{ Chapter Seventeen }
The rain had finally subsided after a week of continuous downpour; sunshine finally reacquainting itself with the saturated ground. The meadow met the very definition of vibrancy, hundreds of species of flowers soaked and straining their backs to reach for the fleeting warmth of the changing seasons.
Their movements were entirely undisturbed by the figure that sat among them, in one of the sunniest and driest pockets within the meadow. In truth it looked like the very ink of the young man’s hair had drained away into the lush vegetation around him, leaving behind a stark shade of white that now touched upon the middle of his back.
Instead of the typical sound of a pencil scratching against paper, there was only the occasional tapping as Caius distractedly thumped the butt of the pencil against his sketchbook. There was no shortage of inspiration supplied by his surroundings, but it didn’t matter how many times he flipped to a fresh page, he couldn’t diffuse the thoughts on his mind for long enough.
He lifted his head up and sought out the swaying beauty of the trees rooted nearby. In the hottest months, he would seek shelter under the canopy, but the sheer unpredictability of the rain that recently flooded the planet meant that somewhere he had once found comfort was now out of reach.
The tapping continued; his back straight and the baggy material of his loose pale blue top with a slit down the middle[*] lightly rustling in face of the breeze.
If his thoughts weren’t consumed by what happened a few days prior, where he had watched his teacher walk away from him without so much as an excuse, then they would find the subject of the art competition and worryingly, Remi. Who would no doubt be ecstatic if he knew he was on Caius’ mind for more than being a disturbance.
Days later, and he still hadn’t asked which painting of his Remi had selected. He wasn’t even sure about the name of the competition, or the rewards he presumed came with it. All Caius knew was that in saying ‘yes’ without too much thought, where he would have inevitably talked himself out of it, it was almost in honour of his teacher; an impulsive decision which was like one in a million for him.
‘White Poppy’ was the pseudonym Remi had chosen for him and Caius was unsure if he liked it or not. When he had asked for the reason behind the strange name, Remi had shrugged his shoulders and gestured to the meadow Caius currently sat in.
“There are so many flowers here, but even to a visitor like me, I can tell which species is the favourite.”
Poppies didn’t play well with other flowers, instead tending to want to dominate an area on its own. That’s why his papa had planted them nearest to the house and separate from the rest, seed by tiny seed. But the blanket of reds that stood so visibly crisp, it was not somewhere Caius found himself naturally drawn to. Not when they were so meticulously cared for while the rest of the meadow was left to thrive on its own.
Once the thought had bloomed inside his mind, he couldn’t remove it. Caius found his attention regularly returning to the red flowers. So in the end he abandoned the myriad of colours and sought out the raised patch closest to the house.
In his hand was his sketchbook, an item that now regularly followed him wherever he went. It eased his mind to know that when he was overcome with the desire to draw, to sketch what consumed his thoughts, he didn’t have far to reach.
He wound his way around the intricate path that carefully divided up the grounds, until he stopped in front of the poppies. Their hue of reds made it so that when Caius reached out to poke one of the petals, his pale skin was tinted with the faintest blush.
Turning his hand over, he went from wishing to touch one of the petals that overlapped with the rest, to running his knuckle up the underside of the flower in order not to damage it. It felt identical in texture to most that cohabited within the meadow — but perhaps because Caius knew how important this breed was, it felt far more fragile.
Some of them showed visible signs of their struggles with the weather, while the ones closely bunched in the middle had maintained their state of perfection.
“I don’t think i’ve ever seen you take an interest in the poppies before.”
His papa had approached quietly, and it caught Caius by surprise. After all, he had chosen to put some distance between them until he could eventually accept the fact that more secrets were being kept from him. That time had yet to come, and staring at his papa who looked ethereal with the backdrop of flowers, made that decision even trickier to maintain. He refocused on the plants with a turn of his head.
In between a sudden whoosh of the wind, was a sigh.
On Caius’ back, he felt the subtlest of body heat as it approached. His every nerve was on edge, aware that it would only take the lightest of touches from his papa to make his weak defiance crumble.
Instead he stopped beside him, and unlike Caius who took care when touching the poppy, his papa reached out and cupped one of the dying ones before bringing out a pair of shears and snipping off the head. It tumbled down to the soil and lay discarded.
Caius looked at his papa in surprise.
“It seems I have been careless as of late, neglecting what is most important.” Those startling blue eyes drifted to meet his own. He then went on to say, “The beauty of living where we do is because we cannot change the weather. Even when it affects our meadow like this. But even as the petals wilt and the colour dulls, there is one thing we can do.”
The pair of shears appeared in front of Caius. He took them.
“The roots and the stem are fighting so desperately to keep the flower in bloom, but in our current climate, it is a battle that will be in vain. So we can help by removing the flower altogether, and thus redirects the energy back into making the next bud even stronger.”
Caius understood what being handed the shears implied, and he began searching for those poppies that were struggling the most. He started snipping, watching as the flowers clinging to a cluster of small black seeds hit the soil and dispersed.
They fell into silence, relaxed by the simple action.
As Caius was becoming absorbed, his papa broached a question, “Do you know why I chose this type of flower?” It was unlikely he expected Caius to know the answer, “It was one that also lived in the times of our ancestors.”
Caius stopped and turned to face his papa.
Who smiled, “I thought you might be interested. These poppies weren’t just your average flower to them, either. To some, it was the enduring symbol of remembrance. This simple flower is what they may have used to communicate their respect for all those who had fallen in times of hardship.”
Whenever they spoke of their ancestors, the ancient ones, even Yulia could only state that what they learned was speculation. They only received glimpses of what once was. But no matter what, each and every detail Caius heard was truly fascinating.
Then he realised something, which his papa must have recognised. Of all of the species of flowers, he had chosen one that symbolised remembrance.
His papa continued to clip two more poppies before setting down the shears and straightening his back. The silver piece of jewellery hanging loosely around his neck caught one of the rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. The accessory reached down his exposed pale throat and stopped just before one of the panels of his silk shirt that crossed over the other and tied ornately at his side.
Only Caius, who stood close, could see what transcended the outfit into something unique to his papa. The very interior lining was made of a more vibrant material, with a repeated pattern that matched the string that was tied into a bow. It likely stretched up throughout the collar, but it was yet another flare to his papa that didn’t have to make sense. It was like he kept the patterns to himself.
“I planted them for your father,” he revealed, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I wasn’t someone who was interested in gardening, but when we first arrived here I was surprised by how beautiful unkempt nature could be. I realised then that I truly wanted to make this our home, and decided that I would start by choosing a flower that reminded me of your father.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
He reached and nudged one of the poppies with the back of his finger. “There were so many I could have chosen from, like the beautiful Lotus, Agapanthus, Edelweiss or Chrysanthemums… but then I saw the poppies, and the intensity of colour that came from such a small plant, it reminded me of how radically your father changed my life.”
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Ktlr lcaglcrlm jmalbc kjr cbalmfv, jcv Jjler kjamtfv atf nlrlyif mtjcuf lc tlr qjqj’r fzqgfrrlbc. Ktf ereji mbcagbi atja kjr jiwbra uejgjcaffv klat tlr qjqj’r wjccfglrwr, rffwfv ab ojiafg jcv atf alvji kjnf bo uelia mgjrtfv obgat.
“I’m sorry, my soul. I’ve made things difficult between us because of my unwillingness to give you answers you deserve to know.” He cast aside any hesitations and took ahold of one of Caius’ hands. “If you would let me, I would like to try and make it up to you.”
Even though the weather outside continued to improve, with clouds dispersing, the only two inhabitants of the meadow ended up going inside. They walked silently through their most treasured home, both consumed with drastically different thoughts.
They stopped in front of a storage room just off to the side of Finian’s own room. Of course, Caius had been inside of the room once or twice but had never seen anything remotely interesting other than it being where his papa stored the clothes that wouldn’t fit inside his own wardrobe.
His papa looked surprisingly relaxed as he opened the door. A series of warm lights activated as soon as they entered; there was also a noticeable change in temperature. A few degrees cooler, and the air dryer.
On one side of the rectangular room, and behind a protective shield, were many slatted drawers that were carefully stacked high with various rolls of fabrics. Each colour coordinated and individually labelled. Their individual textures made Caius’ fingers itch to feel them. However the screen that protected them was a clear warning that he wasn’t allowed to.
His papa stopped at the side of the room where his clothes were hanging up. The more intricate pieces, that Caius had rarely seen his papa wear, were stored with just as much care and attention as the rolled fabrics. They were incredibly well-made and varied in patterns, from bold to the more familiar subtle ones.
Regardless, Caius wished he could see them more often. Especially the series of colours he never would have thought his papa would choose to wear. It made him wonder why they were so preciously contained within an otherwise unremarkable room.
“There are quite a lot of patterns, aren’t there?”
Caius agreed, still taking in the sheer enormity of the collection. Not that he could vividly recall from his past, but there seemed to a lot more than he remembered.
“Ones you probably wouldn’t expect to see me wearing?” His papa voiced his previous thoughts, and Caius turned to look at him when he picked up on the slight amusement under his breath.
Caius wondered if it was a matter of confidence, “You look wonderful in everything you wear, papa.”
A warm smile greeted him in response, “Thank you, my soul. I wasn’t looking for flattery, but your insistence on providing it makes this old man happy.” He put a hand over his heart.
“You’re not old, though.”
His papa paused, “But I have white hair?”
They looked at each other, mirror images of each other if not for the slight curl at the ends of Caius’ hair. He screwed up his face, lamenting on how easy it was for his papa to change the mood. Lapsing into playful teasing. Which, after he turned away with a discreet hand over the mouth to hide a smile, was visibly the boost his papa needed before following on with what he had to say.
“Every single roll of fabric you see here, was chosen by your other father.” He finally confessed and seeing the inevitable surprise on his son’s face, Finian continued with a lighter heart, “Once outside of the confines of our home, he was forced by duty to wear white and gold, but when it was just the two of us, he adorned the most exquisite forms of dress.”
Finian sauntered over to yet another compartment within the room, another section that stood protected behind a shield in order to prevent any deterioration due to ageing. He only needed to touch his palm upon the surface for the doors to open and reveal a clothesline of pristine outfits that hung without a single crease, or a speck of dust.
The smile on Finian’s face was mesmerising for Caius to see. It urged him forwards and closer to see the uncommon styles that Caius had always assumed were unique to his papa.
“He had this absolute fascination with patterns and materials,” Finian shook his head, remembering various instances where he would be forced to listen as his partner divulged every historic backstory that came with the fabrics. His most favoured fabric being a deep red with gold trim and a bold character that symbolised prosperity. One in which, in the end, he never got to wear.
Caius tentatively reached out and touched one of the long robes. It was light in weight and smooth enough to feel outlandishly comfortable against the skin. Of course, Caius could recognise some of the fabrics. His fascination with the old ways and the materials they once used to express their artistry had brought him closer to his other father without even knowing it himself.
“Silk and cotton?” He tested and instead of being surprised, his papa had the most loving expression on his face as a response.
“That’s exactly right, my soul. These are the very fabrics that paved the way for the advanced attires of our day. I believe the appropriate saying was that they were stepping-stones. But our current society has forgotten what it means to be contented by the simplest of things. They know nothing else but the addiction for constant advancements.”
Caius continued to brush a small section of the material between his thumb and forefinger as he listened. And surrounded by the items that were the result of his previously unknown parent’s hobby, Caius was able to smile as he admitted,
“But he wasn’t like them.”
His papa laughed aloud, “No. For a variety of reasons, he was an anomaly. For one, instead of bringing his partner luxurious gifts upon his return from a mission, or in some cases spoils of war, he would return with the biggest of grins on his face and arms filled with these elaborate fabrics to present to me.” He shook his head as he reminisced, slowly coasting around the small room.
“Somewhere along the line a misconception must have occurred where he strongly believed I was just as enthralled with his hobby as he was. It likely stemmed from me being completely incapable of stopping him when he spoke so passionately about the whole subject.”
Caius was consumed along the way by the abundance of joy that surrounded his papa. The drastic change in emotions was equally as shocking, given that they were reserved for a single individual Caius had wondered about for many years.
There were instances where he struggled to determine how people felt, if he wasn’t told directly, however there was the gentlest of scents that circulated the confined room. It made Caius feel lighter and filled with energy, but more than anything, his reserved happiness had invariably grown.
Finian was unaware that, in his relaxed state, the inherited skill he had let slip at his son’s coming-of-age ceremony, had trickled out. But as it was his son who was close by, there wasn’t even the slightest of dangers.
He looked at Caius, who eagerly looked right back. “Your unyielding passion for what you love actually reminds me of him.”
Caius looked at the clothes, those of which had actually been turned from the rolls of fabric into articles of clothing. They were visibly larger than anything he or his papa could wear. That alone fed his imagination and made him quietly long to meet the man.
“What was his name?” He wondered, a question he had once avoided in fear of upsetting his papa. Now there was nothing but confidence. Caius had been shown only a slither of who his other father was, and in doing so solidified his determination to know everything else that was left to know. There was no going back.
Which was similar to Finian’s own thoughts, who didn’t even pause to think. “He was called Zi Xin.”
“Zi Xin,” Caius echoed. “Zi Xin… Zi Xin.” The more familiar the name was on his tongue, the bigger his smile got.
It had the same reaction for Finian, who had longed for his little soul to utter his father’s name. The sense of pride was second to none.
He sat them down on a chair and stool that had been tucked away. Somewhere for Finian to console himself, hiding away when his grief became too difficult to handle. Unwilling to share his infectious mood with his little ray of sunshine.
The pair had linked hands as they sat close, Caius seated on the slightly lower stool. The slightest of physical contact provided any such comfort his papa needed.
“It feels like a lifetime ago, but I did once live on Nova. The Creed family, our family,” he emphasised with a squeeze of Caius’ hand, “have deep roots on that planet. But generations ago, our Creed ancestors found the old religion— our Ancients. We have always been known for our brute determination, so our ancestors cared very little for the many unspoken rules of Nova, and following the devastation of the plague, embraced this newfound faith.”
Finian ran his thumb over the back of Caius’ hand, a means of collecting his thoughts as he went along. “Nova, or more specifically the Governing Body that rules it, cherish those old families. They still do, with avid conviction. So they more than likely didn’t take too kindly to our Creed ancestors choosing to place their loyalty elsewhere. At the time however, the Governing Body were young in their political position and were not going to lash out at families as deep-rooted as our own.”
“What about other father’s family?”
His papa suddenly chuckled, tapping his son’s hand. “I’m getting there, don’t you worry. Because of our old ties to Nova, when my parents passed away when I was quite young, archaic laws stated that the Governing Body became the ones who made my decisions for me until I turned eighteen years old.”
“What sort of decisions?” Caius again piped up.
Finian didn’t mind, “Such as where I lived, schools I attended, what was expected of me, and eventually who I was arranged to marry. I was a bright child who never caused them any problems and ultimately never asked questions.”
“You and father were arranged together?! Was it after attending the Finishing School?”
Strangely, Caius found that his papa stared at him soundlessly for a moment. A long enough time to gather that it wasn’t all that plain and simple.
His papa broke their gaze, and looked towards the direction of the hanging clothes. “I was arranged to marry a young man who was the type all of my classmates wished to be engaged to. He was good-looking, promised a top-tier ranking, had a strong background and was absolutely faultless.”
Their eyes met again, and Finian reached out and caressed his son’s cheek.
“But I had long since learnt to be cautious of those who maintained dazzling smiles. He was far from faultless, and I instead fell head over heels for someone else. Who, like me, no longer had any family behind him and relied upon himself. He was every bit as capable as the other Alphas who were his classmates. But unlike them, there was no certainty with his future rank, no certainty that he would have a stable life because of everything he was repeatedly told he lacked. And yet I was one-hundred-percent certain that I would only ever love him.”
Caius snuggled against his papa’s hand. “You and father were the only two who had no one?”
“That’s the sad truth. But let me tell you, my soul, I don’t regret a single moment. We angered people who bear grudges to this day, but I would do it all over again if I could. Your father and I could tell there was something between us from very early on — after he got past my bite and I his incessant belief that I was confused in my attraction for him — but once we said those three words to each other then we were as good as married.”
Every single piece of information warmed Caius’ heart. He felt unbelievably cheerful for both his parents, delighted that they had actually fallen so deeply in love. They hadn’t conformed to Nova’s expectations, in the end.
“But you did eventually get married?” He couldn’t help but wonder.
His papa made the slightest sound of displeasure. “After a while, when we were officially allowed to by the Governing Body. I doubt they would have truly allowed it, if not for your father and I taking every opportunity to exaggerate our love when in public.” He said with a wink and Caius flushed.
“Papa!”
Finian had a real belly laugh at the response of his precious child. “Of course I meant that your father would turn up after I finished Cora with the biggest bouquets of flowers. In fact they were the only instances where his gifts weren’t endless rolls of fabric. They did the trick, however.”
Now that the identity of his father had been revealed, the stories came in an endless stream. Both Omegas were huddled together in the small room, occasionally laughing sweetly and sometimes rendering the youngest speechless. There wasn’t a single thing that could break that moment, and all previous tensions completely evaporated.
It was as if the very same Alpha they were talking about was holding the two people in his embrace, placing them amongst his prized possessions in that room and keeping the outside world at bay.
“I want to show you one more thing.” Finian revealed, brushing a couple of strands of Caius’ hair off his face.
They stayed where they were, and from the slim band that wrapped around Finian’s wrist, he tapped on the screen and an audible clunking sound was heard from somewhere in the room. Locks easing, one of the only wall panels that hadn’t been used for storage carefully turned to reveal yet another see-through case.
But as Caius inspected it, he found that the light behind the screen was dimmed, so he could only just make out the outline of a suit. He tilted his head towards his papa, who smiled encouragingly as he climbed to his feet and offered him a hand.
There were some slight yet noticeable differences to the way— whatever it was— was being stored. It was temperature regulated to a much stricter degree than the rest of the room. But Caius wasn’t left too long to make assumptions as to why.
As once they stood directly in front of the tinted screen, the lights activated and bounced off the white and gold of the uniform, instantly identifying it. The impeccably preserved uniform was being worn by a headless mannequin, allowing Caius to see what the uniform would have looked like on a figure.
The golds on the shoulders still maintained their shine when under the light, but further down the arms, and towards the cuffs, was the slightest signs of wear and tear. Even the pristine white showed the faintest signs of discolouration, but that was completely understandable given just how white the uniform originally was.
Caius would be covered in scuff marks within the first hour if he wore such a uniform. But it was refreshing to see, on top of everything else, that there was imperfections when it came to Nova. Since any soldier Caius had previously met were completely dazzling, without a single flaw to themselves or their uniform.
“You recognise the colourings, that is a relief.” His papa mused.
“Father wore this?”
“That’s right. I can’t tell you how often I would have to polish the badges, pins and golds. Your father was incapable of keeping his uniform intact, and was regularly scolded by his superiors when they had daily inspection.”
Caius laughed gently at his papa’s aggrieved expression.
“This was the uniform he wore when he was training as a cadet. Although he wasn’t fond of it, given how much he prefers certain colours and bold patterns, he saved it because it was his first outfit since he earned his stars.” He explained and pointed to certain areas of the uniform for Caius to follow along.
His papa moved behind him and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on top of Caius’ own. “They were expected to treasure these uniforms, and that was put to the test as they maintained the same one throughout their training, and after graduating the academy as fully-fledged soldiers. Even as your father entered the top branch after earning several distinctions, the only addition was some more gold. Which you can see is the shiniest on his collar.”
The weight on Caius increased ever so slightly as his papa held him a fraction more tightly.
“The only time the soldier gets a new uniform is when a second golden stripe is added to the lapel, which symbolises their maturity and also the fact that they have gotten married.”
Hugging him from behind, his papa had to bring his arms out in front of him to get to the band on his wrist. From there, after a series of taps, the screen that kept them separated from the uniform retracted and Caius whole body went stiff.
He would have faltered in his steps if not for the steadying embrace he was receiving.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the breath got caught in his throat. A scent had flooded out and gripped him, but as quickly as it stunned him, it began to have the opposite effect. It made him feel warm, and for some odd reason there was a tiny sense of familiarity.
“Do you recognise it?”
Caius went to shake his head, not completely convinced that he did, but ended up pausing. His eyes transfixed on the uniform and the pheromone that now left him entranced. There wasn’t a shred of hostility to it, and it acted in the same way his papa’s did when surrounding him almost like a hug.
There were some similarities to the one he was surrounded by on a daily basis. One he automatically recognised as his papa’s and felt safe when in the presence of. Merged together, both parents had pheromones that resembled the scents he found when wandering around the meadow. Both subtle and earthy, the remarkable cacophony of smells that nature exuded following a showering of rain.
Seeing Caius subconsciously nodding his head, Finian broke out with one of the most beautiful of smiles. He snuggled his son even closer. “Remembering the scents of our loved ones is second nature to us.”
“How do I know it’s his when I’ve never met him?”
Finian kissed Caius’ temple. “My soul, you recognise it because the very first thing I did when you were born was to wrap you up in an item of clothing belonging to your father.”
For a while, neither one moved from their position. Caius comfortably rested in the arms that were wrapped around him. Only after endlessly staring at the uniform, did something his papa had previously said, spark a question.
“Do you have the uniform he wore once you both got married?”
There was no response from the man behind him. Caius looked over his shoulder and as soon as he met his papa’s gaze, he was given a reassuring squeeze before they gently separated. Caius could only witness the distant look reappear, a wall that wanted to wedge itself between them again.
“As I said before, that was your father’s only uniform. Given his rank, he was expected to wear it at all times when in public and on mission. So seeing as the last time I saw him was when he was on-duty, I have to confess that I would truly love to know where it was, as well.”
In only a few words, Caius felt his chest constricting.
He wanted to ask the obvious question, but either because he didn’t want to know it himself, or that he was reluctant to hurt his papa, the words didn’t leave his throat.
In the end, he didn’t have to say anything. A holographic image appeared before him and it showed a crisp white document.
Caius’ eyes lit up when he saw a small image in the corner, displaying a handsome man with dark eyes and matching dark hair. His face was very serious when taking the picture, but was overall incredibly charming. It was his father, and while he wanted nothing else but to continue looking at the small picture, his gaze was dragged over to the large three letters that dominated the page.
K . I . A
Caius tried to find any specific detail that related to the bold sentencing, but there was nothing. It felt like a huge chunk of information was simply missing. His father was said to have been killed while on a mission, but no where was the mission specified, or how it had happened. The flimsy holographic image was all that there was, and Caius couldn’t help but look at his papa in bewilderment.
Any question he asked was almost certainly going to be identical to the questions his papa plagued himself with over the years.
Caius knew enough from his studies with Yulia to know that Nova were stringent when it came to privacy. So if his papa didn’t have more to share with him, then it was no longer about being unwilling to tell him, but instead that he no longer had anything left to say.
As the hologram shut off, Finian moved to stand in front of Caius and cut off view of the uniform.
“I know it hurts, my soul. There are so many questions, but no one who will answer them. Unfortunately, those whom would be willing, won’t do so without asking for something in return. But I know how painful it is when answers are kept from you, and I’m truly sorry for putting you in that situation. In my own way I thought keeping you from knowing the truth about your father and his disappearance would spare you the unanswered questions.”
Caius slowly inched forward and his head tapped on his papa’s shoulder. Arms came around and snuggly held him.
“Do you really think he’s…”
A sigh came from above, “I don’t want to give you false hope. All I do know, is what sort of person Zixin was, and I know that he would have fought tooth and nail to come back to us. Especially when he had only just found out that he was going to be a father.”
{ To be continued }
o(╥﹏╥)o
[*] — This particular top is tunic inspired. I thought it would be out of place to say ‘tunic’ in this vastly futuristic world.
😥😭😭 I really really hope his dad is alive somewhere out there!
Thank you for the chapter!!
Thanks for the chapter! ❤
Thanks for the chapter!
yanno i was in chap 11 but jumped here hahaha this part is more interesting but anyway thank you and stay ssfe author.
I can’t help but be offended, if I’m honest 🙂 I’m under no impression that my writing is a quick and easy read, however I do intentionally add a lot of relevant detailing into it. By seemingly happily announcing you’ve skipped a chunk of chapters because “this part is more interesting” (regardless of how much time and effort goes into them) then you really are missing out on hints that are relevant in the future. I don’t think this book is for you.
It haven’t been updated? I hope the writer is doing good. Hoping for future updates 🙂
😭😭😭😭 author you have me in tears my poor babies please tell me father is alive!