Chapter Text
"Lady Palutena?"
Things hadn't felt this eventful in a long, long time. At least…for the humans. And the Gods seemed to be busier than usual, too. Honestly, there was only one outlier who didn't feel included in whatever business both parties had with one another.
"Not now, Pit."
This was the biggest cross-world issue since their face-off with the Underworld. Was he not allowed to have any fun?
"Come on, Lady Palutena… can't you give me anything to do?"
Most of the Pit's servant duties lately had been boring old training, keeping the temple in order, and most egregiously, following around the Goddess of Light and doing whatever she liked. And in this case, lately, Pit had spent what felt like an eternity watching as she peeked down at whatever the humans were doing below the clouds.
"It's imperative that I complete this uninterrupted."
It had been close to ten human years of the same old conflict, but Palutena still hadn't done a thing about it but received a few prayers, sent down a few blessings, and—most outrageously—hadn't brought Pit down to fight once since it started. Wasn't that his whole job?
To be fair, ten years didn't feel so long to them up here. Ten years in the Overworld felt more like a handful of moments compared to what they'd all experienced. But to humans, to anyone down there really, Pit knew it could be 1/8th of their entire life ...if he remembered how to calculate it correctly. Pit was admittedly not the best at math, but he didn't exactly need to be if his life consisted of protecting and serving. It wasn't as if Palutena appointed him as head Scrivener.
"Actually…if you could stretch your wings a bit and pass me another one of those stones over there, that would be great."
And now, here sat the all-powerful Goddess of Light, sitting gracefully in her temple and administering her lightning focus to pounding out as many argumentative words as she could onto a collection of stone tablets. Pit couldn't make the words out—again, not exactly his strong suit—but he knew it related to how she felt about the human conflict.
"Wonderful. Thank you," Palutena's lips upturned mildly, and Pit would have beamed from the praise had he not been the most confused bodyguard in the world.
"...remind me again why we have to do this?"
The Goddess barely looked up from her current stone slab, etching different characters and markings that supposedly made up the language of the Gods. Pit tried squinting at the handful of others she'd kept beside her, the etchings still fresh from the day before. He sure didn't see anything familiar.
"To save humanity, of course."
Saving humanity the first two times felt invigorating. He had gotten to really use his wings without fear of falling, felt the power of Goddess running through him…all of it felt otherworldly. Pit almost missed being in danger if it meant he had something to do. Now, he felt more like Palutena's administrative foot servant than any magnificent saviour. With the number of times Palutena had "saved humanity" recently, it felt more like a chore she attended to once in a while whenever she had nothing else to attend to up here.
"I have to finish these before the sun is up, or I'll have no chance of convincing the others."
There was a war waging down in the human world. Or at least that was what Pit had heard the other centurions whispering about. The talk of war even invaded the conversations he listened to when eavesdropping on Palutena speaking with the other Gods. He could tell she was getting upset with what the others were saying about their people—Palutena was never one to pick sides unless she had to with humans—but the Goddess never let it be known it was eating at her when Pit was beside her.
Even so, the number of times Palutena had tallied up the death count from both sides, monitoring every minor update of the humans' little war, bordered close to obsessive. At least as obsessive as it could get with Gods watching little human specks in the Overworld. He didn't like how her eyes would fall each time a battle ended and a new clump of souls would leave the world. His Goddess was never one for bloodshed. Pit didn't understand why they couldn't just go down there and end the fight themselves.
"Writing stuff down doesn't seem very useful to me," he huffed and poked an upright tablet with his finger, letting the rest of them fall gently like dominoes. Palutena didn't seem to notice.
"There are rules, Pit," she said to him, in the same voice she used when she and the other Gods spoke about concepts he couldn't understand. She always promised him that he wasn't unintelligent, was just as ethereal as the rest of them up here, but if Pit had a grape for every time Palutena caught herself talking to him like a human, he would have enough to fill a vineyard. "We can't just go down and choose to help a side without talking to the others first."
Pit sighed, crossing his arms and hanging his head back to greet the worst fate he'd met yet—boredom.
"But fighting Medusa twice was totally fine? And then Hades?"
Pit knew bringing up that battle was weak. Especially when Palutena never ceased to remind him of how dangerous it was. Even if Pit had done everything in his power to save his Goddess and earn a high ranking of bravery among the few beings he talked to—which, to be very fair, wasn't that many people when he really thought about it—Palutena always said she wouldn't want to lay so much responsibility on him again. He was a servant and a hero, but never a one-man team.
Once his wings were healed and her stone form reverted, Pit couldn't forget how Palutena had grabbed him close, pulled him in, and told him that he would never have to go solo like that again.
"Pit…"
"I'm just asking!"
He wasn't talking to that Palutena right now, though. Not the protector filled with battlefield adrenaline. The Goddess of Light was also a Goddess of War, but for now, she was simply a Goddess of Wisdom. Bland, administrative wisdom. Pit almost wished the humans did something terrible enough to anger her into letting him fight.
The Goddess sighed, clearly irritated with his interrupting. He felt a little bad for annoying her so much today, but it wasn't as if he had anyone else to hang around with. Just because he was a servant to Palutena didn't mean he had to act all formal with her all the time, did it?
"Medusa was a mess that I started myself…one that I clearly didn't clean up well enough the first time. And Hades was a surprise, one that I'm happy we solved without having to notify too many others," Palutena finally looked up from her work, offering him a gentle look that melted his body with warmth just as much as it burned a hole through his chest, "The Trojans and the Achaeans are fighting against each other. It's not Gods waging war against Gods. Or humans waging war against Gods, for that matter. In fact, we're doing them a favour by trying to fight for them up here."
So the humans were angry at each other. What difference did that make? It made little sense to him why he or Palutena—or any other God—couldn't just descend from the heavens and join the war. If it was that big a deal to the humans, shouldn't the Gods share that sentiment and protect them?
"But… doesn't it make you angry that they're hurting each other down there, Lady Palutena?"
"It would be wrong of me to directly interfere in a battle that isn't my business, Pit."
"But your whole job is protecting the humans! Why can't you—"
"It's just not how it works."
"But—"
"No more buts," she cut him off harshly, "I can't have this conversation right now. If you want, we can talk about it later once a side has been chosen, but I'm already behind on these as it is, and—" the Goddess stifled herself, clearly too stressed to be thinking straight. Pit knew he'd pushed her buttons a little too hard. Her swift hand sweeping against the stone stopped when she saw the resigned look on his face.
"Sorry, Lady Palutena."
"Oh, Pit…" frustration melted off her as she smiled—familiar, comforting even though she was frustrated about the outcome of everything up here—and brought a hand out to ruffle his hair. Although there were a million ways to reach out to him using magic, light, or any godly gesture, Palutena always seemed to want physicality when words failed them both. "You're a good angel. Sometimes I think you're kind to a dangerous degree."
He knew it was a compliment, but something about how she said it made Pit want to fall back and ignore it. He wasn't being nice—he was being fair. And he knew Palutena wanted to be fair too, but the echelon of Gods and Goddesses that he never saw until something crazy happened seemed to disagree with her sentiment. Perhaps they just didn't care enough about humans and their battles. In Pit's opinion, her investment and benevolence toward mortals made her the popular figure among the people she was now.
"The other Gods need to understand why they should side with the Achaeans," her eyes closed as she spoke, as if she were sure of it. "If I present them with an argument, they'll have no choice but to listen. I've been watching both sides closely now, and the noblest heroes are evidently not from the side of Troy...though a few council members will need some convincing."
"Is…this because the Achaeans offer you the coolest things?" Pit couldn't help but ask. Palutena's eyes shot back open, eager to defend herself.
"That—isn't how it works."
"What about the warriors?" he pressed, "There's gotta be a few that you like if you're willing to take a side."
"Of course not! They're just…" she paused to pinch the bridge of her nose, face red, "I wish I could bring you into the council and let you hear for yourself, but they're very strict when things get official. Which…I need to get back to this. I promise I'll make it up to you once this all ends."
Pit perked up. An offer like that usually meant some time with his wings. Some extra training time on Skyworld would be nice, but letting him go down and help with the human action once the Gods were done arguing would be even better.
"I'll let you get to it," he gave her a lopsided smile, regaining his place next to her finished tablets. Maybe he should learn how to read this stuff if he was going to see so much of it before the next time he was deployed to the mortal world. "I know you're going to do amazing, Lady Palutena! Who wouldn't listen to someone as great as you?"
The Goddess only smiled. He hoped she took his words as seriously as he meant them.
"Thank you, Pit. For the company," Palutena stared back at her slate, letting her hand sweep away any residue from the carving, "Your point of view is refreshing, to say the least."
***
The council assembled a few hours later.
Palutena arrived at the building's entrance just as the rest of the members filed in. Pit lugged an armful of stone tablets behind her, which he didn't mind as long as he had something to do.
"Well…here we are. Thank you for helping me with these," Palutena remained quiet and poised at the door's crystal white entrance as if sensing the fierce energy inside it, "This is…probably going to be intense. But I'm certain it won't last longer than a day."
The grand council meetings didn't happen too often, but Palutena was never in a good mood when she came out of them. Pit supposed listening to your co-workers argue for an entire meeting about battle strategy was never fun. He preferred the learn-while-you-go method, anyway.
"Hey, uh…what do you want me to do with these if I can't go in?" he asked as if he'd just remembered the hunks of stone partially blocking his vision. Palutena stared blankly at him before setting her eyes on her expertly-carved work.
"Oh! That's no problem. I'll just…" She waved a hand in the air, and as if the stone grew wings, each slab floated behind her. Pit stared up in awe. A part of him wished he were up in the air with them…was he really that flight-starved?
"Wait…how come you had me carry everything over here if you could've done it the entire time?" he queried. Palutena looked around before smiling down at him. It was always so blinding. Maybe that was why she didn't take much to seeing humans in person.
"Well…a good Goddess gives her soldiers something to do," she said sheepishly as if she'd been caught doing something stupid, "Just…do me another favour and don't get yourself into trouble while I'm gone."
"I'll wait right out here," Pit cemented his feet to the ridge, overseeing the rest of the clouds. If he squinted, he could almost see the small settlements the humans were currently using for battle. "The Trojans and their deities up here don't stand a chance against you, Lady Palutena!"
A handful of faces he only really knew from legend stared back at him, some amused and some disgusted with his words. Palutena's shoulders tensed, and she turned to him, tapping the back of his head.
"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but..maybe not so loud?" she whispered to him with a slight wince, "Some of them can get a little sensitive."
"Right. Sorry." Pit stood upright, saluted, and skittered off to the side to avoid the wrath of an angry God. "You'll do great, Lady Palutena."
The Goddess smiled tensely, nodding at anyone else making their way in. Pit tried his best not to flush with embarrassment as a few extra glares came his way.
"Right," Palutena nodded, letting the tablets dance in the air behind her, "This'll be quick. Piece of cake."
"Cake?"
"What? Pit, that's just—" she stopped, not bothering to answer. "Just be good out here, okay? I'll come and find you when I need you."
The Goddess marched in, and Pit watched as the door shut behind her. He expected to be able to listen in on what everyone was saying in there, but the shut door rendered the room entirely soundproof. Blowing a piece of his hair out of his eyes, Pit readjusted the laurel crown on his head from Palutena's light scolding. He just had to preoccupy himself for a few hours…which didn't seem too hard, but he promised Palutena he'd stay in the area and not get into too much trouble. He supposed there wasn't much trouble he could get into with every God in the same room together.
Without warning, a rush of warm air flooded the bridge, the temperature around him growing hazy and humid, the clouds growing weak. It almost felt like where the humans lived, or worse, the Underworld. Pit retracted his previous statement. It seemed that nearly every God had assembled beyond that door. Clearly, there were some exceptions, including the shadow that had found its way over to him.
"Enjoying the view, angel?"
Pit didn't bother turning around as a thinly bearded man in a striking red robe stepped beside him. Although the words weren't threatening, Pit had been around long enough to realize when someone was trying to infer things beyond what they said. A sword and shield were strapped tightly to his back, and the gear jangled against itself as he walked. The God smiled down at the small display below the clouds, his brown eyes bright with a greed that he hadn't quite seen in his own Goddess.
It's one of the big guys, Pit couldn't help but think as he stared at the man. One eye stared at his people, the other trailing down to stare at…him. Pit couldn't help but swallow, even on the off chance that this guy was friendly. Or harmless. Neither of those hopes seemed realistic at this point.
"I—yeah," Pit replied awkwardly, trying to be as collected as possible, just as Palutena had taught him in case he would ever have to confront someone powerful without her. Needless to say, Pit still wasn't very good at following directions. He'd messed up his words more times than he could count. “The view is pretty scenic up here, Lord…”
"Aris, the deity bellowed. His voice was deep and commanding. Great power seeped out of him just from the force of his voice. "God of courage. God of War."
Pit wasn't sure if confronting him up here was a good thing or a bad thing. He wasn't even sure why he was being talked to without his Goddess around to make things worthwhile for him, but even so, Aris turned and loomed over him, awaiting his response.
"Forgive me, Lord Aris," Pit recited the lines he'd been fed since he was a child under her watch. He still couldn't help but go off script, "God of War, huh? I'm pretty sure Lady Palutena's a Goddess of War. Sometimes, at least. Do you two…ever talk? About fighting and stuff?"
Aris turned his head and cracked a humourless smile.
"Ha." his fake laughter turned to stone with his dead-cold smile just as something dropped in Pit's stomach. "No, angel. I don't believe we do."
Alright…this was getting a bit too weird. The God of War wasn't cruelly evil like Hades, at least from what he could remember Palutena saying, but he quickly realizing the man seemed to like his formalities.
"Oh, I…sorry. I guess I shouldn't have assumed," Pit's shoulders shrunk closer together, his wings growing tense as he realized he'd left all weapons back at the temple in favour of carrying those stones. The deity continued to speak, not bothering to look back down at him this time.
"Where Goddess Palutena fails at the art of war is applying practicality to suffering," Aris gestured out into the open skies in front of them, then back at the minuscule human settlements below. "War does not have logical reasoning. War is, and always will be."
…huh?
Pit was never one for fancy, divine hypotheticals. He wondered if Aris had any experience fighting alongside humans like he did instead of looking down at them above the clouds. Just because this guy's a war God doesn't mean he knows better than anyone else.
The aura felt increasingly uncomfortable, but Pit knew he couldn't run from a God like this. He thought about calling on Palutena, but he was sure the meeting had already started. He knew the ability to hear his voice was blocked until further notice. He would have to defend his position himself.
What angel couldn't do that? Much less an angel commander
"I'll have you know that I serve under Lady Palutena," he puffed out his wings, staring back up at the menacing being before him, "And I don't appreciate you talking about her that way, Lord Aris. Helping humans is her job. It's not a game to her...or a hindrance like it is with you."
A rush of confident yet fearful adrenaline hit him after he spoke. He used that last word correctly, right? The God's broken smile looked more like a glare now, as if he were tired of keeping up his awful attempt at friendliness. Pit felt his wings start to cower, but he didn't back down.
"Meddling," Aris growled, "The degree to which she helps them is meddling. The way she wants every little speck on that earth to look up to her and the noble art of war is…" he paused, "It's a lot like you, little angel. You've been meddling in a battle that's not yours, haven't you?"
The shadow of a hand loomed over his head, and Pit felt a cold, claw-like hand clamp down on his shoulder as if to remind Pit that he was at least three times his height. It was working. Hades was one thing. Aggressive, daunting, assertive. This was an entirely different type of power, levelled in cold, stoic strength.
"I'm not…" his words failed him, something that never happened, and he felt the hand clamp down harder. Pain sparked up his shoulder as the sickening power of a God sunk into his arm. He tried to scowl, but with nothing but pain shooting through the right side of his body, he couldn't keep an expression that wasn't just a little bit illustrative of his true feelings. Be polite, Pit. He could hear Palutena's commands echoing in his head. Try not to get into any trouble. "Please—unhand me, or I'll have no choice but to—"
Aris wasn't listening. Or maybe he was, but chose to ignore him. Either way, the God leaned in enough to shut him up and pointed down toward the Overworld with a thick, veiny finger.
"Would you tell me what you think of those Trojans now, little angel? Now that your babysitter isn't here to protect her winged child?" he leaned closer and closer until they were both nearly teetering off the edge. "What do you know about war? What makes you think you can talk over the voices of the Gods?"
Pit felt an unusual dread flare up in his chest, his mind just now catching up and reflecting on how stupid he'd been around someone so dangerous. Even if Palutena came out right this moment and defended him as he cowered behind her and tried to look brave, all of this was still his fault, to begin with. He and his big mouth. If only he just—
“And now…look at that… I'm late to our council, all because of the encumbrance of one boy…" Aris shook his head and kept Pit by his side, still encapsulating him in a deathly shoulder grip. "Tell you what, angel? If you're so insistent on acting like a human, how would you like to join them down there? For their little battle?"
And Pit, despite fearing whatever punishment a God like Aris would impose on him, couldn't help but wonder if he managed to get off easy. He'd been to the Overworld so many times he couldn't help but think of some of the humans as his friends. Aris had to know what Pit and his Goddess had done to save the humans from ruin before. If anything, they might celebrate him, help him get back up to the clouds in exchange for what he'd done for them not long ago.
"Lady Palutena won't be happy when she realizes I'm gone," he couldn't help but spit back instead. Aris looked down at him, like scum at the bottom of his boot.
"Oh my, little angel. I like to think I'm doing her a bit of favour," he turned his head coolly, facing the front of the council room, "If she's too soft to rid herself of a flightless servant, I have no issue doing it for her."
Before Pit could let out another word or noise of protest, Aris took him by the bare shoulder, the one already weakened under his grip, and threw him off the side of the cloudy ridge. Pit felt his vision blur, disoriented as his head seemed to be where his feet should be. Almost on instinct, his wings opened up, ready to catch the wind in the air. Instead, a piercing red beam appeared in the sky, taking the angel with it before dematerializing within seconds.
"It's a shame I can't watch this happen in real time," he sighed, flicking off a few feathers that managed to stick to his hand's grip. "I'll have to settle for reruns."
And with that, the God turned and stepped into the meeting that decided the fate of their humans, if not a little bit fashionably late. If anyone had heard the encounter, they didn't bother to follow up. Important business was afoot, after all. It certainly didn't concern any little angels or their opinions.
***
Each time Pit came down to see the humans, it was always for combat or protection. Whether he was befriending humans or inadvertently fighting against them, it was always with the intent that he would have something to fight for or fight against. Despite this constant threat of danger, Pit wasn't used to being down there without a safety net around him. An entity like the other version of himself, or a Goddess like Palutena—even someone like Viridi—to help keep him afloat.
This might be the first time he's been out alone, without anyone, since fighting to save everyone from the Chaos Kin. Before that…when was the last time he'd been so defenceless? Before Palutena? Pit wasn't sure if there was a before.
Although he expected Aris to drop him right in the middle of a battle, perhaps among the squalor of the lowest or in the lair of the most dangerous humans, he found upon waking that there wasn't much pain to his fall, besides a bit of a headache. In fact, what he expected to be damp grass, cool dirt, or harsh, head-splitting stone was much more comfortable than he anticipated. It almost felt like…a pillow?
His hand reached out to pat the surface underneath him, his eyes still foggy with tiredness. Heading downward through the doing of a God was much more strenuous when he had no wings to catch himself. He doubted Aris had healed him if he'd been injured…he couldn't remember the conversation too clearly now, but he knew the man wasn't exactly sympathetic.
Pit's inner thoughts all shot back to his immediate state, his body adjusting to being awake.
Many…pillows?
Pit's limbs reached out to stretch, flexing each muscle in his body, even his useless wings. The comfortable space he found himself in seemed endless until he opened his eyes and found himself in a large bed. The sheets a perfect white with gold trim, and the pillows on either side of him were a deep, enticing red. The sight of it felt almost intoxicating.
Pit would be satisfied staying here for longer, but he knew he couldn't. His curiosity always got the better of him. And if Palutena found out he was lazing around in such a comfortable place while a human war was devastating the region, she would demote him so far down that he would never be able to see humankind again.
As he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and hesitantly grabbing the golden halo meant for his head off the limestone pedestal sat next to the bed. The rest of his clothes, including his shoes, stayed intact on his body. Whoever found him seemed too respectable to touch the rest of him. Looking closer at the room, whoever rescued him seemed pretty loaded. The walls were covered with golden ornaments, including a few precious items on the ground that seemed more like the offering Palutena would accept on the days Pit accompanied her to the temple.
Before Pit could ask himself where exactly he was, the door opened quietly, and a young woman retracted with a yelp the moment she laid eyes on him. Equally startled, Pit fell backward, his wings hitting the pillow and flying open behind him. The woman, dressed smooth white cloth let out another cry. The intricate pitcher she held in her arms jumped back with her, spilling a bit of water out of the sides.
"Hello," Pit leaned forward hesitantly, reaching out his hand to greet her. It felt like it had been years since he'd seen another human…maybe it was. For them, at least. Pit wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, perhaps something to scare her off, but with her arms still hugging the pitcher, she turned, running back down the hall. Pit shot up after her. "Hey! Wait! Please, I won't-" What was it that angels said? "Be…be not afraid!" That didn't sound right…was that really what Palutena had taught him to say? The last human he really spoke to was Magnus, and he didn't remember having to say anything too specific.
"Please! Come back!" He called out. Part of him wanted to get up and chase after her, thank her for her hospitality and tell her that she would be in Palutena's good books from now on, but he didn't have to move another muscle before the young woman was back, followed by a small crowd of others dressed in those same white robes. Not one of them said a word.
Pit hadn't realized what everyone in the room was staring at until he followed their gaze past his head, behind him, to…his wings. Pit had forgotten about them until their shadow caught his eye, and he realized he'd opened them fully, letting them take in the light.
"So it's true…" a tall, stouter man pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He stared at the marvellous display, taking it in with eyes that almost seemed greedy with how they looked him up and down, then back up again. "Those wings…"
Pit let them close up, gently folding up behind his back. He wasn't sure why he felt so self-conscious about them suddenly. Maybe because he hadn't gotten much commentary on them before. The last time someone paid attention to his wings was when they were injured beyond his comprehension.
Palutena made it obvious when she didn't want to discuss some things. His wings, and more so their lack of function, were something he knew she liked to keep to a minimum. It was a sensitive spot, perhaps for both of them.
"I didn't mean to scare you all with them," Pit finally spoke, letting the awed, nobler man inch closer to the bed, hoping to get more of a glimpse. Pit felt them twitch under pressure. The man's uniform shimmered with gold as bright as the decor in the room.
"When my foot soldiers found you outside our walls, I was worried those wings were fake," the man met his eyes, offering a calm smile. Pit felt a surge of warmth, or maybe curiosity. This man felt important. "I wasn't sure if your winged appearance was a trick from the other side, but your clothes…the way the soldiers found you falling from the sky…"
Fallen from the sky? So Aris did drop him in the middle of the war. He got lucky, being rescued, and by a human nonetheless. He could have laughed at the role reversal.
"Thank you. For helping me," Remembering his manners, Pit bowed his head toward the nobleman and the humans dressed in white, something he wasn't sure he'd ever done to a human before. "I'll assure you and your people are in the favour of the Gods."
The group in white gasped, eyes glowing and one falling into the doorframe dramatically. Pit tried not to smile and was happy he had a bit of impulse control when the nobleman looked away, his hands gripping the white blankets Pit still lay upon.
"I give you my most gracious apologies," the man bowed his head back, eyes still fixated on those wings of his, "The war has been hard for us. Ten years…some of my children…my youngest daughter…they have never seen a life of peace. A blessing from a winged ethereal such as yourself means much to my kingdom."
"Your kingdom," Pit leaned forward, trying to put two and two together. The nobleman didn't give him time to come to reply, extending out his hand in a greeting.
"Alexander," he smiled. It felt cold, perhaps from his years having to fight, yet equally enticing. "Prince of Troy."
Troy. He was in Troy. Aris hadn't put him on the other side, had he? He hoped he didn't get in trouble for fraternizing with the technical enemy. However, the Trojans didn't seem so evil now that he was sitting in a glamorous kingdom room surrounded by gold and awestruck subjects.
"Nice to meet you! It's Pit," he shook the man's hand, hesitating as the white-dressed humans behind them stifled their awe. He didn't remember the humans valuing an angel like him so terribly. If anything, the humans seemed like nothing more than specks that he was willing to save. He didn't know they were so…capable. And awed by being like him.
Pit remembered Palutena telling him once that war could change humans from a meek species to a group of powerful kingdoms imitating the Gods. Or stepping entirely out of line, he remembered Viridi countered within the same breath.
"You are just breathtaking," Alexander walked close to him, enough that Pit could feel his breath on the tip of his bare arm, "I apologize if what I'm about to say is insulting, your Greatness. But I would like to ask if you could provide evidence of your magic…if they're real, not an Achaean trick…"
Pit could hear a hint of skepticism in the man's voice, something he wasn't used to when confronting humans with Palutena, but he couldn't help but think about the hardships these humans had endured while Pit was watching distantly from the sky. Maybe he could help them. When Palutena came down to get him, perhaps he could convince her to end the war peacefully.
"My wings?"
They opened up again on instinct, and Alexander stared back at them, starstruck. Pit felt them flutter up against his shoulders. He had power here, didn't he? Maybe he could work the angel magic that Palutena always encouraged of him.
Perhaps he could shed some light.
"Marvellous," Alexander's mouth upturned, almost unnaturally so. Pit knew what he could do.
"My wings are…out of commission. Injured from my fall," he fibbed only slightly, altering the story he'd known since coming under the care of his Goddess, "But I can give you this."
Wordlessly, Pit ran a hand through his wings, sifting through lines of feathers until he found a more mature one, a feather that might have fallen out anyway without his influence. Getting a good grip on it, Pit winced as his two fingers squeezed the tip that burrowed into his wing. He tried to ignore the slight pinch that rippled through the rest of his skin, and with a gentle hand, he passed the feather off to the Prince.
"I swear to you," he smiled, "And I offer this token as a promise."
Alexander stared down at the feather, still warm from its contact with his skin. The sharp end glowed golden, a remnant of Palutena's magic or his time in the healing spring. With a desperate look of joy, Alexander turned and laughed, holding the shimmering feather in the sunlight.
"The mark of a God!" He declared, and the subjects in white burst out into cheers. The feather was placed in the hands of an eager young man as Alexander began shooting out orders faster than Pit could follow. "I want this ethereal charm memorialized immediately. And you—prepare a divine meal fit for a God like himself. You two, I want our finest wine brought to this room. I need a white cloth and a servant to polish his sandals and crown. Go!"
The servants hopped to it, and to Pit's amazement, most had returned to the room at lightning speed, addressing him without looking him in the eyes and bringing bowls of fruit and wine, ambrosia in amounts that even Palutena hadn't seen in one sitting.
Good thing he was starving.
"I must ask you how you came down to us!" the hours slipped by, and Alexander poured him another glass of something profound and purple. Pit leaned back and let his wings open again, a selfish sort of warmness blossoming in his chest when the Prince clapped his hands with an over-saturated glee. He hadn't felt this appreciated in…a long time. Pit been working pretty hard lately, hadn't he? It seemed like all he got these days was a scolding from Palutena or the other Gods. Troy didn't seem so bad.
"Mmmh.. cam't… r'member," he spoke, his mouth full of something delicious. Much better than whatever floor ice cream he'd eaten on his past missions with the humans. He swallowed. "I was sent down to experience the war below the clouds. If my wings were working and my weapons were here, I'd be on that battlefield!"
“It’s…quite gruesome…” Alexander admitted, "Achaeans are ruthless, jealous things. Jealous of my wife, my children, my kingdom. They're quite upset about my relationship with your Goddess. They simply want what I have with her."
The Prince was in contact with…Palutena? His Goddess, who prioritized the least direct involvement in the war? Who vehemently preferred the side fighting against these people? Was there something she wasn't telling him?
"Hmm?" He spoke through another mouthful. The sun shone peacefully through the large window. Without prior knowledge, Pit wouldn't have guessed a war was waging beyond these walls.
"I'm overjoyed that you're enjoying your time here. Truly," Alexander smiled down upon him, snapping his fingers at another white-garbed servant, who gently wiped down the laurel on his head, her hands smoothing down a few of his loose, wispy hairs.
"Mmmf..you guys are all great…" And this food was even better… He'd already forgotten what the Prince had said before. Something about Lady Palutena? Perhaps he was just slightly intoxicated from everything they'd offered him. He sure wasn't used to it.
Palutena wasn't here to scold him for overindulging. She was likely still in that stuffy, important meeting that no one would let him hear. In fact, he hadn't been so happy without her before, connecting to a group of subjects that truly thought of him as something extraordinary. He enjoyed his life as a commander, but this treatment made him want to come down and interact with humans more often, even during times of peace.
Alexander poured another glass for himself, clinking Pit's cup with his.
"Oh, what ecstasy," he grinned wildly, "We'll surely win this war now. You are a sign."
Pit laughed, sounding a bit like a child. "I don't know if I'd say—" Alexander interrupted him before he could finish his thoughtless response.
"To have an Erote such as yourself grace us with your presence. It's beyond wonderful."
Pit's next swallow was harsher, even with the drink after it. He blinked, ignorant of the impact behind such an assumption. "Erote?"
Alexander's smile didn't falter, but Pit noticed as his eyes shed a bit of that wild glow. "Yes, an Erote. A winged child who brings promises of love and prosperity. Sent down by Lady Cytherea, of course. My Cytherea."
It didn't come as a surprise to Pit that they thought he was something else. He learned the hard way that no one really treated angels like Gods. Pit supposed he was close enough, but his Goddess always told him not to lie, even to something as mortal as a human.
"Lady Cytherea? No...I don't work for her," he said, matter of factly, "She's alright, but I'm a commander under Lady Palutena."
Pit didn't even think he'd had a whole conversation with Cytherea, instead treading behind Palutena as the two civilly greeted one another at mandatory gatherings or trying not to bicker when the two didn't see eye to eye. Despite her proclaimed role as the most beautiful Goddess among them, Pit always thought Palutena was more beautiful in her simplicity.
Don't bother with Erotes, Palutena had said to him once when he was a little bit younger and still looking for friends to play with. They're full of themselves. They'll only make fun of you for being unable to fly like them.
As if the Centurions hadn't done that already, he remembered wanting to snap back. But he was her Goddess. He knew she was only trying to help him. Perhaps, as usual, she was right.
Alexander's cup paused against his lips, expression melding into something unreadable. Pit grabbed another piece of fruit from one of the bowls, his body growing accustomed to the bed he'd been lying on when a well-manicured hand stopped him.
"I'd like to show you something," that smile was back on his face, and Pit felt slightly more at ease. He hoped the man decided to overlook their misunderstanding. "Would you follow me this way?"
"Sure thing!"
Pit readjusted his circular crown and stretched out his legs before hopping up and following the Prince down the winding hallway, passing by servants rushing past him with pitchers and trays, trying not to linger at the sight of him for too long.
"This is my castle," Alexander gestured to the limestone walls, glowing as the sun began to peak in the sky. Pit knew the humans could create villages and kingdoms, but Troy's walls seemed untouchable. He wished he'd been listening in on Palutena's conversations about the war. He'd tuned them out the moment she barred him from going down to help him. "I'd love to give you a tour."
If only she was out of her council meeting, she could see how well he was doing on his own. Befriending Princes, having servants of his own bow down to even the sight of his wings, he made it all look flawless. Humans weren't as cruel, unjust, and unpredictable as Aris had warned him and surely not as stupid as Palutena and Viridi made them out to be.
"Wow…" Pit gazed upon all the intricacies: the soldiers training to fight out in the open courtyard, a group of women working to mend a pile of armour and cloth, a pair of Trojans with hammers repairing the wheels of a chariot. Pit had seen war but never quite at such a meticulous scale. Impressed, he looked up to smile at the Prince. When Alexander continued walking briskly beside him instead, he opened his wings to grab his attention again. That righteous feeling from before leaked out of his chest and into his stomach when the man barely lent him an eye.
"This way," the Prince finally instructed, sending them down a winding flight of stairs lit by torches.
Pit grew increasingly suspicious at the darkness meeting them at the bottom of the seemingly endless steps. He thought to turn around and walk back the other way, but Alexander's hand was on his back, fingers brushing the tips of his feathers. Looking back at the last bit of natural light, Alexander guided him downward until they reached the last stair.
"Where are you taking me?" Pit still kept that inviting smile on his face. He wanted to avoid jumping to conclusions, especially since he had no power or weapons to back him up until Palutena came to check on him. He knew he shouldn't be rude to his hosts after they had rescued him and given him so much already. He hoped Alexander just wanted him to have the full tour of the place, including the creepy, dark hallway they were now walking through.
"I'd like you to meet someone," the Prince replied slowly. Through a door in the very bottom of the castle, Pit was met with an exit to the castle and an explosion of natural light, the sun well past its peak and beginning to head downwards. The area, partially shaded with trees and roofing, still boasted a way to see up into the sky.
With a few soldiers practising their moves on the largest tree, its trunk sliced up from years of practice and wear, Pit could only guess this secluded courtyard was some kind of smaller training ground. It was lovely and quiet, far away from the faint bustling of the rest of the kingdom above and below them.
"Hektor," Alexander called out to the small groups of fighters. The burliest one turned his head, nodding at the Prince in greeting. Upon seeing Pit's less-than-mortal appearance, his face changed expression from stoic to surprised.
"Petro. This is my brother," Alexander pushed him forward a little too harshly. Pit felt his shoulders tense up, just as they had with Aris' grip on his arm. He barely had the voice to protest, for he knew the Prince likely wouldn't listen as he turned his head and stepped back to stand his ground.
"It's Pit, actually.”
"Right, yes…" Alexander brushed him off, and Pit watched as Hektor turned to look at him again, then back up at his brother. "This…winged creature is an agent of the Goddess Palutena."
Hektor's expression didn't change.
Something here felt much too off, he was realizing now. The Prince's smile was too tightly wrapped around his face, his brother too quiet as they gazed down upon him, at his eyes and wings. These people wouldn't stop looking at his wings.
As if the two brothers shared some silent code like he and his Goddess, Hektor stepped forward, not even attempting a forced smile like the Prince.
"Greetings."
The man spoke briskly but not coldly. Still, Pit felt too trapped within the confines of this hidden little courtyard. He wishes he could just fly out of here. Part of him wished he was just an Erote, after all. How had he gotten himself into this?
Hektor had something lingering in his hand, hidden behind his back. "Come here for a moment."
"What do you want with me?" Pit's voice lowered, instinctively reaching for a weapon he didn't have. Neither of them answered as Hektor lunged forward, tripping Pit with a foot that hadn't made its way into his peripheral until it was already too late, and he came toppling to the ground, not even his wings able to catch his balance.
"Trickster…" was the last thing he heard from the Prince as his head hit the limestone floor. The crushing weight of what felt like one of Alexander's pristine sandals came crunching into his back, pinning him down. Pit's head was spinning, his vision seeing double as a pair of dulled combat shoes entered his vision.
"Easier than I…" drifted into his ear, barely registering the deeper voice belonging to the fading figure before him. In a sorry attempt to fight back, Pit's arms buckled as he tried to lift himself up. Before he could see it coming his way, a swift thud hit the back of his head. A dull, buzzing pain covered the back of his head like white noise, trickling into his system and taking the breath out of him. His consciousness followed.
If Palutena had been training with him—like they usually would at this hour of the day—Pit knew precisely what she would say.
KO.