, no.
“I—Joshua,” Clive said through gritted teeth. He dug his fingers into his thighs and growled low in his chest as he tore his eyes away from him. “I don’t—I can’t—Founder help me—” He then slammed his arms onto the ground repeatedly and pressed his forehead upon the cool stone of the altar’s base.
“Clive!” Joshua called out again, straining against his manacles. Watching Clive in agony felt even worse than all Joshua had endured. He needs release, thought Joshua, remembering the King’s parting words—delivered with clear intent so that Joshua knew exactly what needed to be done. “Clive, you must come to me.”
“No!” Clive screamed. “I can’t, Joshua. I can’t.” His fists were still clenched tight as he tried to curl up into a ball beside the altar, eyes resolutely closed.
“It’ll kill you,” said Joshua desperately. “You must come to me—”
“I won’t. I would rather die than cause you any more hurt,” Clive hissed out. “I will weather this, brother. I…I will overcome it.” But even as Clive spoke those words, the veins on his neck grew darker, and they spread down his chest and to his arms.
No, no, thought Joshua again as tears flowed down his face. And then he thought, through the haze of grief and heat, that while Clive may not wish to act for his own sake, he would certainly act for Joshua’s. “He has given me a drug, too, brother,” Joshua said. “It…it burns me. It will destroy me.”
Instantly, Clive looked up at him, and he must see the agony on Joshua’s face, the desperation and hunger in his own eyes.
“I need you,” Joshua whispered. You need this, Clive. “Please. Please save me, brother.”
And then Clive was on his feet, his hands upon Joshua, on his shoulders, on his waist, and Joshua’s skin sang under his brother’s scalding touch.
“Yes, Clive,” Joshua found himself begging. “Please. I will die without release. You must—”
Clive was already running a bare hand along Joshua’s thighs, still slick with oil, and then he took Joshua’s fully erect cock into his right hand and began stroking it gently.
Joshua gasped as if he’d just been punched. “Clive,” he breathed. “Yes…”
“I have you, brother,” Clive whispered, bending down so that he could lay a soft kiss on Joshua’s forehead even as his hand worked him skillfully, smearing the pre-cum over the head of Joshua’s member before once more speeding up.
Joshua groaned, straining his hips upward as Clive applied more pressure and friction, and then finally, in an explosion of relief, Joshua spent himself into his brother’s hand.
“That’s it,” Clive said, mouth still pressed upon Joshua’s forehead as he milked Joshua’s cock.
Joshua found himself coming down finally, the itch on his skin fading slightly, but then he realized, as Clive’s hand fell away from his cock and landed heavily on his hips, that his brother was shaking.
“Clive?” Joshua whispered, trying to move his head so that he might catch his brother’s eyes, but Clive remained pressed against his side, his lips, also trembling, was mouthing over Joshua’s forehead.
“Forgive me, Joshua,” Clive breathed out. “I need—”
“Of course, of course,” Joshua said. “Do what you must, Clive. I—” But instead of moving, Clive’s grip on his hips only tightened.
“No, no,” Clive was whispering under his breath. “I can’t do this to you—I can’t—”
“You must,” Joshua cried out, twisting his neck, however painfully, so that he could look at Clive, whose eyes have darkened even further, the red veins on his neck looked swollen and angry now, and Joshua felt fresh tears fall down his cheeks as he imagined the pain his brother must be in as he fought for control.
“Clive, I need you to. Please, you must take me, Clive. I…I need you to do it. I have not been sated yet,” Joshua said, lying through his teeth, yet still meaning every word. “It will kill me.”
And once more, Clive was moving instantly. He tore angrily at his clothes, ripping the strings of his cloak, the laces on his boots, until he stood glorious and naked in front of Joshua, his cock fully erect. The red veins had extended all over his body now; some were already raised like angry scars.
Joshua swallowed heavily, for his brother’s cock looked impossibly enormous to him, though surely, surely, he could take him. Barnabas had made sure that Joshua could.
“Hurry, Clive,” he said urgently. “Now, please.”
Clive had now crawled between Joshua’s legs, so Joshua was able to wrap them around his waist and pull him close, and then he threw his legs over his brother’s shoulders and braced himself.
“I’m ready. I’m ready,” Joshua said. “You need not delay, Clive. I’m—” Joshua moaned loudly as he felt Clive breach him. Yet for all the yearning Joshua saw on his beloved brother’s face, Clive moved impossibly slow.
When he was fully sheathed in Joshua, Clive still refused to move; instead, he watched Joshua’s face even as his own strained in pain. “Tell me,” Clive growled low. “If it is—”
“Move, Clive,” Joshua commanded, and finally, Clive did move. He bent forward, bringing Joshua’s legs up to his chest and circling his arms under Joshua’s shoulders as if for more leverage, and then he thrust almost violently into his brother.
Clive was moaning wantonly now, whispering “Joshua, Joshua, Joshua,” under his breath as the painful veins under his skin slowly started to recede.
Joshua gritted his teeth as Clive pummeled into him. The potion, though waning, was still in his system, and so every thrust brought an intense spike of pleasure through him, and yet Joshua couldn’t help but think despairingly, I didn’t want it like this. I didn’t want to have him like this, drugged and nearly out of his mind, even as everything else in him cried out with desire.
Joshua closed his eyes as he felt them grow heavy with tears. Clive must not see. Clive must not know. “Yes, Clive,” he breathed out instead, his voice breaking. “I want this.” You need this. “You’re taking good care of me.” Let me take care of you please.
Finally, he felt Clive’s muscles stiffen, felt his brother bury his face in Joshua’s neck, and Joshua felt within him a burst of heat and wetness as Clive came.
Joshua sighed with relief. It is over, he thought, wishing his hands were free so he could swipe at the wetness in his eyes. “Clive,” he said, breathing hard. “Are you all right?”
He turned slightly so that he could press gentle kisses to the side of Clive’s head.
Clive only groaned, and then he pulled away, and Joshua could only gasp as he saw not a hint of awareness on Clive’s face but only a deep-set hunger that wasn’t even close to being sated, and while the red veins on his face had lessened, some were still pulsing an angry red.
Joshua drew in a shaky breath as Clive hovered over him, his breath blowing hot over Joshua’s face, and once more pressed his hips forward, his hardness apparently not even having abated as he remained sheathed inside Joshua.
He felt Clive’s muscles coil tightly under him, and so he only had a moment to relax as best he could and then he braced himself for another round of relentless pummeling, Clive pistoning his hips now in a brutal rhythm as he crushed Joshua to him, biting at Joshua’s neck and growling.
Joshua forced himself to take shallow breaths as his brother drove into him, and still he spoke, for Clive could still be there, could still be listening, and Joshua could not bear to cause him even more distress, “Yes, Clive. Go on. Go on. Whatever you need.” Let it end. Let it end. Let me have my brother back and whole.
Barnabas had said, Mythos will enjoy breaking you, indeed, and Joshua grit his teeth as he tried to stem the tears from coming and thought a resounding fuck you to the Barnabas in his head. For Joshua would never break, would hold strong and resilient for as long as Clive needed him.
Once more, he felt Clive come, and Joshua felt, only faintly, himself coming, too, stirred almost unconsciously by the torturous pleasure his tired and abused body had been subjected to.
He also felt, finally, his brother’s cock softening, slipping out of him in an agonizing slide and then followed by a trickle of scorching wetness.
“Clive,” Joshua whispered once more, looking up at his brother, who still hovered over him and had closed his eyes now. “Are you with me?”
As if in response, Clive’s eyes opened, but what looked back at Joshua was, still, not Clive, not really. The eyes that stared into Joshua’s own were an unworldly purple hue, and Joshua felt, more than heard, a deep growl reverberating from deep within Clive’s chest. Strands of liquid flame lined layers of Clive’s hair, and the skin against Joshua had started to glow red and yellow.
Ifrit, Joshua thought in recognition, once more bracing himself, not knowing what to expect.
Ifrit’s eyes roamed all over Joshua’s face, and then they slid down to his chest, where Ultima’s prison lay. The growling within Clive grew even louder, and as if in response, Joshua felt his chest constrict painfully.
“No,” Joshua gasped out, straining against his bonds.
Instantly, Ifrit grabbed at one manacle and pried it open with strong, clawed fingers.
Joshua pulled his arm free, feeling instant relief at the Phoenix’s power once more being within his grasp, and in a short while, Ifrit had Joshua’s other arm free, too, and then Joshua instantly called upon his Eikon’s aether to ensure Ultima’s prison held strong.
But Ifrit was bearing down on him, still growling angrily at the deep purple scar in the middle of Joshua’s chest. Joshua felt Ifrit’s aether push into him, and Joshua felt the Phoenix respond in kind, recognizing Ifrit’s flames and stretching out of Joshua’s skin as if in remembrance of what they’d been over the skies at Twinside, what they were always meant to be.
One, Joshua thought, his eyes landing on the mosaic above them, at the resplendent image of Ifrit Risen. And so as he felt Ifrit nose at his lips, he let his mouth fall open and let Ifrit lick into him, feeling his fire cover every inch of Joshua’s skin. When he opened his eyes, it was Clive’s eyes looking back, and so Joshua this time was the one who surged forward, throwing his arms over Clive’s shoulders and kissing him hungrily.
Clive was pulling him up and onto his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around Joshua as he kissed him back fiercely, and Joshua felt their aether coalesce until he could no longer tell where he ended and where Clive began.
He felt Clive in his mind, felt the warm and eternal glow of his love and the fierce wildfire of his desire, and the profound guilt that he felt to have done such depravities to his own beloved brother. So Joshua pushed back, allowing his own unfiltered emotions to flow into his brother, his own fierce and uncompromising love and lust, the shame he also felt and the certainty, the confidence, that loving Clive in all the ways Clive loved him back would always be the best thing Joshua had ever done and would ever do.
And in the protective embrace of their combined flames, Joshua felt an intense burning in the center of his chest, forceful yet painless, and as Clive tightened his hold on Joshua, he faintly heard the Phoenix trilling and Ifrit growling as the pressure upon Joshua’s breastbone finally eased.
For the first time in so long, Joshua felt himself able to breathe freely, and so he did, and then finally, feeling the tiredness deep within his bones, he allowed himself to drift off, cradled safely in Clive’s arms.
When Joshua came to, he was still on the altar, but his head was pillowed on Clive’s folded up cloak, and he was securely wrapped in a clean silk sheet; all traces of sweat, oil, and spend were gone from his body, though there was a lingering ache inside him that he suspected would take a while longer to fade.
Clive was sitting nearby, one leg drawn up to his chest as his back rested against a pillar. He was staring unseeing at the ground, clearly deep in thought.
Joshua shifted to a sitting position and found that his back twinged slightly. He swung his legs off the altar and thought, here goes, before getting to his feet—and promptly falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs as his legs folded under him.
Clive was immediately at his side, hauling him up by the waist and seating him back onto the altar.
“Would you not stretch your legs first? You’ve been lying prone for most of the day,” Clive said, sounding both fond and exasperated. “I swear, Joshua, you’ve no sense of self-preservation.”
Joshua looked at his brother incredulously, and Clive countered, “Us sharing the same trait doesn’t make it untrue.” And then he proceeded to gently massage Joshua’s legs, his palms warm. As always, Clive’s touch felt adoring and tender, and Joshua was painfully glad to feel it unchanged.
“Thank you for coming for me,” Joshua said softly.
Clive grit his teeth, though his hands on Joshua remained steady and gentle. “Not soon enough.” For of course, Clive had been in Joshua’s mind. He knew.
“It was not your fault,” Joshua said firmly. “And you killed him.”
“He is gone,” Clive confirmed. “Though I wish he wasn’t, so that I might kill him again.”
Joshua breathed in deeply, and then frowned when he felt no pull or ache from his breast. He looked down and saw nothing but smooth skin.
“We purged him,” Clive said, releasing Joshua’s leg. There was a hint of pride in his voice as he reached forward and laid his palm, rough and large, on Joshua’s bare chest. “Cleansed him with the fires of Ifrit and the Phoenix.”
“That is how we defeat him,” said Joshua, placing his own palm over Clive’s. “With the power of the other Eikons in you, and our flames merged as one.”
Clive’s face twisted then, his eyes growing wet. “I had hoped to spare you from it all, Joshua. What a dreadful Shield I turned out to be.”
Joshua reached out to him and drew him close, cupping his face lovingly in his hands. “I have never been safer than when I am with you, fighting by your side. You are the finest Shield I could ever dare hope for, and I would give you my wings and all of me because who else would be more deserving but my own beloved brother?”
Clive closed his eyes and breathed in deeply; then, he bent forward and kissed Joshua tenderly on the mouth, whispering, “And you have all of me. You always have, and always will.” And Joshua thought it the sweetest reward.