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Prologue
“Do you see that?” Cyno gestured at the plate with two shawarma wraps in front of him. He couldn’t believe his luck. Finding a vendor that sold meat on a discount? He must be the luckiest guy in the world. It was a relief too, because he’d only managed to find some edible redcrests recently - and no matter what he tried, Razor just wouldn’t eat the fruit. Of course he had to get the little brother with eating problems. He was barely two and already that picky? He thought it could only get worse later. What was he gonna do then? A concern for a later date. A huge grin spread over his face when he saw his little brother's red eyes shine and his mouth smile. At least, Cyno thought he was smiling. Razor wasn’t very expressive for a toddler.
He knew his brother could smile, laugh, and he knew Razor could speak as well, but for whatever reason he didn’t. And that was okay. Cyno had never been the most vocal either. That was until he got Razor, at least. The small body in his arms stirred, and Cyno unwrapped the blanket he held the child in. It was already late, and starting to get ice cold, but food was more important. He agreed with that. He pulled Razor up into his lap and handed the kid his own shawarma wrap. It should be way too big for such a small kid, but Razor could eat like a wolf. He was probably starving too after three days. Cyno understood. Living outside must be even tougher on Razor than it was for him. He made sure Razor could eat alright, holding dinner steady between those little fingers of his. It was a relief he no longer had to feed his brother. When he was assured that Razor would be just fine he took a bite of his own wrap. They hadn’t eaten this well in days. He silently thanked whichever God was responsible for a miracle like this.
He stared up at the moon climbing the sky as he ate, letting his mind wander away, soothed by the chirpy happy noises of his brother's voice. It felt good to have a warm prepared meal again. All the beetles he’d been gathering had been worth it when they led to a real meal like this. Life was good. He sighed, thoughtfully chewing on a piece of meat. Cyno couldn’t even convince himself anymore. This was shit. How could he ever offer Razor the life he deserved to live like this? He needed help, even if in the whole desert there was none. Maybe they should seek some help on the other side of the wall of Samael. The Akademiya had guards, didn’t it? If he became one of those, then he could earn some pocket money and learn how to protect his brother even better. “Let’s go to the city tomorrow, just you and I, yeah? I’m sure we’ll find someone to take care of us there. What do you say.. wanna get another family member? How about a wolf huh?” Cyno laughed at the excited stirring and keening baby noises that got out of Razor. Weird kid.. The only wolves that inhabited the desert were enemies, yet still he was so fond of them.
“What do you think buddy. Think that’d be pawsible? Or do you think that’d be too ruff?” He puffed his chest up proudly at the giggles his jokes earned him. He was getting better every day! He took the last bite of his wrap, noticing Razor's meal had already been disintegrated. A fast eater that one was. “Then go to sleep, Razor. I’ll bring us there.”
“Night, Cy’o.” Razor mumbled, already drifting off in his arms.
“Goodnight, Razor. I promise your big brother will keep you safe.” Wrapping Razor up in his blankets again, Cyno stood up and took his spear. Little did he know then that that would be a promise he wouldn’t get to keep.
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Cyno frantically glanced around, searching for any way out.There was an opening, it was right there, he knew it, but he wouldn’t go. He couldn’t go. Not when he could hear the usually so silent voice of his younger brother crying at full volume, his throat likely just as sore as Cyno’s own. Razor.. Cyno was glaring daggers right at the man in front of him. The one that was the clear leader of the group, a dark skinned man with those signature braids all eremites wore, and a scar over his eyes so large that it peaked out from both sides of the blindfold he wore. The man over whose shoulder he could just barely spot the silver locks of hair belonging to the cause of all this noise. The ropes that bound together his hands were pointless, but as long as Razor was in that man's arms he would not be able to escape. He could never run away on his own.
It had been bright and early when Cyno was rudely awakened by the choked gasps of his brother. An almost indistinguishable sound among the many sweeping winds, but one that would always manage to catch his attention. Something was wrong. Razor- !
As tight as he always held his little brother in his hands. He was missing, the spot where he rested empty, and before he had good and well woken up. Cyno realised exactly why. His own spear pricked into his back just between his shoulder blades, was all that it took for him to come to his senses. But then it was already too late.
“AARH! Ma bik 'ayuha alkalb allaeaynu! Ayreh feek!”
He was rudely woken up from his recalling of past events by a pained shout and a string of curses, smiling softly as he realised what had happened. Razor must have bitten him, like he did to any stranger trying to touch him. An opportunity. His body moved before his mind could. He dashed to the side and around the big guy. Fortunately, speed had always been his greatest strength. He brought the rope between his hands up to his mouth, viciously digging his teeth into the firm fibres to tear away at them. It was thicker than he’d thought, but his sharp canines managed to bite through it anyway. With his arms released he reared up, spun around on his legs, and landed a hit right into the stomach of the man with the scar.
The man without a name didn’t even stumble.
It was too weak.
Cyno was too weak.
Unfortunately, speed had always been his greatest strength.
He spotted the hand of his smaller brother reaching out to him, and he reached back. “Razor!” His shouting hurt his sore throat, his ears, but he didn’t care as long as he could reach his younger brother. But his resistance was useless, the attempt too desperate. He didn’t notice the fist of their kidnapper approaching his face in time.
And everything went black.
Cyno awoke with no idea of how much time had passed. Everything was silent. Why was it silent?? His head shot up, the world still blurry. He didn’t remember much, but he knew on instinct that he should be hearing Razor. Razor always got fussy when he wasn’t with Cyno. Razor- As his vision sharpened his situation became clearer to him. The way the desert bounced up and down before his eyes, The way his body was pressed down harshly against a warm but hard object, his arms incapable of any movement he instructed them to. He was being carried over someone's shoulder, facing backwards, unable to see their destination. Only the endless deserts he had crossed through for weeks meeting him.
He stirred again when he heard a noise. It sounded much like Razor’s raspy throat readying to cry. He must have sensed Cyno’s unease. Despite the situation, he needed to calm himself down. “Hey, shh, shh, it’s okay Razor” he barely recognised his own voice with how frail he sounded. Not good. Yet hearing him was enough for his little brother. He felt two smaller legs wrap around his leg. That is how their captor had been able to quiet his little brother. They were carried together. He smiled sadly. Even if he had been brought closer to his brother now, with his arms bound, draped over the shoulder of a man much bigger than himself, Cyno had no chance of escape. “You’ll be okay Razor. We will be okay.”
But he knew that it was a lie.
Time seemed to pass endlessly slow. He knew these were likely the last moments of his life, but he at least wished they would have been quicker. The end was coming, but its approach was painfully slow.
After some unknown amount of time passed they entered somewhere. He couldn’t see the outside of the building, but when he looked at the walls they passed after they entered, he figured that it was some kind of desert structure, akin to the bottom of the pyramids. As the heavy looking door got shut behind them, and two eremites picked up the duty to stand guard, he knew that he truly wasn’t getting out now. Descending down the stairs of the ruin, he felt the last of his hope drain away. There really was no escape.
Cyno got picked up off of the eremites shoulder and placed on the ground, barely able to find out how to stand before he got shoved forward so hard he stumbled and fell to the ground. Unable to save himself with his arms behind his back he face planted onto the sandy temple floor, letting out a deep grunt. His body was sore. Everything hurt. Before him was a couple, a man and a woman, looking equally as scared as him, clutching onto each other to try and relieve themselves of their worries, to ease their pain. In his last moments, he would like to do the same.
He gathered all the strength he had and pushed himself to his knees with his face. The amount of sand that had gotten into his hair would take years to clean out. Not that he still had those left. He turned around and held out his hands, mumbling “please..” though he had his doubts about whether the Eremites were able to understand him or not. The man with the scar over his eye crouched down, looking at him with a smirk on his face. Cyno wished he had the power to take it away from him, but he was too weak now. If he managed to come out of this alive, then he vowed to himself, this man would not know a merciful death.
He grit his teeth when the eremite pulled out a dagger, his face not easing up any when it was used to cut away the ropes binding his hands. Red circles had been drawn where he tried to resist them before, but it was hardly anything that mattered now. “Razor” he spoke as he gazed up into the big, beady eyes of his younger brother. If he had to go, he wanted to be able to say goodbye to him. “Please.” The man's smirk did not ease up in the slightest, it got worse, but despite everything he plucked the small boy off of his chest and unceremoniously dumped him into Cyno’s arms.
Whether it was Razor’s constant crying when apart from him that convinced the criminal, or a blessing from Celestia itself, he didn't care. He had his little brother back. He clutched Razor so close to his chest that it hurt. It hurt him, of course. Not Razor. Never his smaller brother. “Razor.. You’re safe.. You’re safe now. Big bro isn’t leaving you.. I promise.” He blinked to stop the waterworks trying to make their way out of his eyes. He was lying. He hated having to lie. He despised untruths of any kind. But right now, if he told Razor the truth, he would no longer be able to keep it together. He had to make sure, things would be alright in the end.
Cyno shuffled against the wall next to the couple when he felt the piercing gaze into his back, holding his little brother pressed against his chest at all times. He didn’t spare the other two much of a glance. He could hear them speak some kind of language he could not understand too. Holding conversation was pointless, then. Not that he would know what to speak about in the first place. In all likelihood they were all about to die. Neither Cyno, nor Razor was worth a bounty of any sort. There was no other possibility.
“Can you understand me?”
Cyno looked strangely to the side, the woman's words perfectly clear to him now, despite not having had any understanding of them before. He wordlessly nodded. The woman smiled softly. She seemed overjoyed, though the situation put quite the damper on her spirits. He understood.
“My name is Sanirah, and this is my husband, Finn. We are adventurers now, but I used to study under the Haravatat darshan at the Akademiya. That is how I know your language.” Cyno nodded again, unsure how to respond. So she could speak to him. The man, her husband? He still looked as clueless as ever. “Can I ask who that is? You care a lot for him, clearly” Sanirah pointed out Razor, who had fully curled up in his arms now.
Cyno responded, as there was no reason not to, aside from the burning feeling in his throat. He had never let himself be held back by his body's protest anyways. “He is my little brother. Razor is his name. He is all I have.” He gazed back at her, swallowing down his pride, his fear, any hesitation he might have at all. “If I die, please take care of him.” The promise would be worth nothing. They would all die, together, but just in case.. In case there was any chance left at all. He needed at least this one reassurance.
“Of course, I promise.” She agreed easily. Maybe it was his desperation, or the clear determination in his eyes that spoke of him never giving up, but she didn’t try to argue with him at all. Cyno held out his hand, his eyes piercing. She easily took it with hers. Despite her small stature, it was still much bigger than his. He was only eight after all.
“I’m Cyno. Thank you.” He chose to ease up, even if just slightly. He had never been very adept at trusting others, but found it easier to do so now, when he literally had nothing to lose.
“Can you.. Understand them?” Cyno broke through the short silence. He saw the way the woman looked down. She swallowed the spit building up in her throat, her body grew more tense. He needed no answer. “What did they say? Tell me.”
She seemed as if she had just seen a ghost. She must not enjoy being put on the spot like this. Cyno felt very sorry for her, but that would not stop him from pressing for more. Clearly she knew something. Something she did not want to share. “Cyno… It would likely be better if you did not know.” There she went, trying to protect her like all adults did. But none ever really helped. His innocence wasn’t the thing at risk here. It was his life. And his brother's life. So he wanted to know. “Tell me.” He repeated, not once glancing away. She shifted around more. Her discomfort was clear to him, but would not make him ease up. “Tell me what they said, Sanirah.”
The poor woman stiffened under his harsh tone. He saw the man's concern - Finn? That didn’t sound like a name from the desert. Not even Sumeru in general - but Sanirah raised her hand to stop him from taking any action at all. She seemed to have made up her mind. “Cyno, they called you their First Sacrifice. Your brother the second. Today, you will die. They will slice your throa-”
“Stop!” Cyno’s shout surprised even himself. He knew this, yet this.. His attention focussed instantly on Razor when he felt movement coming from him. The small bundle of joy in his arms shifted around, looking up at him with a worried expression. He suddenly felt thankful for how slow Razor had been to develop his words. He didn’t understand much, blissfully unaware of the situation. The only reason he seemed so concerned now was due to Cyno’s behaviour.
“Did I wake you up? I am sorry. You can go to sleep again. I am fine, see?” He eased his heartbeat. He knew Razor could never believe him if it stayed so erratic. Then he smiled, petting his little brother's silver locks of hair. He reached into his pocket, where much to his relief, he still found the plush wolf his brother loved so much. He handed it over to him, watching a bright smile light up his face. No, he couldn’t give up yet. He had his brother to save.
As Razor stayed distracted, making quiet nonsense noises as he pushed his face into the stuffed toy, he turned his head to Sanirah again. “I understand. I see the situation we are in.. But he will not die. Not today. I refuse.” His brother was only two. He still had so many years left to live. He refused to let Razor’s life be cut short by even a day.
The woman smiled a sad smile, he knew it meant she didn’t believe him. No doubt thought he was full of foolish hope. What was with adults? They always underestimated him and his abilities. They thought he was powerless. Though he was weak. But no matter how weak he was, at least he would try. He had to. He had to.
Time passed largely in silence. His body was shivering, the temple much colder than the blistering desert air outside, by the time anything happened. He’d been hearing more and more voices, and saw eremites coming into the small underground temple. This was really happening, wasn’t it? They were talking. He did not understand a word they said, but a glance to his side and the expression on Sanirah’s face told him enough. She was terrified. He thought that he should be too, but there was no way. He had to keep control of his emotions or the situation would just get even worse. He didn't think anyone could deal with his brothers piercing cries right now.
Razor had never been good in busy places. He tried to avoid areas with many people for that reason. Being forced into the busiest area they’d been in in their lives was no improvement whatsoever. He had become incredibly fussy, needing constant attention and care from Cyno just to keep him quiet. His throat had gone hoarse from all the sweet nothings he’d had to tell as he wiped away little tears before they could spill. It was tiring. He was exhausted. But knowing that any moment could be his last kept him firmly awake until that time came.
And so it did.
They spoke in that same unknown language, standing before him like they were unbothered by what was about to be done. He took a deep breath. This was his time then.
He placed a kiss on Razor’s forehead. “Be good, alright? Big bro is going to protect you.” He reached his brother out to Sanirah, who took Razor with a stiff nod. Her lip was trembling. She was having just as much trouble holding back her tears as the child in her hands.
Cyno pushed his body up from the ground, knowing that resistance was futile.
“Cy’o…?” His spirit almost shattered at a single word, his limbs locking up. He did not want to leave. He wasn’t like their parents. He would never leave. That’s what he had promised. He forced a smile onto his face. “Be good” he repeated, voice trembling, unable to think of anything else to say. He did not wish to make any false promises.
His arm was grabbed and he was dragged up to his feet, pulled away from Razor, but his eyes never left. “C-Cy’o! Cyno!” The small arm reaching out to him made his knees buckle. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to yet. He wasn’t ready. Razor wasn’t ready to let him go! He wanted to live!
Those small, weak arms did everything they could to escape Sanirah. He heard her shriek as Razor’s teeth pierced the skin of her arm, getting her husband to help hold the child still. Perhaps he should have warned her. Razor was his angel, but when they were separated he became much like a demon. Razor wasn’t ready to let him go.
It was with trembling legs that Cyno stood before the altar. To meet his end, sacrificed to some unknown God, was not what he had imagined when he sat together with Razor yesterday. He could not say he was surprised. They were desert dwellers, two children wandering through the desert on their own. Safety had never been in the cards for them. If anything he just felt regretful of not being able to reach anything greater than what his parents had doomed him to.
But things weren’t so simple.
Because this was not just about him.
Cyno was the first sacrifice. After he met his swift end upon their blade, the couple would follow. Razor would follow. His little brother would be killed before he ever reached the age of three. It was an unacceptable reality.
Despite all his will to escape and put an end to this, he had no choice. His arms were being held on both sides by men much larger and much stronger than him.
What little light peered into the room reflected off of the sacrificial dagger, shining in his eyes. He choked on his own breath, air failing to fill his lungs. His captors did not care for his state, tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. His vision blurred, causing him to miss the moment the blade sliced through his skin. But he certainly felt it. One clean cut across. Not enough to kill him, but enough to rob him from his breath, as blood poured out of the wound.
“Cyno- ! Cyno! Cyno!! Waaaaaah!!”
Razor’s screaming cry was piercing, drowning out all other noise. He no doubt smelled it. Cyno’s blood. He’d always had a good sense of smell. He always knew when something was up. Cyno wished he didn’t. If only his little brother could stay blissfully unaware.
It hurt. The pain was unbearable. This was how he was going to die? No, dammit, why would his legs not move?? He wanted to run, but his entire body refused.
“Purge all of them. Purge this cult in my name.”
He did not understand where the voice he heard was coming from, but he would do nothing rather.
“Use my powers to distribute my justice at your will.”
He didn’t care. He wanted to make them pay.
“Save yourself by killing them all.”
He’d sacrifice anything. Use my body as a vessel. Save my brother. Anything to save him from death.
Cyno’s body was dropped as he fell to his knees, his hands blindly grasping at his neck. He was already doomed to his death. Instead of his bleeding flesh he found something else. He felt himself grab onto it, its smooth surface much different from that which he had expected to find. He looked down at what he was holding, his body numb. He was dying. But king Deshret had not yet come to take his soul.
Shining a bright purple right before him, there it was, Cyno’s ticket to slaying them all. A glowing electro vision. His electro vision. He reached out and gripped it tightly, brought it to his chest. He took a deep breath, like the end wasn’t in sight, his lungs unpierced, and activated it at once.
In the blink of an eye the world became purple, and then everything went black all at once.
Cyno had very little memory of what followed. There was blood. So much blood. The stench haunted him to this day. He thought it was likely that he killed every single eremite in that temple. Those that tried to flee he pursued until they were slain as well. Hot white anger was coursing through his veins. He wanted them all dead, murdered, blood, and by the time that temper stilled he was left alone in the middle of the desert.
His breath was ragged, his form still surrounded in purple glowing armour. He didn’t feel fully in control as his body started walking on its own, like he knew exactly where to head. Unable to stop it, he let it do as it wished until it had returned right to where things started. The floors and walls of the temple were splattered in blood, no one left alive. No one hiding.
Where?
He felt himself drag his body up the stairs again and leave, searching outside. He sniffed the air, like Razor always seemed so fond of doing. His senses were flooded with scents he’d never sensed before, too far removed, now razorsharp. It was vague, but he smelled something. His nose led him forward, his body picking up its pace.
When the scent died out he found a set of tracks leaving the scene. He followed them, and followed, and followed until the wind came setting up, and the tracks he followed were erased. As the storm picked up around him Cyno stared at the trail he had once been following, no longer there. He fell to his knees, all adrenaline within him dying out as he realised that his younger brother, Razor, had already been lost. He was too late. And as the desert’s sand pelted him in the face he didn’t care anymore. Tears streamed down his cheeks and hit the sand below, and he just didn’t care. He had lost Razor. He couldn’t care anymore. And as dark wolf-like shadows appeared on the edge of his vision, everything went black.
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“Cyno listen to me”. He wouldn’t. He would never. Liar. Traitor. “Razor is alive. I know he is. You know he is. We will find him. The way you think of him, the memories you hold together, I want to meet him. I want to meet our brother. Please allow me to help. If you starve yourself we will never find him again.”
Nothing would make him find Razor again. There was nothing he could do.
“You know that Sanirah took Razor.” He realised as much, Cyno had been malding about it the entire time. “She used to be a student in the Akademiya. Cyno. The general Mahamatra, he has access to that kind of information. If we become him then we will find Razor, and we will judge anyone that would dare to come in his way.”
His part of their promise was to bring judgement upon those who deserved it. But the God hadn’t been able to keep up his part of the agreement, so he was less than enthused. Why should he believe him? “I don’t wish to fight.” He was tired of it as well. “I want to save Razor. Allow me to save him with you.” He wanted his brother again. He felt a deep longing reflected in every part of his soul, reaching even the parts that so often disagreed, and he knew that it was the truth. The spirit that inhabited him wanted to help, and he was so tired.
General Mahamatra, was it? Something like a guard?
“The Akademiya’s loyal watchdog. He brings justice to those who deserve it. He has the authority to search anyone he wants to as long as there is some suspicion of foul play. We will find Sanirah, and make sure that Razor is returned to us.”
Razor.. His little brother. He prayed that he was safe. He had to be. He cared for him so, so much.
Big brother was coming. Please, hold on. Be good, Razor.
He’d be there soon.