love me till even death fails to part us.

summary:

demons, just like angels, are immortal. So Cyrus has no idea why Athena keeps dying.

1.

The first time they meet is unremarkable.

Cyrus was assigned to protect a city in Jeolla, so he destroys an approaching pirate ship when it
comes too close to the shorelines. When he comes across a surviving straggler on the beaches
of the city, he recognizes the straggler as a demon, and the demon recognizes Cyrus as an
angel. Cyrus taunts the demon for her defeat, and lets her scramble back to the hell she came
from to report her losses.

2.

The second time they meet is also unremarkable, and a bit infuriating.

A couple of years later, Cyrus is on the advising council of a reputable general, tasked with
helping to issue a peace treaty. When the general collapses on the ground at a celebratory
feast, poison spilling from his chalice, Cyrus spots the demon slipping out of sight. He charges
through the crowd of alarmed onlookers to track down the guilty party, but he never catches up
to her.

3.

The third time is different.

An angel's job is to guide humanity toward goodness, and so Cyrus is usually tasked with
helping noble people and protecting noble institutions. This time Cyrus is assigned, long term, to
the capital city of Ephesus, to protect the king. He's undercover among the mortals as the new
general of the king’s guard. He integrates just fine into his undercover life as a general, until the
demon returns.

to the onlooking mortal, the general and the new lieutenant have an interesting dynamic. It's
some sort of friendly rivalry, between an uptight general and a disrespectful lieutenant,
constantly at odds. In reality, however, they’re two immortal beings, forever enemies, eternally at
war.
If an angel’s job can be boiled down to bringing good to the world, demons are tasked with
bringing evil. Athena has been no different from the rest, vying to wreak havoc on the mortal
world and send as many humans to hell as possible when Cyrus’s job is to see that they end up
in heaven. Cyrus assumes, then, that if he’s on earth to protect the sitting king, then Athena is
here to kill him. Whatever Athena’s dastardly plan, Cyrus will be damned (figuratively and
perhaps literally) if he allows Athena to succeed.

which has brought them to tonight, with Cyrus trespassing in Athena’s quarters and the edge of
Athena’s sword held to his throat.

“Thank you for stopping by. get the hell out of my quarters.” Athena’s voice, quiet and
threatening, comes from deep in the shadows of the room.

“There's no need for these theatrics. i come in peace,” Cyrus says, ignoring the blade digging
into his neck. Although it’s painful, injury from human weapons can’t kill immortals like the two of
them.

“What do you want?” Athena asks, sheathing her sword. Cyrus wants to be offended by the
demon’s hostility, although he supposes he did enter Athena’s room with no invitation in the
dead of night. but still.

“city-wide siege. thought you’d wanna be awake for the fun,” Cyrus says, adjusting his own
sword on his belt. He needs it to look like a proper general in the royal guard, but he doesn’t
need it to protect himself. it’s bulky and gets on his nerves often. “I'm kind of surprised you’re
not the one leading the attack.”

“So, you’re here to keep an eye on me,” Athena translates, lighting a lantern with a snap of her
fingers. Cyrus resists the urge to roll his eyes. demons, just like angels, can perform simple
telekinetic magic in their heads. Athena snaps just for the flair.

“Don't flatter yourself. I don’t have time to babysit you,” Cyrus says haughtily. He turns to leave
as Athena buckles into his armor. “but be at my side in the great hall in five minutes. lieutenant.”

Cyrus slips out of the room before Athena can get in a rude last word. out in the halls, the chaos
of the impending siege is evident as men rush up and down the palace halls. Humans are so
loud, Cyrus marvels as he listens to clanging armor and the shouts of men trying to run to their
posts without colliding with each other.

but he’s not here simply to observe the humans. He has a king to protect, and he just knows
Athena is up to something. as he listens in on the impromptu meeting in the great hall, he
watches soldiers file in to report to the king’s council and rush off to their posts for at least ten
minutes before Athena hurries in, looking a bit more awake as she takes her place next to
Cyrus.
“What took you so long?” Cyrus mutters. Athena cracks her neck as another general takes the
floor, debriefing the room about invaders that have broken through the southern borders of the
city.

“I couldn't find clean clothes,” Athena grumbles, and Cyrus stops himself from elbowing Athena
in the ribs because he needs to seem serious. Besides the two of them, no one in the room is
sure that they’ll live through the night. Athena, on the other hand, absently tucks her shirt into
her pants when she notices it sticking out. Cyrus is bored, but at least he’s quietly waiting his
turn to speak, not causing a disturbance by bursting in late or stifling yawns the way Athena is.

Cyrus elbows Athena, who grumpily rights herself to stand at attention.

When he’s prompted, Cyrus speaks up, feigning solemn concern as he relays a plan to secure
the palace perimeter. the troops at his disposal nod their understanding and set out.

“You, with me,” Cyrus snaps at Athena as they file out of the hall. They speak in low voices
despite the bustling chaos around them. “We help secure the palace perimeter, and then we’re
right back here protecting the king.”

“Since when do I report to you, sir?” Athena asks. She's recently started using the word
exclusively to piss Cyrus off, and it works every time.

“Since always,” Cyrus hisses. “Whatever you’re up to, you’re going to fail.”

“whatever i’m up to?” Athena repeats. “I just got out of bed. I'm not behind this.”

they’re speed walking through the halls toward the palace courtyard when Cyrus stops them
both in their tracks. Athena really does look surprised; she isn’t playing dumb. not with eyes that
big.

“This really isn’t you?” asks Cyrus, disgruntled.

“no, I kind of thought it was you,” Athena says.

“Why would an angel cause an invasion?” Cyrus snaps as a soldier shoves past his shoulder in
a rush. He and Athena start walking again, making their way to the rear entrance of the palace.

“don’t ask me to explain anything you guys do,” Athena laughs.

angels are vessels of good. where does Athena get off, making light of their righteous duties?

Cyrus bristles, but controls himself.

“You don’t know anything,” he says and shoves the palace doors open.
The courtyard is open air and vulnerable to attack, and the air smells rather ominously of smoke
even though there’s no fire to be seen. There's only a troupe of nervous soldiers milling about,
listening helplessly to the shouts outside the palace grounds and unable to leave their posts.
Cyrus snaps a few orders and lets Athena leave his side to lead a couple of men into places
where they’re more needed. There's not much to do before Athena and Cyrus are finished
securing the perimeter of the courtyard.

“you done, or what?” Athena asks impatiently as Cyrus walks towards her, before turning on his
heel to retreat into the palace and return to their posts at the king’s side. Cyrus huffs and waits
until he’s close enough to Athena that he doesn’t have to speak loudly to be heard.

“I'm supposed to be your general. Can you show me a little respect?”

“no, thank you,” Athena answers casually, and it takes all of Cyrus’s willpower and then some
not to take a swing at her.

they’re still running down the halls when they round a corner and come face to face with six
men, armed with the same single-edged longswords that military officials like Cyrus and Athena
have. they’re decidedly not allies, though, as one of them slashes wildly at Athena, who barely
unsheathes her sword in time to block the blow. They probably picked up the weapons from
fallen soldiers, Cyrus realizes as he swings at one of them and watches as he staggers back, off
balance from the heavy sword. next to Cyrus, Athena swings her sword down and lodges the
blade into an intruder’s shoulder.

Cyrus has to admit that they’re an efficient team, maybe simply because mortals can’t kill either
of them or because neither of them fears death. a wound seals up on Cyrus’s side the moment
one of the raiders opens it, and in the corner of his eye Cyrus can see that Athena has a large
tear in her sleeve but no wound underneath to match the slash. So yes, they heal
instantaneously, but they’ve still racked up an admirable kill count together in the past few
weeks as they’ve fought side by side on the king’s guard. they’re a decent match.

Athena hits the ground so Cyrus can disarm a soldier attacking them from behind. when the
man’s sword clatters away, Athena slashes at his leg and the soldier collapses. Cyrus sticks his
hand out and Athena grabs his forearm to hoist herself up, neither immortal looking at the other.

They continue down the halls towards the royal court, and they’re almost at their destination
when there’s a loud crash to their right. Athena nearly tramples over Cyrus’s feet as she jumps
away from the source of the noise. Cyrus consciously grabs for the hilt of his sword, and Athena
doesn’t bother reaching for her mortal weapon.

smashed glass scatters across the floor, bursting out from a broken window. All at once, a large
stone hits the ground, the torch hanging on the wall gets dislodged, and flames catch on the
drapes of the ceiling-length window. Cyrus retreats a few steps back from the suffocating burst
of heat to see dark silhouettes peering into the open window, and prepares to fight again.

at his side, Athena extinguishes the flames with a wave of her arm.

“what are you doing?” Cyrus hisses, shoving Athena. in the dark, he can barely make out the
annoyed frown on Athena’s face.

“putting out a fire before it spreads? you’re welcome,” Athena says, and Cyrus doesn’t have to
explain what a terrible idea that was, because the hushed whispers from the mortals outside
quickly turn into alarmed shouts.

“the fire went out!”

“How? are there guards nearby?”

“no one could have instantly put out a fire like that!”

“you absolute—” Cyrus begins, shoving Athena away from the window before anyone is able to
see and identify them. The last thing they need is for mortals to spot them using magic.

“what? get off!” Athena grunts as Cyrus drags her around the corner and silences her with a
hand over her mouth.

“shut up unless you want the mortals to find out you’re not one of them!” Cyrus whispers.
Athena licks his palm furiously and Cyrus considers smashing her head against the wall behind
her.

around the corner, glass tinkles and there’s the slam of footsteps as one of the raiders
presumably climbs through the window. The sound of voices is hushed again, as the raiders
help each other into the palace.

Athena wrestles Cyrus’s hand off her face.

“Stop them! we have to kill them!” she whispers.

Cyrus has no idea why Athena would want to stop violent intruders from wreaking havoc, but he
still can’t condone needless death.

“Just wait,” he urges.

“We need to regroup. the rendezvous point is near the rear entrance, right?” one of the raiders
says, and Cyrus smiles at Athena with a smug sense of vindication.
“These guys don’t know what they’re doing, they don’t even know where to go. let’s hide until
they leave, and then we can just focus on protecting the king,” Cyrus says, peeking around the
corner to spy on the intruding men. they look lost in the palace halls.

The hallway the two of them ducked into is unlit, and the raiders creep away in the other
direction to find their allies. Cyrus isn’t supposed to intervene in mortal affairs that don’t directly
involve his mission of keeping the king alive, so he doesn’t bother worrying about them.

When Cyrus pulls his head back, he finds Athena just looking at him, confused.

“what? Why are you staring at me?”

“Did you say we’re gonna go protect the king?”

“Yes,” Cyrus says, exasperated. “or at least, that’s what I'm going to do. whatever devious plan
you have for the evil mission you were given, save it for another day.”

Athena’s frown deepens. “My mission is to protect the king.”

Cyrus raises his eyebrows. “My mission is to protect the king.”

“I figured. that’s why I’m staring,” Athena says impatiently. Cyrus stares blankly, tries to gauge
the likelihood of this being part of Athena’s plan, or just a lie to mess with Cyrus’s head.

“What do you mean? Why would an angel and a demon have the same mission? that doesn’t
make sense,” Cyrus asks.

“don’t ask me!” Athena says, flustered. “All I know is, i was told to keep an eye on the king and
his advisors. from what I can tell, his tax system is corrupt. his people are giving all they can,
and all he cares about is funding his military and his own expensive lifestyle.”

the sitting king is intentionally over-taxing his people?

“wait, what?” Cyrus asks intelligently.

“there’s greed in his heart, and it’s only projected to grow. his people will undoubtedly suffer with
him on the throne,” Athena says with a shrug. Cyrus’s mind is reeling. he was assigned to work
for a greedy corrupt king, and all this time, he never even realized.

“how did i never notice?” Cyrus asks.

Athena shrugs. “what’d they tell you when you were debriefed, before the mission?”
“to focus on the people,” Cyrus says, resigned. “there are citizens getting restless, talking about
rioting, or maybe a coup. I thought I was here to keep the peace.”

“you’re keeping the peace in a broken system,” Athena says, and Cyrus doesn’t think Athena
points it out to be annoying but he feels annoyed all the same.

“I didn’t know. I thought I was here to protect an innocent ruler. and I thought you were here to
kill him.”

Athena shakes her head.

“but, no,” Cyrus continues. “you’re keeping him alive because he’s an asshole and a bad king.
I’m protecting a bad man.”

“you okay, angel?” asks Athena. Cyrus runs a tired hand through his hair.

“humans are kind of shitty,” he finally responds.

“I don’t know how it’s taken you this long to realize,” Athena scoffs.

“hey, I was just following orders,” Cyrus argues, upset to be wrong in front of Athena. “i was told
to protect him, and… I assumed he was worth protecting.”

“I guess someone up there was misinformed,” Athena laughs. Cyrus glares at her.

“There had to have been a reason why I was assigned here. and even if it was a mistake…”
Cyrus trails off, uncertain. if the all-knowing, all-seeing officials in heaven are capable of making
mistakes in judgment, then he really won’t know what to think.

“what are you gonna do?” Athena asks.

“I’m gonna do my job,” Cyrus says quietly.

“even though he’s bad?” Athena says, and it seems reductive, to slap a premature label of
‘good’ or ‘bad’ on any mortal, especially when it’s not really either of their jobs to judge. but
Cyrus knows she’s right, or at least has a point.

“because he’s bad,” Cyrus insists. “humans are always changing. if i give him time, and second
chances and I save his life, maybe he’ll learn.”

Athena raises an eyebrow, and Cyrus wonders for the first time if maybe the demon has an
ounce of kindness in her, because her muted reaction seems to be a polite mask to hide pity,
and doubt.
“or maybe he won’t,” Cyrus concedes. “but he won’t get the chance unless we protect him.”

“People will suffer,” Athena says. Her tone is light, curious, and not concerned for the wellbeing
of the mortals but simply interested in understanding Cyrus’s rationale.

“Then I’ll protect them too when the time comes. if my bosses really made a mistake… then I’ll
deal with the consequences. all I know is I’m supposed to protect them.”

“you can’t protect all of them,” Athena says, and it’s not a threat or a challenge. there’s almost
sympathy in Athena’s voice.

“I have to try, right?” says Cyrus, setting his jaw. when he manages to meet Athena’s eye again,
he’s prepared for indifference, amusement, or something meaner. but he finds himself being
stared at, rather blankly. analyzed. “What, demon?”

“Nothing, angel,” Athena laughs. “I guess, I've never met anyone like you.”

Cyrus doesn’t have time to argue with Athena. he grabs his sword. “Come on.”

He peeks around the corner again, where the raiders have disappeared, and heads down the
corridor back towards the royal court.

It takes a moment before he hears the sound of Athena’s footsteps following him. That was
probably the longest and the first real conversation she’s ever had with an angel. it’s Cyrus’s
first time with a demon.

When Athena catches up, Cyrus glances at her as they continue through the halls. “We might as
well work together.”

he should worry about Athena, worry about trusting her, worry about her telling her bosses down
in hell that his higher-ups in heaven are capable of errors in judgement, or at least careless
mistakes.

but his world just turned upside down, so screw the eternal rivalry. if he can pretend, for a
moment, that they’re just two immortals with the same cause, then he’ll get through the day.

when they finally get back to the court, the king is alive and well and remarkably displeased.

“where have you two been?” he snaps at them. “relieve these children.”

Cyrus and Athena, assuming their roles as general and lieutenant, dismiss the junior guards at
the king’s side and watch them sheepishly hurry to stand guard outside.
there’s not much for the angel and demon to do other than stand at each side of the throne.
there are other soldiers out in the city, controlling the situation, risking their lives to protect the
integrity of a doomed kingdom.

Athena catches Cyrus’s eye and blinks. faint sounds of battle echo into the hall, and Athena’s
eyes are full of life and feeling when everything else is still and stone and grey. it’s anchoring.
irrationally, Cyrus feels some semblance of solidarity, and nods back.

then movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention, and he barely has time to process
what’s happening before he registers a junior guard’s body hitting the ground, three raiders
bursting into the royal court, and one of them nocking an arrow on a wooden bow.

“go,” Athena says, both immortals staring straight ahead. Cyrus’s quicker with his mortal
weapon, since Athena is still naturally inclined to use magic, so he charges forward with his
sword out, dodging flying arrows to cut down the archer and his two comrades.

he steps past the bodies that fall to the floor to check for more incoming intruders before
slipping back around the doorway, his eyes trained on the empty halls.

“sire, there are no more raiders coming,” Cyrus says to the king, making sure the coast is clear.
“stay with the lieutenant, and i’ll go—”

he means to say he would go get reinforcements, but when he turns around he sees the king
standing on shaky legs beside the throne, gripping the armrest tightly. Athena is standing in front
of the throne, clutching her abdomen, staring down at the arrow sticking out of her body.

Cyrus almost rolls his eyes. there’s no need for dramatics, and it’s rather inconvenient for her
that Athena is playing up the injury, even if she is just trying to maintain his cover.

“Athena,” he says, informally, walking near. “you good?”

as he gets closer, Cyrus hears Athena breathing raspily, which he thinks is over the top. She’s a
good actor, but demons don’t even need to breathe.

“i can help you pull that arrow out. it’s kind of the reverse of a fantasy of mine,” he jokes, hoping
Athena will get the idea and play off the would-be fatal injury in front of the king, and simply act
as if she’s fine. She can just say the arrow didn’t penetrate his armor, or it barely hit her in her
side. if they yank the arrow out, Athena’s body will heal instantly. there’s no need to fake a
human death.

Athena only staggers forward, grabbing Cyrus’s shoulders. as she reaches out, Cyrus sees that
her hands are covered in blood. her eyes are wide, and she seems to be in shock.
“what are you doing? why are you bleeding?” Cyrus mutters under Athena’s weight. he hears
the echo of footsteps in the corridor, but all he can do is stare, uncomprehending, as Athena
drops to her knees and crashes to the floor. “Athena?”

“general!” an approaching voice stops Cyrus before he can kick at Athena for the prank she’s
playing. “is the lieutenant injured?”

“she’s—no,” Cyrus says, but two of the guards who’ve rushed into the room hoist Athena’s limp
body up. Her slack face has gone pale. She looks a little gross and sickly, almost human.

Is she faking? could she really be injured? Perhaps if the archer was armed with immortal
weaponry, somehow, he could have harmed a being like Athena.

“We'll take her to the infirmary, sir. the palace perimeter is secure now,” one of the guards says.
a whole troupe ran in, likely in pursuit of the raiders Cyrus killed. “we’ll stand guard at the door,
you can stay at the king’s side.”

Cyrus nods, watches passively as they all leave, two of them dashing away with an unconscious
Athena in tow. he should stop them, probably, in case the court physician tries to tend to her and
notices her rapidly healing wound and overall lack of human organs, but he has no choice but to
stay.

It doesn't matter for now. Athena can handle herself, she’s a perfectly functional adult demon.
even if she really did somehow sustain an injury from the puny human arrow, she would recover.

In the meantime, Cyrus has a job—one that Athena would tell him to focus on. oh, she’d never
let Cyrus hear the end of it if the second Athena was out of commission, Cyrus somehow failed
to protect the king. with a huff, Cyrus returns to the throne, where the king has returned to his
seat with a slightly paler complexion.

“are you alright, sire?” Cyrus asks as he takes his place next to the throne again.

“yes, of course,” the king says with a curt huff. “a shame about the dead lieutenant, though.”

Cyrus winces, wants to reassure the king that Athena will definitely be fine. even if the injury
appeared fatal, he’s sure Athena is simply going to fake the wound and its recovery.

the rest of the night of the siege is uneventful. the palace was secure the moment Cyrus killed
the archers, so it’s not long before the siege is stopped and Cyrus is relieved of his post.

he heads back to his quarters to rest. there will be thorough meetings of updates and debriefing
tomorrow. from what he hears, he and Athena stopped the only attempt at the king’s life.
he also hears that while parts of the city were sacked, the damage to the palace was minimal.
apparently, there were only a few dead bodies and broken windows, and one set of curtains that
were half burnt.

--

the next morning, he expects to see Athena at the debriefing in the royal court. He expects to
see Athena in the halls with other lieutenants. He expects to see Athena on the training
grounds, if not actively engaged in antagonizing her opponents then cheering from the sidelines
as senior guards haze and rough up the juniors.

he never does see Athena, so he pays a visit to the infirmary. The wing is so full of wounded
soldiers and suffering civilians that the court physician barely has a free moment to pull Cyrus
aside, tell him the woman he’s looking for died last night, and send him away.

In the next few days, Cyrus figures it’s a simple mistake. maybe Athena kept up the charade of
her injury until she got a chance to sneak out of the infirmary and the physician lost track of her.
Or maybe the physician sent her away when she couldn’t find the demon’s nonexistent pulse,
and Athena ended up in the mortuary where she woke up, brushed herself off, and walked
away.

he expects Athena to come back, until he doesn’t anymore.

until it’s been countless dull days and boring nights, with no sign of Athena anywhere. it’s nice
not to have his authority undermined constantly, and it’s nice not to receive death glares at
every turn of a corner. But he’s been gone for too long, and Cyrus finally decides she must have
been pulled off the mission. She must have been called back to hell, maybe when other demons
learned that an angel had been assigned the same mission. it makes sense that Athena would
be reassigned elsewhere when she wasn't needed here.

whatever happened, Cyrus is a bit disappointed. Athena really was a decent ally, and tolerable
company, and only infuriating sometimes. he wishes Athena would have stayed.

(he shudders to think it.)

but he can’t deny that it’s lonely being immortal on earth. he’s lonely.

the city of Ephesus eventually reaches a point of stability, and Cyrus is sent back to heaven by
the archangels who supervise him when his job is considered done. he’s assigned a new job,
and reassigned, and reassigned again as the years turn into decades. he’s sent all over the
mortal world, but he doesn’t meet Athena again. and he starts to wonder if all of his theories
were wrong, and the demon really did die.

4.
until it’s his first night on a trade ship in the east sea and he collides with someone on deck.

the stranger grunts at the impact and they both hit the floor hard. Cyrus curses himself for not
noticing her, because now the lantern the stranger was holding has shattered on the ground,
and the wooden planks between them are soaked in oil and lit aflame.

and he recognizes the face behind the flames.

“Athena?” he asks, despite the quickly growing fire in front of them.

“ow, what—how do you know my—fuck!” Athena yells as her pant leg catches fire. She reaches
to furiously pat it out.

Just Cyrus’s luck, that he finally meets Athena again and the demon seems to have somehow
gotten dumber.

Cyrus puts out the flames on the ship with magic immediately, and the fire stops as quickly as it
started. whoever is on duty at the helm is far away, and the only one awake on deck at this hour,
so Cyrus figures it’s safe to use magic.

but he watches, confused, as Athena pats her pant leg rapidly as the flames refuse to die.

“what are you doing? you know how to put that out with magic!” Cyrus hisses, but Athena
ignores him and just hops around on one leg while grasping her ankle. It's almost funny to watch
her struggle to smother the flame, and when the fire is finally put out Athena falls back on the
floor and watches red burns on her hands instantly heal. Finally, she scowls at Cyrus.

“no i don’t, man, who are you?”

that gives Cyrus pause. it’s been many years since they last saw each other, maybe he was
somehow mistaken? immortal beings can recognize other immortals for what they are, and this
is definitely a demon, and by the aggression in her expression the demon can definitely tell
Cyrus is an angel. but maybe it’s just someone who looks similar?

“Athena?” he asks again.

“how do you know my name, angel?” Athena snaps, and Cyrus has no more theories.

“it’s Cyrus,” he says, pointing an impatient finger at himself. “we’ve met, genius, how do you not
remember?”

“what? when?” Athena scoffs.

Cyrus stands with his hands on his hips as Athena picks herself up off the floor.

“i don’t know! maybe fifty years ago, in Ephesus, on the king’s guard. ringing any bells?”

“that wasn’t me, angel,” Athena says. “i’m just out of training. i’ve been in the mortal world a total
of maybe two earth days.”

“they’re just called days.”

“whatever.” Athena folds her arms stubbornly.

“that was definitely you, unless i’m mistaking you for a demon who looks exactly like you and
has the same name.”

“that must be it,” Athena says.

“come on!” Cyrus exclaims. “are you screwing with me? because i swear, you look exactly the
same as you did the last time i saw you, minus the arrow sticking out of you. thanks for
disappearing, by the way. i thought you died, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.”

Athena’s frown forms so subtly and grows so steadily that by the end of Cyrus’s sentence she’s
almost surprised by how deeply her brow is furrowed.

“why do you say that?” Athena asks.

“i don’t know. you were acting all hurt from one little arrow, and then you disappeared really
suddenly, like the huge bummer you are.”

he expects a witty comeback, or maybe a dumb comeback (something along the lines of “no,
you”). but Athena’s still guarded, and a stranger. a demon, no less.

“why were you bummed that i was gone?” Athena asks, eyeing the angel up and down with
suspicion.

“what?” Cyrus asks quickly.

“never mind,” Athena says. “you said you thought i died?”

“yeah. but i was wrong, i guess,” Cyrus says.

“maybe not. i think i know what’s going on,” Athena says.

“is that a new experience for you?” Cyrus impatiently asks when Athena trails off in thought.
“shut up. do you wanna hear my theory or not?” asks Athena.

“obviously, tell me.”

“okay, so, if a demon is killed, we respawn,” Athena says quickly.

“what, really? how do you even kill a demon?”

“i don’t know, it doesn’t happen a lot,” Athena says. “also, even if i knew, i wouldn’t tell you.”

“right, sworn enemies and all that,” Cyrus says dismissively. “so you think you actually died, and
respawned?”

“it would explain how you know me, and why we haven’t met in so many years,” Athena says.
“maybe i really did die, and it just took me awhile to… regrow.”

Cyrus frowns at the mental image of Athena sprouting up from soil like a little potted plant.

“does that hurt?” Cyrus asks.

“uh, you have to assume it does, right?” Athena answers. “it’s like having every molecule in your
body rearranged. and your memories get wiped too, i guess.”

“but that still doesn’t explain why you died,” Cyrus says, and then gasps dramatically as he
remembers. “you bled too! one little arrow to the stomach, and all the sudden you were bleeding
all over the place.”

“ugh,” Athena says with a grimace.

“yeah, it was gross,” Cyrus says with a matching expression.

“human things are so gross,” Athena agrees. “like blood, and emotions, and taxes.”

“i know,” Cyrus says again, nodding.

“i don’t know why i would have bled, but if you’re telling the truth, which…” Athena squints at
Cyrus before continuing. “i think you are, then i think i might have died.”

“and just regenerated, or whatever, with no recollection of any of your time on earth?”

“yeah,” Athena says, and they fall into silence, each stuck in his own thoughts.

it’s the dead of night, but the moon and stars lend enough light that they can see each other,
and the low shine of the calm ocean around them.
“what now? what do i do?” Athena asks, leaning over the rail to peer at the rippling waves in the
sea. She slumps over the side of the ship, arms hanging over, fingertips dragging in the wind.

“i don’t know that there is anything to do,” Cyrus says, trying to be sympathetic. “don’t die
again.”

“thanks,” Athena says.

without looking, Athena pulls Cyrus’s knife out of his scabbard, and Cyrus can only watch in
bemusement when Athena flips the blade in her hand and brings it down to her leg.

She smoothly imbeds the knife into her own thigh.

“your pants!” Cyrus says belatedly, once the knife has torn a slit into the fabric.

“oops,” Athena says thoughtfully, and pulls the knife out again with a pained grimace. no blood.
She examines her leg through the hole in her pants, and the wound is nearly done closing.

“you feeling alright?” Cyrus asks in a temperate voice, and Athena laughs.

“i just wanted to check i’m still immortal.”

“it’s a good thing you are, because i would have laughed so hard if you actually stabbed yourself
for an experiment,” Cyrus says, taking his knife back and making a show of wiping down the
blade, even though it’s still clean.

“you’re a bad actor, angel,” Athena says, and Cyrus recoils.

“i’m an amazing actor, actually.”

“no, you’re trying to hide it, but I can tell you care about me,” Athena teases. She’s closer to her
old, irreverent self now, not as guarded anymore. Cyrus pretends to gag.

“i wouldn’t care about a demon even if you wore a halo,” Cyrus says.

“that’s a good call,” Athena admits. “the halo probably would be stolen.” Cyrus shoves Athena’s
shoulder just because it’s within his reach.

“don’t start a fight you can’t win,” says Athena sagely, and then stomps on Cyrus’s toes.

Cyrus feigns pushing the demon overboard, which he just barely dodges.

“what are you doing here, anyway?” she asks, maybe partially in an effort to distract Cyrus.
Cyrus straightens, composes himself and assumes a proper and blank facial expression.

“i’m here to facilitate foreign relations and economic diplomacy,” he says, gripping the flimsy
fabric of his own jacket like the lapel of expensive formalwear. “and you, m'lady?”

“i’m just here to rip some people off,” Athena laughs. “make some bad trades, you know? yeah, i
think they gave me an easy task for my first time in the mortal world.”

“it’s not your first time here,” Cyrus reminds Athena.

“right,” says Athena uneasily. “well, if we’re gonna be stuck on this boat together for this whole
trade route, truce? you stay out of my way, i’ll stay out of yours?”

“as long as this isn’t a trick,” Cyrus says. Athena gasps in mock offense.

“i would never! i am but a lowly, humble demon.”

“sure. i’ll stay out of your way, rookie.”

“i don’t need your charity, but thanks, old man.”

“charity! it’s as a favor—you demons are all the same! if you know so much, how about i set you
on fire and see you try to put it out?”

“i’ll jump into the ocean and take you with me,” Athena threatens, grabbing Cyrus by the shirt.
Cyrus wordlessly starts a tiny flame on the corner of Athena’s sleeve.

Athena yelps and stumbles back to put out the fire. it’s inexplicable that Athena somehow died
and had her memory wiped, but now at least he has company on this fragile human boat. even
if that company is so fresh out of hell that she struggles with basic magic.

when Athena fails to figure out the magic to put out the flame, she extinguishes it with her bare
hand again, and then thrusts her sleeve in Cyrus’s face.

“do it again. light me on fire. i’m gonna figure it out,” she swears, and Cyrus has to indulge her.
as the light of the flame goes up again, Athena’s illuminated face frowns in concentration, until—

“i did it!”

Cyrus wonders if they’re the first angel and demon in history to high-five.

when they part ways later that night, Athena’s eyes are crinkled in a genuine, if not a bit
mischievous, laugh, and Cyrus thinks that maybe an angel and a demon can coexist. just for a
few days, just as long as they’re trapped on the same boat with unrelated missions and a lot of
free time. He can probably tolerate being in Athena’s proximity. he’ll nod in Athena’s direction,
give her a polite smile when they’re in the company of the clueless mortals. He might even have
one or two more neutral conversations with the demon. anything can happen.

what he doesn’t expect is for Athena to pull him aside the next night and ask for tutoring.

it’s really just a bit of guidance while Athena gets accustomed to using magic in the human
realm. New demons are bound to struggle a bit, and Cyrus agrees purely to watch Athena
suffer. He gives tips when his sides hurt from watching Athena struggle to do basic things like
move small objects with magic, or summon a light gust of wind.

they don’t mean for it to become a regular occurrence until it is, and they’re spending every
night on deck at the stern of the ship, out of sight from the mortals, sitting in the moonlight and
exchanging spells and enchantments.

If any part of Athena doubted Cyrus’s story and the fact that he must have had his memory
wiped, that doubt is gone now. Cyrus can tell by the way Athena looks at his hands, furrows her
brow, and conducts magic, that it’s all familiar to her. that it feels a bit more like relearning than
learning.

“like that!” Cyrus echoes as Athena’s face lights up in excitement. He's showing her how to
summon objects out of thin air, which should be easy once Athena gets the grasp of it.

they’re both leaning over the side of the ship, so Athena tosses her rock overboard with a
kerplunk! She stills, eyes hard with concentration, and summons a flatter stone with a smooth
face. She throws it into the water at an angle, and watches it skip twice across the calm waters
before sinking into the sea.

“you’re pretty good at this,” Cyrus says, riling up the surface of the water in little ripples just
because he can. spending time with Athena has renewed her appreciation for magic, and doing
fun little things absent-mindedly.

“The trick is in your wrist,” Athena says as she skips another stone.

“You know I meant magic,” Cyrus says with exaggerated annoyance. “don’t fish for
compliments.”

“oh, please,” Athena says with mock humility. “I had a good teacher, sir.”

Cyrus had given her permission to use the honorific with him soon after they started practicing
magic together, and by now it feels so natural that it’s hard to remember that in the past, Athena
had only ever used the word mockingly.
“you had the best teacher you could have asked for,” Cyrus sniffs proudly.

“Actually, demons in training aren’t supposed to have any teacher at all for magic. so you really
were the best teacher i could have asked for,” Athena says.

“Wait, you were supposed to figure all this stuff out on your own?” Cyrus asks. He's sure Athena
could have done it, but it seems like a lot to have to work out magic without any kind of
guidance.

“Yeah, it’s actually kind of a big rule, about initiation into the mortal world,” Athena says
sheepishly. She stops skipping rocks and meets Cyrus’s eye. “I'm technically not supposed to
get any help. sorry.”

Cyrus laughs and shrugs, in a way that kind of says ‘no big deal,’ which makes Athena’s
eyebrows shoot up.

“You really don’t care?” she laughs nervously. “Was I wrong to assume you’d be a stickler for the
rules?”

“Yes,” says Cyrus seriously. then: “I mean, I am. but it’s wrong to assume things, morally
speaking.”

it’s easy to make Athena laugh, and it’s easy to forget Athena is a demon while Cyrus is an
angel, and they’re supposed to be enemies. but the night Athena learns how to use magic to
cause a thunderstorm, Cyrus can’t help but applaud her. Even though he has to remind Athena
not to get carried away and let the storm capsize the ship (because even if Athena instinctively
wants to cause chaos, it’s in everyone’s best interest that the ship remains in one piece), Athena
puts together quite the show. A thunderstorm is a complex thing, and when lightning cracks the
sky open and lights up the joy on Athena’s face they crash together for a celebratory hug.

Then, all too suddenly, Athena stops making progress. She's a bit frustrated at first, but
determined to overcome the learner’s curve. Cyrus is right beside her for all her difficulties,
guiding her as best he can, almost as determined as Athena is to see herself continue to
improve her magic.

Despite both their efforts, Athena hits a standstill.

and then her magic begins to regress.

“It's stifling,” Athena mutters, sitting on the edge of her bunk. It's cold tonight, and they met in
Athena’s cabin partially to stay warm and partially because it doesn’t seem like Athena will be
whipping up a thunderstorm tonight. tiny, meager sparks fly from her fingers. “It's like I just got
one of my senses back, and now it’s gone again.”
Cyrus wants to help, but there’s nothing, no kind of curse or enchantment or condition he’s ever
heard of that would limit an immortal being’s magic like this, to the point where a demon’s magic
is so drained that she’s doing a little celebratory dance over successfully lighting a tiny flame in
her palm. the flame wiggles with Athena.

“Maybe you’ve been away from hell for too long, and you just need to recharge or something.
when you get back down there, you can ask other demons and get to the bottom of this,” Cyrus
says sincerely, his hand firm on Athena’s shoulder.

Athena looks at him like she wants to say something, but the fire in her palm dies out and she
whips her head back to stare at her empty hand.

and then the ship shakes, the frail wooden structure groaning around them. above them, the few
men on the late shift begin to scream into the empty midnight sky. Another cannon fires and
instantaneously, the wood that constructs Athena’s cabin bursts apart, and ocean water and
ashes fill Cyrus’s lungs.

--

he comes to with a squint in a brightly lit conference room, two archangels sitting in front of him.
It's the tall one with glasses and the short one with glasses, and even though they often stick up
Cyrus’s ass, he’s grateful to see familiar faces. when he remembers what brought him so
suddenly back to heaven’s headquarters, he frowns again.

“As I'm sure you’ve gathered by now, your mission was cut short,” says the taller archangel,
pushing up his glasses. “You were put on earth to streamline trade and diplomatic relations.
However, pirates blew your trade ship apart, through no fault of your own. you’re not to blame
for the oversight, and our investigation of your case is quite open and shut. as soon as you’re
ready, you can receive another mission and go back to work.”

Cyrus kind of would have appreciated a heads up about the pirates nearby, but he figures this is
as good of an apology he’s going to get from the corporate ladder. He nods his understanding.

“we understand your mission was interrupted, and you were only down there for—what was it?
two weeks?`` The shorter one sifts through the thin file on the table in front of him, likely a
mission report. “But is there anything you need to debrief us on?”

“um, no,” Cyrus says awkwardly, scrambling to stay focused. “The trade ship didn’t make it to all
its destinations, so I had limited interaction with locals. not much happened.”

“understood,” says the shorter archangel, and gestures towards the door. “well, thank you for
coming in, and you will be debriefed on your next assignment as soon as—”

“Sorry,” Cyrus interrupts. “do you know if there were any survivors from the shipwreck?”
“you were looted by pirates,” laughs the taller one. “They sank your ship as soon as they took
what they wanted. all the mortals on board died.”

Cyrus stares at them expectedly. he can’t ask the question that he needs to ask.

“and we pulled you out,” continues the shorter one with a confused smile. “there was nobody
else on board.”

Cyrus blinks, thanks them, bows, and leaves.

it was possible that she made it out, and her supervisors pulled her out safely to hell. but
Athena’s magic was fading. it was also possible her immortality was weakened, she was hit by
the blast, and she died. again.

There's nothing Cyrus can do, as shaken as he feels. He gets his assignment, and goes back to
work.

5.

It's harder this time to get back into the rhythm of things.

Cyrus’s not sure why he found comfort in Athena’s presence on board, but it’s hard not to miss
having a friend when he’s knee deep in the mundanity of undercover assignments and tedious
mortal life. there’s not much else to do other than speculate, and wonder, and imagine, and
worry.

months turn into years turn into decades, and Cyrus knows he’s getting old when he starts
finding everything boring, including life in the military. he’s undercover, blending in as
commander on the front lines of the mongolian army, and loses himself in daydreams often
enough to know he’s suffering from chronic boredom, a tragic side effect of immortality.

Then one day he’s watching some new recruits train and sees a familiar face on the sidelines,
riling up the troops into an argument that’s one wrong move away from turning into a fist fight.

Cyrus marches right up, ignoring the intimidated soldiers who duck out of his way as he
approaches, and pulls Athena away from the rowdy group, behind the weapons tent and far
from any mortals.

“Athena!” Cyrus exclaims brightly. “Thank the devil, right? I've been so bored.”

“who the fuck are you?”

Cyrus’s face falls fast as he registers Athena’s flat expression. After a moment Athena’s
expression morphs into one of disgust, which is at least better than indifference.

“wanna get your hand off me, angel?” Athena says.

“fuck, again? really?” Cyrus snaps, and Athena’s jaw drops at the vulgarity from the angel.

“Can I help you?” asks Athena, shaking her arm away from where Cyrus forgot he had grabbed
it.

“this can’t be happening again, come on!” Cyrus groans.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” Athena asks, and maybe she has a right to be impatient
and alarmed. to her, Cyrus is a total stranger.

He gives her a quick rundown. tells her they fought together once, and then the next time they
met Athena didn’t recognize Cyrus. he tells her about thinking that Athena had died, the fading
magic, the threatened immortality, all of it. Athena listens with growing bewilderment, but Cyrus
has to convince her he’s telling the truth. He's even more confused than Athena is.

“Yeah, you lost me at ‘we fought together,’” Athena laughs. “We were on the same side? sounds
likely.”

“I'm telling the truth, dipshit,” Cyrus says, and Athena looks less surprised but still uncomfortable
at the sound of an angel swearing. “We know each other, I don't understand how you don’t
remember me.”

“Tell me something then,” Athena scoffs. “prove you know me.”

“I don't know,” Cyrus says, flustered and annoyed, which is not a new sensation he blames on
Athena. “It's not like we shared our life stories. also, you’ve had your memory wiped, so i don’t
even really know the person you are now, because philosophically speaking, you’re not—”

“So you're lying,” Athena says. impatient, insolent, stupid kid. stupid demons. Cyrus wants to
smack her, restore her stupid memories so they can go back to being stupid friends.

“no!” he says firmly. “Look, I don't know. you’re good at skipping stones. and you think mortals
are mostly dumb but you like their music a lot. and you like watching thunderstorms even
though the noise makes you jump, because you like watching lightning crack through the sky.”

“Wow,” breathes Athena. “that… was so vague. Do you write horoscope predictions?”

Athena’s condescending tone is infuriating, and all Cyrus wants to do is throttle her until she
remembers. but he can’t, because she won’t. There's no reason for Athena to trust him.
“I'm sorry,” he sighs, defeated.

“I mean, I believe you,” Athena continues, and Cyrus eyes go wide with shock.

“really?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Athena says, a bit uneasily. “that has to be the truth, right? because no self-respecting
angel would be caught dead saying nice things about a demon under any other circumstance.”

Cyrus can’t help the relieved smile that spreads across his face. “you believe me.”

“yeah, but don’t look so happy about it,” Athena says with a grimace. “if what you’re saying is
true, with the memory wipes, and me disappearing, twice now… I really did die, then. multiple
times.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” Cyrus admits grimly.

“Are you doing this to me?” Athena asks, her voice quiet and threatening. “This keeps
happening to me around you, right?”

“Hey, no, I don't know what else has happened to you!” Cyrus says quickly, hands in the air like
a white flag. “I've only met you a couple times.

Athena regards him up and down, skeptical. Cyrus gives a nervous toothy smile, and then the
bells are rung for supper.

Cyrus fills Athena in on the details as they eat with the other soldiers, a good distance away so
no one overhears them. Once Athena is completely caught up, she seems to trust Cyrus a bit
more.

“from the way i see it,” Cyrus says, swallowing down a mouthful of rice porridge, “you just have
to monitor yourself. do magic every now and then, and if it feels normal you have nothing to
worry about.”

“But if I start feeling like my magic is getting weaker, that means my immortality is probably
compromised,” Athena finishes, nodding in understanding. “I can manage that.”

“good,” Cyrus says.

“so, what’s your assignment here?” asks Athena, before shoveling burning hot porridge in her
mouth. She paints with his mouth full of food, and Cyrus gags at the sight, which makes Athena
laugh so suddenly she almost spews porridge everywhere.
Cyrus tosses her a napkin. “There's a general in the unit I have to kill. He's into corruption,
bribery, killing civilians, all that stuff.”

Athena raises her eyebrows.

“what?” asks Cyrus.

“nothing. you just seem really… indifferent about it."

“Yeah, I guess that’s just one of those things about immortality. everything gets old. It loses its
sense of novelty.” Cyrus’s insensitive to killing mortals, saving mortals, fulfilling his missions,
getting new ones. There's not much of a cause to believe in, just a day to day routine. He's a
few centuries old, it’s bound to start feeling boring.

“Are you losing interest in the job?” asks Athena. She’s surprisingly receptive.

“maybe. being undercover all the time… it’s hard to find something to care about, when
everything around you is so fragile. when you know it’s all gonna go away.”

When Cyrus looks up from his empty bowl, Athena is staring at him.

“Maybe I just need a promotion,” he jokes quickly, and if he were a better person, Athena would
laugh politely and change the topic. but she doesn’t.

“That's why you care what happens to me,” Athena points out.

“i don’t—i mean, it’s not—that’s a generous interpretation of—” Cyrus stammers, and there’s
something like a cocky smile on Athena’s face.

“no, any other angel wouldn’t give a demon a second thought, and vice versa. but you’re bored,
so i’m like… your pet project.”

“Okay, no, ‘pet project’ is kind of harsh, I would just say ‘friend,’ you’re a friend,” Cyrus argues.

“I knew it!” Athena points a triumphant finger at Cyrus, who bares his teeth like a dog
threatening to bite. Athena snatches her finger back with a laugh. “you’re so easy to
manipulate.”

“no, i’m not, i’m just nice, jackass!” Cyrus says.

“Is this nice?” asks Athena. “feels pretty mean.”

“I'm actually a pretty spectacular friend,” Cyrus argues. “But you wouldn’t know it was nice if it
slapped you in the face. hey, that gives me an idea—”
“nope!” Athena says, shooting up from her seat to put their bowls away. She sends a death
glare Cyrus’s way, and almost runs into someone because she’s not looking in front of her.

for a while, not much happens. They see each other in the camp often, training or eating at the
same time. it’s good to have someone around, Cyrus remembers. maybe all these boring years,
he’s just been lonely. and Athena’s a demon, she’s programmed to keep Cyrus on his toes.
She's filled with chaotic energy and makes every interaction fun.

which is not to say Cyrus has not learned how to retaliate. The simplest, most energy-efficient
way to harass Athena is to pester her in passing, slapping her shoulder as they run by each
other during drills, making faces at her as she walks by. Athena is a bit louder when she causes
trouble, and maybe a tad bit more violent, but she only ever does it to Cyrus to receive an
exasperated smile. She's the perfect antithesis to Cyrus’s mid-eternity crisis.

but it’s more than that. He's particular in some way. something about Athena lowers Cyrus’s
guard when it should do the opposite. He's not sure what it is.

somehow, he forgets they’re in the midst of a brewing war. Being preoccupied and immortal will
do that. He's hit hard with a reminder when he’s walking the grounds, passing by soldiers
collecting firewood and transporting weaponry, and someone shouts.

“take cover!”

He sees the arrows before he hears the thunderous sound of horses approaching, and he whirls
around to retreat to the main camp, where soldiers are now gathering quickly.

an arrow clips his shoulder and he winces. He feels the wound in his skin seal up, and the pain
is gone almost instantaneously. he forgets it when he sees his men lined up to form a defensive
wall, and he takes the lead.

Cyrus wasn’t ready for an attack and he’s not wearing any armor, but he doesn’t need to worry
about his own life. Most of his men managed to get armor on, or were already suited up and in
the middle of training. He sees Athena in the ranks, unsheathing her sword but dressed in just a
cloth tunic and pants just like Cyrus. alarm flares in his brain before he has to remind himself to
focus on the impending threat.

It's only a couple dozen men, riding in on horseback from a nearby enemy territory. without the
element of surprise, they’re not a severe threat, and Cyrus’s almost certain he can lead his men
to an easy victory.

“with me!” he roars, sword held high like a torch in the night. his troops charge with him,
pounding footsteps all around as they run out to meet the enemy.
He spots a soldier with a spear on horseback at the forefront, and decides to go for him first.
When he’s close enough, he slashes hard at the spear with his sword, the force of the impact
shooting up from the curved metal of his blade to his hand into his elbow. but the wood of the
spear snaps, and as the tip breaks off Cyrus grabs the soldier by the straps of his armor and
uses his running start and a touch of magic to jump right onto the back of the horse. with a
push, he sends the man flying and doesn’t look back.

he’s gotten bolder with magic use as time has gone by. war used to be about blending in and
fulfilling his missions. Now, he sees it as an opportunity to have a little fun.

He charges through the masses, steering his horse to knock over enemies and trample them
into the ground. When that gets old, he frees the horse from its reins and tackles one soldier to
the ground, feeling bones in both their bodies crack when they smash into the dirt.

when he looks up from where he’s got the soldier pinned down, there’s a hand waving in front of
his face.

“you’re not one for blending in, are you?” asks Athena with a laugh, and Cyrus grabs her
forearm to pull himself up, groaning as his body heals and resets. He quickly situates himself so
they’re back to back.

“use a little magic. it’s more fun,” Cyrus yells in the chaos. Athena grunts, metal clanging against
metal.

“I'm inclined to agree!” Athena says, and the soldier she’s fighting tips off-balance, his foot
caught mysteriously in the mud. Athena cuts him down.

there’s an arrow whizzing towards them that Cyrus magically deflects with ease, and then he
spots an enemy soldier, charging at them from the side, in Athena’s blind spot, while Athena is
busy fighting someone else off. he’s coming fast, leaning forward on his horse, curved scimitar
glinting in the sun and hanging at his side to take Athena down.

In four hundred years of working in the human world, living among mortals, Cyrus has never
once felt fear on a battlefield.

He does now.

he backs into Athena to shove her out of the way. The soldier rides in and takes a swing, but
Cyrus slices out and he’s not sure what he hits. He either cuts through the leather strap of the
saddle or he cuts through the flesh of his leg completely, because he sees the soldier topple to
the ground as the horse gallops off.

“What the—holy shit,” Athena says, regaining her balance after Cyrus pushed her. She turns
around and stares at the sword sticking out of Cyrus’s shoulder.
“i can’t… fuck. i can’t pull it out from this angle,” groans Cyrus. The blade is lodged deep in his
shoulder, deep enough to cause serious internal damage if Cyrus had the internal design of a
human. but he’s perfectly immortal. he just needs to get the fucking sword out of his body. he’s
not used to feeling such prolonged pain.

“Cyrus, come on,” Athena yells, and pulls Cyrus away, deflecting incoming blows mindlessly.
When they’re a few meters away from the fight, bodies littered on the ground but no one nearby
is trying to fight, Athena sits Cyrus down in the grass.

“you’re gonna hate me,” he says curtly.

“huh?” is all Cyrus manages to say before Athena yanks the scimitar out of his shoulder, and he
screams out in pain.

“oh, relax,” Athena says as Cyrus’s chest heaves, and his vision blurs with the pain. three
seconds pass. “and you’re fine.”

Cyrus takes a peek at his shoulder and through the tear in his shirt, he’s completely healed. the
pain has passed.

“That sucked,” he says with a relieved laugh that he can’t quite control. Athena looks
unimpressed.

“Why did you do that? I may be a few centuries younger than you, but I'm pretty good on the
battlefield. immortality does that to you,” Athena says pointedly.

“don’t take it as an insult,” Cyrus huffs. “I wasn't even thinking. I was just worried about you.”

Cyrus stands and Athena slowly hands him his sword, which she must have picked up
somewhere when Cyrus dropped it. Athena’s arm lifts like she’s moving through molasses.

“You were protecting me?” Athena asks.

“yeah, i guess i’ve seen you die a couple times so i reacted without even thinking. but you’ve
said there aren’t any signs of your immortality fading, so it was kinda for nothing, right?”

Cyrus stretches out his healed shoulder with a self-deprecating laugh.

“um, yeah,” Athena says belatedly, as if shaking herself from a daze. “yeah, this morning i got hit
hard in practice, but my bone reset and i was fine in a second.”

“I remember that now,” Cyrus says, a breezy smile on his face. He twirls his sword in his grip.
“ready?”
“don’t be overeager,” grumbles Athena as they head back to the fight. “you were crying on the
ground not twenty seconds ago.”

“a testament to my resilience!” boasts Cyrus, shooting Athena a playful grin before stabbing an
enemy soldier straight through the abdomen.

Athena dodges the sword of someone riding by on horseback. The soldier yanks on the reins
and dismounts quickly to face Athena, but with his first swing the sword flies out of his hands
and Athena slices cleanly through his armor. when the enemy soldier crumples, Athena returns
to Cyrus’s side.

The enemy numbers are dwindling, now. Nearly all of them are dismounted and fighting on foot,
and Cyrus’s troops are in the clear majority, gradually surrounding the invaders.

“tighten the circle!” commands Cyrus, and his men follow suit. He and Athena close in on the
remaining enemy soldiers, more and more of whom are dying where they stand.

but it’s war, and mortals are all inclined to fight to survive. to make any and all possible last ditch
efforts to win.

“break their lines!” an enemy soldier shouts, and with echoing roars, they charge outwards.
outnumbered, most of them are killed quickly. Cyrus disarms one that comes for him, and
Athena kicks the weapon away while Cyrus cuts a gash into the man’s leg and he falls.

someone’s sword tears through Athena’s shirt and slices against his skin. It's so brief and
shallow that she thinks it might have been an accident, because there’s no one else actively
paying attention to her. but another enemy soldier sees her distracted, staring down, watching
blood trickle from her side, and cuts a deeper gash across her chest down to her stomach.

the enemy soldier pushes Athena away and rushes off only to be stabbed through by Cyrus.

“Athena?” asks Cyrus when he catches a glimpse of Athena’s back, unmoving among the chaos
of the dwindling fight. Athena doesn’t respond, only doubles over, falling clumsily to the ground.

“Athena!” he yells, white hot fear flashing through him. He steps over bodies to get to Athena,
kneels and pushes at her shoulder until Athena is rolled over and looking up at the sky. blood
spills from the gash in her torso, and she clutches uselessly at her stained and torn shirt.

“no one told me—ah, fuck—that dying hurt so bad,” Athena groans. He blinks wildly, looking
around in blind panic as if there’s a cure that will save her life as long as he finds it in time.

“It's fine, you’re not—” stammers Cyrus, hands hovering uselessly over Athena’s open wound.
“this is barely anything, you’re fine.”
Cyrus has no healing experience, magical or medical, because he’s never needed it, so he can’t
heal humans, let alone demons. demons that, for all intents and purposes, should never need
healing.

he meets Athena’s eyes, wide with fear, and feels a mirrored pain as if they have matching
wounds in their chests.

“you were fine this morning,” Cyrus says desperately.

“Is now really the time to get mad at me?” hisses Athena, legs tensing and fingers curling as she
writhes with the pain.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” says Cyrus. it’s not fair of Athena to get angry at him either, he wants to
say. This is uncharted territory for the both of them, and Cyrus doesn’t know what to do. He puts
his hands in Athena’s so she has something to hold, to hopefully relieve her pain, but he’s never
felt so desperately useless. Athena squeezes with all the strength she has left, rapid breaths
starting to even out.

Cyrus had said before that he’d seen Athena die a couple times. He realizes now he was wrong.
The first time, he’d watched Athena get injured, but he didn’t know she was dying. The second
time, everything happened so fast. Now, it’s happening slowly, right in his arms, playing out in
front of him in excruciating detail.

“Cyrus,” Athena says, her breaths staggered, his eyes squeezed shut. “I have a brother, Yemir.
when you find me again, just tell me his name, and tell me everything. I'll believe you.”

“Okay, okay, I will,” says Cyrus hurriedly, squeezing Athena’s hands with reciprocal strength.

“Find me,” Athena says, eyelashes fluttering. her forehead smooths, distressed lines
disappearing. the agony fades, leaving only fear.

“I will,” Cyrus swears, and Athena is gone.

--

It's not the first time he’s watched someone die. He's often stationed in dangerous times and
places, and he’s seen the deaths of diplomats, crown princesses, renowned playwrights,
countless soldiers, and much more.

but he’s never had anyone die in his arms.

The fight died down around him as he knelt on the ground and held Athena’s still form,
uncomprehending in the face of death and mortality like a child. He was whisked away to have
his injuries examined, even though he always comes out of battle untouched. even though he’s
seen countless bodies crumple to the ground, trodden over and forgotten, faceless and
nameless in the aftermath of war. death has never felt so purposeless.

He wonders, selfishly, if Athena had it easy, because the burden that weighs in his own heart
having lost her feels far worse than whatever Athena could have suffered in the fleeting
moments before her death. at least the demon will return. maybe it’ll take a hundred years, and
maybe she’ll have to relearn her old tricks. but she’ll be the same, good old Athena, and Cyrus
will be forever changed by the blood that has soaked into his tunic.

“commander,” someone says, and he allows himself to be led back to the empty barracks. That
night when they honor the fallen, he burns his bloodied shirt.

6.

“how do you know my brother, angel?”

“If you would shut up for ten seconds, I'll explain,” Cyrus says, smiling wide in spite of the
hostility on Athena’s face.

Once Cyrus explains their history and everything it entails, Athena seems to believe him. seems
to trust him, a bit. not as much as he used to, but enough for now. They have time to become
friends again, as they have so many times before, and Cyrus is a patient man.

He's patient enough to just watch Athena in her element every now and then, and learn to get
over his own anxiety whenever Athena is bruised or cut up. her injuries heal instantly, and Cyrus
relaxes in Athena’s company.

this time around, the years in between weren’t as daunting. not when Cyrus had something to
look forward to in the monotony, not when he woke up every morning hopeful. The years passed
by quickly. Even if they didn’t, the time they spent apart is easy to forget when Cyrus sees
Athena again.

It's also easy to forget how hard Athena’s last death had been for Cyrus when the demon is
being the drunkest and most annoying person in the room, singing in Cyrus’s ear to try to get
him to join in.

“I'm not gonna sing,” Cyrus says, and Athena has to lean in to hear him over the roar of the
busy tavern, other patrons carrying on with their tune.

“don’t be shy! you can’t be that bad!” Athena insists.

“I'm not bad, I'm amazing,” Cyrus agrees. “I'm trying to help you save face by not singing.”
Athena just laughs, and in Cyrus’s inebriated mind even her giggles sound like arpeggios.

“Nope, let’s just drink,” Cyrus says, and quickly pours Athena another glass.

“no, why?” Athena complains loudly, but downs the shot with Cyrus anyways.

he’s not sure how many heavenly rules he’s breaking by interrupting a mission to go out
drinking, but it has to be several. he’s wasting a night fraternizing, spending most of his time at a
demon’s side, and drinking for no reason other than recreation. he’s further gone than he is
ready to admit, the conversations buzzing around them turning to a dull pulsing roar. he’s also
supposed to be doing something, probably, but he doesn’t remember what.

he’s here undercover as a rebel, or an art curator, or something, and Athena is here as a
mercenary, he thinks. or maybe a blacksmith. or a rice farmer. He's fuzzy on the details. when
his regard for the rules went out the window, so did his sobriety.

“If I'm going to break seventeen rules tonight then I'm gonna drink you under the table for it,”
Cyrus answers simply.

“Come on, Cyrus, don’t be lame. I was just starting to like you,” Athena whines.

“You've been begging me all week to come drink with you!” Cyrus counters, to which Athena
shakes her head vigorously.

“I don't remember doing that, therefore it did not happen,” she jokes, and when Cyrus gasps in
mock offense Athena backtracks quickly. “Wait, I didn't mean it like that!”

“Save it,” Cyrus sniffs, pretending to be hurt by the implications of Athena’s words. He turns to
face the bar, as if to nurse both his glass and his broken heart. “I've never been worth
remembering, to you.”

“no!” Athena yells, the word extended embarrassingly long. Athena’s voice is higher pitched like
this, softer, tinged with hysterical giggles. it goes up when her guard comes down.

Athena takes Cyrus’s hands in her own, pulls him back so they’re eye to eye.

“look. I don't really know you, yet, maybe. but I wish I did. I wish I remembered.”

“I think,” Cyrus says, head pounding with alcohol. “that we’ve both had enough to drink.”

“Wait, you still have to forgive me!” Athena protests, tightening her fingers around Cyrus’s wrists.

“you didn’t ask for my forgiveness,” Cyrus pointed out. “You never even said you were sorry.”
“I shouldn't have to say it,” says Athena, petulant and illogical and nose wrinkled even as she
loosens her grip on Cyrus.

“We should call it a night,” Cyrus says. He finds that his hand has reached up, not of his own
volition, to poke Athena’s scrunched up nose, and when Athena breaks into a grin he finds
himself unable to stop. “should probably try to sober up before the big… thing. tomorrow.”

“Wait a second,” Athena slurs, nose twitching every time Cyrus rhythmically boops her nose but
allows it to happen anyways. “What is the big thing tomorrow?”

Cyrus can’t help it. giggles erupt out of him and seem to infect Athena, and the world tips as
they double over and grab at each other for balance. They laugh for so long that Cyrus almost
forgets to answer Athena’s question.

“I have no idea,” he gasps, and Athena laughs so hard he hits his forehead on the countertop.

He wakes up the next morning with a bruise.

They take every precaution imaginable, but Athena is shot and killed within the week. Cyrus
thinks he’s mentally prepared, but it never gets easier.

7.

in a dark, morbid way, Cyrus is getting used to the idea of Athena dying.

When they meet again, he doesn’t assume familiarity with Athena because he knows she
doesn’t remember how close they used to be. He lets their friendship form organically, because
by some miracle Athena always seems to grow accustomed and partial to the presence of an
angel.

Because Cyrus tries to keep an appropriate distance, he lets Athena decide their boundaries.
He lets Athena drag him places, letting her lean up to whisper things to him even though her
breath tickles against his ear.

he complains, but it’s nice to know Athena feels comfortable with him. so he squirms when
Athena tickles him, tries to hit back when Athena hits first. but he doesn’t tell her to stop.

Maybe Cyrus has become permissive, he thinks regretfully as Athena pushes him hard into an
alleyway.

“Patrol's coming,” Athena says, not even looking as she pins Cyrus against the cold wall of the
building they’re hiding behind. “two of ‘em.”
“ow.” Cyrus shoves Athena off him so he can peek around the corner at the two guards. “they’re
armed, but not stopping.” he turns back to look at Athena, and gives her the sharpest, most
accusatory look he can manage when both their faces are cast in shadows. “you could have
done a little more recon.”

“I did enough!” Athena is stealing art from the biggest, most secure and heavily guarded exhibit
in the city with works from all over the world, and didn’t think to do a little more research. great.

“take this seriously, would you?” Cyrus says. he thinks about the patrol guards’ muskets. He
hasn't come to Italy in a while, but if he remembers from his debriefing correctly this particular
region is just beginning to use handheld guns in common practice. “I've never been shot before
and I don't intend to start today.”

He was supposed to keep a low profile. “don’t stir up trouble,” his bosses had said, “you’re just
going to observe underground criminal activity in the area.” but then he had run into Athena, and
Cyrus got a chance to observe criminal activity up close.

but beyond a certain point, observing criminal activity becomes aiding and abetting. which is
why he’s sneaking into an art gallery with Athena in the dead of night.

"I am taking this seriously," Athena argues back. "I did my homework. there's just a lot of patrols
at this time of night."

"oh, is that why we're in a dirty alleyway?"

"I'm sorry, did you have a better plan?"

"no, because that was your job."

"hey!" a guard yells, and Cyrus's eyes go wide. "you two!"

"great!" Cyrus says, a big smile on his face so that Athena can tell how mad he is. "Now we
have to kill this guy."

"You can't be here!" yells the guard, and Athena grabs Cyrus tightly so he can't flee.

"don't be so triggered. i have a plan," says Athena, plastering on a matching faux smile as the
guard approaches.

"I'm one hundred percent certain I'm going to hate whatever comes out of your mouth next."

"Sorry, sir!" Athena calls, and her hand slips from Cyrus's forearm down to his hand, where she
interlocks their fingers together. "we're just looking for a tavern."
She leads Cyrus by the hand out the alleyway, and Cyrus quickly adopts her bullshit "I know
what's going on right now" face, which he's perfected over the centuries.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the establishment we're looking for is, would you?" Athena
says to the guard, clinging close to Cyrus’s side, her tone heavy with insinuation. insinuation of
what, Cyrus has no idea.

"oh," says the guard, averting eye contact and looking down the road. evidently he knows
exactly what Athena is talking about. "you're on the wrong street."

"oh!" Athena exclaims, and only when she turns around cheerily does Cyrus remember that
they're holding hands, his arm swinging wherever Athena's goes. "I got us lost. sorry, dear."

and then, because the guard is still standing there, expecting to watch them leave, Athena
presses a kiss, light as a feather, to the corner of Cyrus's mouth.

"don't be mad," Athena laughs airily, and Cyrus has to remind himself to laugh too. He lets go of
Athena's hand and wraps his arm around the demon's waist.

"I could never," Cyrus says carefully, frozen in place staring hard into Athena's eyes, about three
seconds from panicking if the guard doesn’t leave them alone. what will he have to do to make
the guard go away, and maintain their cover?

"well! you folks go on your way now," the guard says abruptly, and marches away, musket at his
side.

They stay like that, linked together, Athena clutching at Cyrus's shirt as she watches the guard
disappear behind them. When it's safe, Cyrus lets go.

"what—?" he asks, struggling to come up with the words to finish his sentence before deciding
what he's already said is good enough to get his point across.

"a flawlessly executed plan, is what that was," Athena laughs, straightening her shirt. which was
wrinkled from the way Cyrus had grabbed her. held her. around her waist.

"huh?" Cyrus manages, and when Athena looks back at him she laughs and flicks his ear lightly.

"Your ears are red, sir. Anyways, I told you I did my homework. There's a tavern here that's
frequented by couples, just around the corner. When I found out the patrols come by every five
minutes to the gallery's extraction site, I figured I should have a plan in case someone notices
us."

Cyrus blinks. "so your plan was to tell guards that we're just looking for a tavern, and then act
like a clingy, gooey couple until they leave us alone?"
Athena laughs at Cyrus’s word choice. “Yes, that was my gooiest work. what’d you think of my
plan? smart and simple, right?”

“Whatever,” Cyrus scoffs uneasily, walking towards the building to find Athena’s extraction point.
“Let's just go.”

“what?” Athena protests at Cyrus’s lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d love it.”

“Why would I love it? what does that mean?" Cyrus asks quickly, watching as Athena takes a
step back with two defensive hands up in the air.

"nothing! i just thought you'd like how pacifist it was," he explains. "We didn't have to kill the
guard."

Cyrus had almost forgotten about the guard.

"oh," he says, pulling himself together. then, with exaggerated fear in his eyes, "i did like it. I
liked it so much I got worried. Who are you and what have you done with Athena?"

Athena drops her hands to her sides with a toothy grin.

"the Athena i know would have jumped at the opportunity to kill a mortal for funsies," Cyrus
continues wisely.

"Relax, dude," Athena laughs. "I'm still your Athena. same old me."

Cyrus is still running through Athena's words in his head by the time they reach the entrance to
the gallery.

"also, i figured it was the least i could do," Athena says casually, breaking the silence as she's
picking the lock, which she always swears is something she does by hand instead of with magic
because it makes the crime scene look more realistic, and not because it's more fun.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know," Athena says, even though Cyrus doesn't. "I know you say you're keeping an
eye on me so I don't cause trouble for you angels, and that's why you tag along when i... have
my nightly excursions."

"you mean when you break the law, steal private property, and make a profit at the detriment of
the region's cultural development?"
"Yes, exactly," Athena says to Cyrus’s rapid fire accusations, and Cyrus nods with no judgment.
"anyways. I know you actually came to protect me."

Cyrus doesn't have a clever comeback to that. Athena finally looks up at him from the keyhole,
turns her wrist, and clicks the door open.

"I haven't known you that long, but you make me feel like we've been friends since before I can
remember. which is true, I guess. you care about me like i mean a great deal to you, and then
you try to hide it, like you don't even want anything in return. no one's ever done that for me.
thank you, Cyrus."

The corner of Cyrus’s lips are still buzzing when Athena walks into the darkened gallery. He has
to remind himself to move his feet and follow her inside.

he’s not sure when “i need to be with you so i can protect you” turned into “i want to be with you”
turned into “i want you to kiss me again and mean it,” but as Athena snatches a painting off the
wall, mischievous delight in her eyes when she sees Cyrus following suit, he can’t help but smile
back.

he doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know how to do it, or what to say, or where to start.
he staggers under the weight of his new discovery alone, unable to put it into words, but Athena
seems to have a better grasp of Cyrus’s feelings than Cyrus himself has. So when they make it
out of the gallery, moonlight illuminating their crimes, Athena looks at Cyrus gratefully, and
Cyrus feels the heavy burden on his shoulders lift infinitesimally.

Their gallery visit is overall uneventful after the run-in with the guard, and as expected, it's not a
particularly dangerous mission.

The real danger comes four nights later, after Athena swears to Cyrus it's okay to leave her
alone for an evening so that Cyrus can do his own job for a change. Athena is sitting alone in
her room in the inn when several armed men break in and slit her throat for stealing artwork
patronized by their boss, a wealthy and furious politician.

Cyrus finds her body the next morning.

A long time ago, he hoped that if he had to continue to watch Athena die, over and over again, it
would get easier.

he stops hoping.

8.

9.
10.

11.

the past couple of times they’ve met have been uneventful. They find each other, Cyrus tells her
everything, they’re friends for a short while and then Athena dies. it’s objectively awful every
time, but Cyrus is always glad to find her. everything terrible, the dread, the fear, even the guilt
are forgotten when he gets the chance to see Athena again.

This time, Cyrus decides not to tell Athena that they know each other. He sticks around, much to
the demon's annoyance, but their missions are closely related, so all Athena can do is tolerate
it. Cyrus pretends he hates it too, even though he can't help but be glad to see her again. It's
selfish, really. every time they meet, Athena seems to be doomed to die.

Maybe it’ll be different this time if Cyrus just keeps his secrets and his distance. He sets out
hopeful in his morbid experiment.

against his intentions, they become friendly just because they’re forced by the job to spend time
together. it doesn't compromise the experiment, Cyrus decides, because they’re still not
particularly close, and Athena still doesn't know the truth about their history, and her deaths.

one day, drenched by the rain, Athena changes into a tank top and Cyrus gapes at the array of
cuts and bruises on her arms, dark lines and deep purple splattered across her skin.

“what the fuck,” he breathes before he can stop himself.

"what?" Athena asks, bringing her hands up to subtly shield himself.

"why aren't you healing?"

"oh, yeah. It's been like this for a hot minute. i don't know, it'll be fine," Athena says casually, and
Cyrus stands before he can stop himself.

"Will it be fine? This is serious, Athena. demons aren't supposed to sustain injuries like these.
you have to take care of yourself. why didn't you tell me?"

Athena looks at him blankly, and Cyrus is almost certain she's going to say something stupid or
rude, because frankly they're not really very close right now. They tolerate each other, but
there's a distance, like they're holding each other at arm's length. Cyrus hasn't earned the right
to talk to Athena like that, or to care about her like that.
but Athena doesn't lash out, or ask for clarification. She grabs a dry shirt, pulls it on so her cuts
and bruises are hidden again.

"You know, don't you?" She asks.

Cyrus doesn't.

Athena is killed soon after that.

12.

Cyrus doesn’t try the experiment of staying an arm’s length away again. He gets as close to
Athena as possible, because he knows it’s not going to last.

and it doesn’t.

13.

14.

15.

“Seriously, I cannot believe you honest-to-goodness robbed a bank today,” Cyrus says.

“Say it louder, i don’t think everyone heard you,” Athena hisses, even though the bar is nearly
empty this late in the night. regardless she frames her face with two hands at the sides, slightly
squishing her cheeks as she shields herself from onlookers.

Cyrus frames his own face in the same way and gets close so it looks like they’re connecting
two ends of a tunnel. Then, with a straight face, he repeats himself.

“sorry. i can’t believe you honest-to-goodness robbed a bank today,” Cyrus says, his nose two
inches from Athena’s, and Athena doesn’t last to the end of Cyrus’s sentence before bursting
into giggles.

“You should have come, it was fun,” Athena says. “woulda been funner if you were there.”

“not sure that would have looked good on my angel record up in heaven,” Cyrus points out,
even though he’s pretty sure the comprehensive record of his actions on earth isn’t just called
an angel record. “also, you’re fine these days, right? no problems with your immortality?”

he drops his voice to a dramatic whisper with the last word.

“Well, let’s check,” says Athena with a shrug, and Cyrus punches her arm. “hey! what the fuck!”

“you said let’s check! are you healing?” asks Cyrus.

“I meant, like, let’s check if my magic still works,” Athena says, a wounded look on her face. “I
don't think my heart will ever heal from you punching me. oh, the betrayal.”

Cyrus taps Athena’s arm with his fist and makes some nonsense noises as he draws his arm
back, like the action is happening in reverse.

“Okay, I undid it,” Cyrus says.

“I hate you,” Athena says.

Cyrus doesn’t realize until later that night that Athena had avoided his original question.

Athena bleeds to death a couple days later in Cyrus’s arms. Cyrus cries quietly, but the whole
building shakes with his shoulders.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

Athena’s magic has been fading slowly, and now her assignment is sending her into a mortal
war, to fulfill a mission that will inevitably kill her. Human war isn’t the same it used to be. Cyrus
thinks about explosives and artillery and trenches and he sulks, not bothering to hide his
displeasure from Athena.

“It's not like I say no to the big bosses, down in hell,” Athena says. they’re lounging in her room,
spending one last night hanging out together before Athena gets shipped off to the frontlines of
a war she won’t survive. “What am I supposed to say? ‘hey, i know we’re all immortal biblical
monsters, but i can’t do this assignment with all those scary little humans and their scary puny
weapons or i’ll die.’”

“No one said you had to phrase it like that,” Cyrus says. They've grown close, close enough that
Athena looks up from the gun she’s cleaning to wrinkle her nose at Cyrus’s socked feet propped
up on Athena’s bed. close enough that Cyrus has told Athena a lot about their past together,
and about his repeated and failed attempts at protecting Athena. The fact that Athena is willing
to leave tomorrow to an almost certain death is baffling and yet also completely understandable.
Cyrus knows what it’s like to feel out of options. but he’s still not happy about Athena’s course of
action.

“After all this time, why do you care what happens to me?” Athena asks, setting aside her
equipment. She looks at Cyrus with genuine curiosity shining in her eyes and the corners of her
lips turning down, and Cyrus's heart aches to think that this is the last time for the next few
decades that he’ll be able to see Athena.

“To me, you’re gone for decades at a time,” he explains slowly, because words don’t come to
him so easily when he has to be like this. vulnerable, and honest. “So when I see you again… I
don't know. it’s just different. when you’re there, it’s better.”

Cyrus wants to think he looks forward to seeing Athena again because he misses the reciprocal
feeling of knowing and being known. that it’s simply because he’s lonely, and likes having a
friend around.

“I don't think anyone’s ever cared about me like that before,” Athena says thoughtfully, and
Cyrus knows it’s not so simple. it’s not just that he likes having a friend. He likes having Athena.
he likes it too much.

He watches Athena pick at the skin around her nail beds. A nervous habit.

as she scratches, blood blossoms from a cut on her finger, and they look up at each other at the
same time, wide-eyed and terrified.

Cyrus rushes forward, kneels in front of Athena to examine her bleeding finger.

“summon something with magic,” he urges quickly, but nothing appears except for a deep frown
on Athena’s face. “anything, come on.”

“I think you know I can't,” Athena snaps, voice more fearful than angry, hands shaking. “what do
we do now?”

“There's not much we can do,” Cyrus answers gently, as if saying it softly will make the truth hurt
any less. “how—when did your immortality fade completely? it had to have happened recently.”

Athena nods quickly, the task of focusing grounding in the face of panic. “yeah, i scraped my
knee yesterday and it healed right away, so i was fine then.”

“And you heated up tea this morning with magic, so you were fine then, too,” Cyrus adds, and
Athena’s hair flops with the force of her nods.
“So what changed?” Athena asks. “You spent all day with me, you know nothing different
happened.”

“Is it something to do with me?” Cyrus asks, guilt shooting through him as the thought latches to
him like a parasite. Maybe spending time together, one-on-one demon and angel time,
compromises Athena’s immortality. every time they find each other, Athena’s death is inevitable.
“Am I doing this to you, somehow?”

“I don't know,” Athena groans, and allows Cyrus to unfurl his fists.

“It's okay,” Cyrus says. “I'll figure it out. you don’t have to be scared.”

“scared,” Athena scoffs, and Cyrus can tell by the way Athena’s eyes dart around that the fear
and panic are starting to bubble up. holding Athena to steady her seems to do nothing, because
they’re both shaking. “I hate this. demons aren’t meant to feel like this,” Athena mutters, voice
wobbly with nerves although she seems to now be focusing intently on her hands, either trying
to get them to stop trembling or trying to perform magic.

“yeah,” Cyrus says.

demons generally aren’t meant to feel most of the many things Athena expresses to Cyrus.
every time they meet, it’s a chaotic mess, a collision of colors that shouldn’t look right together
but do.

“I don't think anyone’s ever cared about me like that before.”

“no one's ever done that for me. thank you, Cyrus.”

“I wish I remembered.”

“You were protecting me?”

“I've never met anyone like you.”

He thinks about Athena initiating touches that weren’t just shoulder bumps or handshakes, but
hugs, reassuring pats or an offered hand to help Cyrus up off the ground. He thinks about
Athena’s eyes, full of frustration and fear, seconds before her impending death.

“Athena,” Cyrus says, heart hammering in his chest.

“eh?” Athena replies, standing and wiping the blood off her hand to try another spell, and paying
Cyrus no mind. Cyrus thinks of the one thing over all these centuries that’s been consistent, the
one thing about Athena that hasn’t changed through the years and the jobs and the deaths.
“Athena,” Cyrus says again, standing and fighting not to let his voice break.

“hmm?” Athena hums, staring hard at an unlit candle sitting on the desk in front of her. Cyrus
thinks he’s right, knows he’s probably right. he hopes so anyways. It's selfish to hope, and yet
hope is the only thing he can manage right now.

“Athena,” Cyrus says again, and his voice does break. He comes close, lifts Athena’s chin, and
kisses her.

Athena’s hands immediately still, and there’s a tiny puff of air against Cyrus’s lips as he gasps at
the feeling of his touch, at how quickly Cyrus pulls away. it’s barely a peck.

when he remembers how to move again, Athena presses forward and kisses him again.

He has to squeeze Athena’s arm and nudge her before Athena pulls back, only to hide her face
and press the crown of her head against Cyrus’s chest.

“w-what’s—what?” Athena stammers, and Cyrus cups her cheek, lifts his face, and tries to
remember how to speak, how to breathe when their eyes meet.

“You said, demons aren’t supposed to feel like this. and i realized you’re right,” Cyrus says
quietly, forcing himself through his explanation in spite of the way Athena’s grip tightening feels
like a fist squeezing around his heart. “attachment, fondness, crushes or whatever, demons
aren’t supposed to feel any of that. so when you do, you become mortal. you’re vulnerable to
death, your magic weakens. you lose your immortality when you fall in love. that’s my working
theory, anyway.”

a dozen emotions fly across Athena’s face.

“but you’re still immortal, which means…” Athena trails off, and her hands lift gently from where
she had placed them possessively on Cyrus’s chest, fists letting go of the fabric of his shirt,
underneath his jacket.

“no! no,” Cyrus says. He marvels at how little dignity he seems to have left, but he guides
Athena’s hands back to his chest, needing to be held again before he goes on. “Whatever the
rule is, it only applies to demons. or I would have died a long time ago. maybe it’s some form of
cruel punishment, or something.”

“are you s-saying…” Athena murmurs. “Do you feel the same way?”

“I've loved you for the better part of the last millennium, Athena.” quiet relief floods Athena’s
eyes, and she runs his hands up and down Cyrus’s arms, relieved, reverent.

Cyrus’s throat closes.

“but i didn’t know it was killing you.”

“I don't care,” Athena breathes instantly, and Cyrus wants. He's selfish, and greedy, and wrong,
but he wants so badly to kiss her again, so he does.

“If I did this, if I chose us, you would die,” Cyrus says when they break apart, breathing bitter
words against Athena’s skin. but Athena only shakes her head.

“I loved you already, before you kissed me. I'll love you even if you never kiss me again.”

“You won’t if I let you go,” Cyrus says, but he only grips Athena tighter.

“Please,” Athena whispers. “eternity together, that doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

by the vulnerability in Athena’s voice, the curve of her smile, Cyrus can tell Athena knows it’s a
fantasy.

“It's not eternity,” Cyrus corrects with a smile. “I have to keep losing you. I don't think I could
survive that. you die, and forget, an infinite number of times. not when I know now that it’s my
fault.”

“It's okay,” Athena urges. “Let me love you to my death, and I'll come back to you.”

Cyrus smiles fondly, pushes Athena’s hair out of her eyes.

“like a sexy poltergeist,” Athena continues, and Cyrus steps on her toes. Athena tips back with
laughter even though Cyrus’s other arm keeps her close.

“You know we can’t,” Cyrus whispers.

“I know.” Athena’s response shatters their fantasy, and all their romantic impossibilities break
apart.

“what are you gonna do?” Cyrus asks, even though he has a good enough idea.

“die, i guess,” Athena says with a morbid laugh, in spite of the tears welling up in her eyes. “I'll
respawn, come back in a hundred years or so, and be fully immortal again. and next time you
see me, you just have to pretend you don’t know me. and we can part ways, and break the
cycle.”

“Okay,” Cyrus murmurs, looking at Athena up and down to memorize what he can while he can.
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Then why are you crying?” Athena asks, a petulant wobble in her voice.

“I said I can do it,” Cyrus protests, turning away to try to hide, so Athena can’t see the tears that
burn in his eyes. “I'll miss you.”

“me too,” Athena whispers automatically.

“no, you won’t,” Cyrus explains gently. “you won’t remember. you won’t miss me.”

Athena’s arms, looped around Cyrus, holding him impossibly closer, and she leans forward to
gently butt their foreheads together.

“the part of me that’s unhappy with mortal life will. the part of me that causes trouble everywhere
I go because I'm trying to forget how empty I feel, in here.” Athena taps her chest, and Cyrus
covers her hand with his own. “That part of me will remember how you used to make me feel.
that part of me will miss you, even when the rest of me forgets.”

“but every part of you causes trouble,” Cyrus teases as tears spill out of his eyes.

“So every part of me will miss you,” Athena concedes, and kisses Cyrus’s tears away even
though she’s crying too.

They stay up for the rest of the night, Athena begging Cyrus to tell her more about their past
together while he can, to refill spaces where her memory has been wiped and will be wiped
again. Cyrus indulges her, tells her old bittersweet stories. it’s unfair that Athena can’t remember
the lives she lived, the world as it used to be, their friendship across the years. It's undoubtedly
more unfair to Athena, but Cyrus can’t help but feel cheated that he has to lose Athena again,
and this time, for real.

forever.

He holds Athena tighter, and they talk until the sun rises.

(“I've loved you since… I don't even know how to finish that sentence.”

“I know… I wish we had more time.”

“i know.”)

orange light streams in through the little window in the room, and when Athena has to go Cyrus
knows it’s a permanent goodbye.

21.
Ephesus has changed a lot since the last time Cyrus was here. for one thing, it’s called
Philadelphia now.

life moves fast and excruciatingly slowly. Cyrus tries to do more, to keep busy. He tries to
associate with the mortals he encounters, to read more and keep up with the way society
advances so quickly these days. but a little part of him is immature. he just wants to mope, to do
his job and then just go home and be alone. because his job as angel was always to try to see
the best in people, and the one who saw the very best in him is gone now.

He's a thousand years old, dammit, and he refuses to be petty or immature. He'll do his job, and
he’ll ride the bullet trains and view the city skylines and reminisce a little about a time where you
could look up into the Ephesus sky and watch stars twinkling as far as the eye could see. The
world is moving on. it’s time for him to move on, too.

That's what he tells himself. but as beautiful as the Philadelphia skyline is, it mutes the night sky
to a plain black. and there’s no amount of technological advancement or mortal ingenuity that
will take his mind off what he used to have, and what he lost.

He's coming up on a hundred years since he saw Athena for the last time when he steps out of
his apartment to head to the embassy, where he’s been working undercover for a few weeks. he
keeps his eyes trained on the ground throughout his commute by habit, because a little part of
him, like always, is constantly thinking about seeing Athena, fantasizing about running into her,
seeing her again for the first time in so long. he knows it’ll be awful, that he has to keep silent
about their past, maybe ignore Athena completely if they ever run into one another. as long as
she stays in the dark, and they never get close, Athena will be safe.

Cyrus still can’t stop himself from fantasizing, though. from when he wakes up, to when he gets
to work, to when he leaves the building for his lunch break.

it’s not constant and crippling anymore, but he thinks of Athena several times a day. thinks
about what kind of life Athena would lead in this time and era, considers what kind of clothes
Athena would wear to blend in with contemporary mortal fashion. he wonders what those bright
city lights would look like reflected in Athena’s eyes. he mourns the fact that he’ll never know.

“‘scuse me,” someone says as Cyrus brushes past her arm on his way to pick up lunch. It felt
more like Cyrus’s fault even though the stranger apologized first, so he turned briefly to
apologize.

he lifts his head and sees Athena, staring back at him.

She's wearing a black face mask, but it’s her. dressed like a mortal of the era, eyes shining in
the hot summer sun. Cyrus can’t help it when his jaw drops, just a centimeter, and his lips part in
a little ‘o’.
Cyrus feels rooted to the ground. On one hand, he’s vaguely aware of the fact that the demon
might lash out for having been bumped into by an angel. On the other hand, this seems to be
the same old Athena he knows, who apologized when someone else bumped into her.

He has to say something soon. He's been frozen and staring at him too long, somewhere
between two and a half seconds or maybe four months, he’s not totally sure. his mind fuzzes at
the edges, static everywhere that’s not Athena.

he has to say something, to say something hostile or just pretend he doesn’t know Athena,
because that was their agreement, because Athena will die if he does what he’s itching to do
and just hugs him.

he’s rooted to the spot, staring blankly, sweating hard in the sun, mind reeling hard and fast.
realistically, it’s only been a moment, but it erases one hundred years of progress and moving
on. Cyrus had thought it would be like reopening a healing injury. but it opens a completely new,
fresh wound.

and then Athena comes barrelling towards him, hits him so hard the breath is knocked out of his
lungs and he’s lifted off his feet, and he belatedly realizes he’s being hugged.

he wobbles in Athena’s hold in an unbalanced panic, feeling arms wrapped tightly around his
waist, Athena’s face buried in his shoulder.

“Cyrus,” Athena exhales, and only then is Cyrus able to react and reciprocate the embrace.

when they break apart Cyrus is about two seconds away from breaking down and crying in the
middle of the sidewalk, but Athena’s brown eyes have disappeared into little crescents, and
when she pulls his mask off she’s smiling so wide it’s almost radiant, and all Cyrus can do then
is smile back.

“how…” Cyrus murmurs, searching for an answer in Athena’s eyes. “you remember me.” he
brushes Athena’s bangs to the side. Her hair is longer now, in style with the times, and even
though Cyrus has a million questions and a strong inclination to hit Athena for sneaking up on
him and turning his world upside down, he just wants to look at her, and memorize her. the way
she looks now, and the way she looks at Cyrus.

“I got a promotion,” Athena says, still smiling brightly, and it takes a moment for Cyrus’s brain to
catch up to Athena’s words. “they promoted me a level up, so i basically do what my old bosses
do. I assign cases to demons who work in the field. so I scour the human world for appropriate
assignments. I can go anywhere in hell or on earth, whenever I want. I could even live on earth,
if I wanted to.”

As she speaks, Athena gently guides Cyrus off the sidewalk into the park. She leads him into a
pagoda, where they can be alone in the shade under wooden beams and red designs almost as
old as they are. a group of tourists and other passersby are chattering and milling about so
Athena snaps her fingers with a little flip of her eyes, and they freeze in place.

“why would you want to?” Cyrus finds himself asking, only vaguely registering Athena’s casual
exercising of magic, and Athena smiles. Everyone around them is quiet, completely still, and
paying them no mind.

“because you’ve been at this even longer than I have,” he says. “ask for a promotion. do what i
do.”

“what?” asks Cyrus.

Athena laughs a little, a nervous exhale. “ask for a promotion. you could be like your bosses, go
wherever you want, report back to heaven whenever you need. and… we can be together.”

“what?” asks Cyrus again, not because he doesn’t understand what Athena’s saying, but
because he physically needs to stall for time while his brain reboots.

“If you want it,” Athena says shakily, every word carefully pronounced, “it’s yours.”

‘it’ meaning Athena. a life with her. eternity, together.

Cyrus grabs Athena by the shirt and hugs her. so hard they almost fall down.

“you’re a genius,” Cyrus says, voice muffled by Athena’s shoulder. He pulls away to kiss
Athena’s relieved and smiling face, pepper kisses all over her cheeks, pushing her hair back to
dot them along her forehead, dropping one on her nose. “you. are. a. genius,” he says
emphatically with every kiss.

--

Later, they’re in Cyrus’s apartment, drafting up the paperwork for his promotion request. Cyrus
is sitting at his kitchen table with a pen in his mouth, and Athena is sprawled across two chairs
with her head in Cyrus’s lap.

“I hated waiting to see you,” Athena murmurs in reverence, even though Cyrus’s pretty sure
Athena is staring straight up at a very unflattering angle of him. “It sucked so bad.”

Cyrus drops his left hand into his lap and Athena grabs hold of it, kissing his knuckles.

“That's what the last few centuries have been like for me,” Cyrus complains. “waiting forever to
see you. and then when I found you again you wouldn’t even recognize me.”
Athena doesn’t laugh at the teasing, even though Cyrus is mostly kidding. Instead, her face
crumples a little, guilt furrowing her brow.

“I'm done forgetting,” she whispers. “I promise.”

“That's not what I meant,” Cyrus amends quickly, desperate to see her smile again. She frowns
down at Athena’s pout, and cups her cheek gently. “It was never your fault. all that matters is
you’re here now, with me. and i love you.”

“I love you too,” Athena says immediately. and then she grins. “But, actually, I got access to my
file when I was promoted. got a chance to redownload all my old cases on earth, so i got all my
memories back.”

“really?” Cyrus asks. “you remember everything?”

“I remember everything,” Athena confirms, her voice dreamy as she thinks back. “I remember
every time I met you, every time I died. I remember every time I got a chance to get to know
you, I fell in love with you.”

Cyrus’s thumb brushes over Athena’s cheekbone, and she closes her eyes at his touch.

“I remember when we were on the king’s guard together and you had that little mustache,”
Athena continues, and Cyrus’s smile drops to a look of exasperation.

“that era was appropriate.”

“Sometimes you would stroke your beard in contemplation, I bet you don’t even remember that,”
Athena goes on, peeking out of one eye to watch Cyrus’s nose wrinkle in playful anger. “You
looked so goofy, but I never told you ‘cause I was a little scared of you.”

“You were scared of me?” Cyrus asks, almost forgetting to be offended.

“Yeah, at first. you and your prickly facial hair. your beard was practically sharp enough to be a
weapon. I had reason to be scared,” Athena teases, so Cyrus magically replicates the beard on
his face.

Athena almost rolls off his lap with laughter.

“you better be scared now,” Cyrus threatens, and pulls Athena up so he can attack her with
kisses while Athena squirms away with a shout.

Cyrus chases Athena onto the couch and pins her down, ready to attack, when Athena wiggles
one hand free and gives Cyrus’s cheek a light slap, and his beard is magicked off.
“oh, much better,” Athena laughs, relaxing underneath Cyrus.

“yeah?” asks Cyrus, dipping his head, leaning closer.

“yeah. you can kiss me now,” Athena says.

“I don't need your permission,” remarks Cyrus, and Athena holds in her laughter.

“Then come on!”

“okay!”

“do it!”

“I will!”

he does.