Finalities: A Headcanon Short

Susurrus
Pre-Humanoid Era
xxxx, X.X.

Ammon kept a neutral face as he twiddled with the silver pendant on his chest. He ignored the stares of Demetria and Narissa, the later throwing him impatient glances and the former merely waiting patiently in her seat. It was just the three of them there – in the middle of nowhere – and they were waiting, waiting, waiting.

Ethon, Ammon thought dully, is always –

“Late,” Narissa hissed. Ammon threw a glance at his sister, who gave her raven hair a huffy toss. “Again. I don’t understand that idiot. What’s taking so much time over where he is?”

“Issa,” Demetria chided, placing a hand on the older one’s shoulder, “You know Ca – Ethon. He’s always like this. For the past years.”

“Past thousand. Million. Gods. I don’t know what to do with that boy,” Narissa sighed, leaning back against her chair. Ammon merely watched her, mouth curving up to a slightly amused smile. “Ammon. What are you smiling about?”

The silver-eyed male cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, dear sister. Nothing at all. Ethon’s lateness is just something that amuses me, rather than irritate. After all,” he met Narissa’s sapphire-blue eyes and gave her a half-hearted smirk, “We have all the time in the world, do we not?”

Narissa was about to give a witty reply when they heard something in the sky. Ammon’s eyes snapped upwards and he gave a flick of his hand, and the ceiling opened up immediately.

Demetria squinted, but couldn’t ignore the flash of red and orange swiveling towards them. Narissa gaped and she couldn’t help but gasp as the red came closer and closer –

And Ammon mindlessly threw a small, marble-shaped object towards the figure.

The person immediately stopped and crashed onto the pristine white flooring, hacking his lungs out.

*****

“You never let me have any fun,” Ethon grumbled, eyes watery and itchy. His ginger hair was wild, a bit of soot remaining there. Ammon merely looked nonchalant as the marble came back and disappeared within his hand, the two sisters staring at Ethon in distaste. “What did I miss this time?”

“You missed nothing, dear brother,” Narissa said dryly. Ethon regarded her with his scarlet-hued eyes, and shrugged, taking a seat between Demetria and Ammon. The brunette lady welcomed him with a smile, and Ethon couldn’t help but smile back as he sunk into the comfortable chair.

Ammon cleared his throat and decided to break the ice.

“I have decided to call all of you for a small announcement on my part.” Narissa watched him steadily, “The Armor has been set free.”

Ethon blinked.

“The Armor?”

“The Armor,” Demetria clarified, “That you refused to let go of?”

“You can say it that way,” Ammon muttered, and Narissa gave a sly sort of smile.

“Excellent, brother. I knew that you would let go eventually,” she sang, and Ammon gave her a withering look before the blue-eyed beauty fell to a silent stop. “I’m surprised, Ammon. I never thought that you would so easily change your minds. I thought you changed like the wind patterns.”

“The wind patterns depend entirely on me,” he snarked, and Ethon laughed boisterously as Demetria shook her head with a sigh.

“Can we please be serious?”

“Yes, yes. With the freeing of the Armor, we…can expect some progress to finally come,” he noted, and Demetria nodded in agreement.

“When shall we begin?”

“When time permits,” Narissa suggested. Ethon wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I hate waiting.”

“You made us wait, you scoundrel–” the fiery-tempered male growled but Ammon stopped them, his voice echoing out throughout the room.

“Apotheosis is almost a lost hope.”

The look on the other three siblings’ faces faltered. Ethon’s lost its joking vibe.

“This,” he began again, looking at the other three, “Is the only choice we have left as the guardians of Apotheosis. As much as we hate to admit it and leave our respective homes.” Ammon sighed quietly. “We agreed on this.”

It was silent for a moment. Demetria shifted uncomfortably.

“…so when do we do it?”

Ethon was the one to respond to his sister’s inquiry.

“We do it in a fortnight.”