Why couldn’t he understand! Ren stormed through the house, not scattering a speck of dust as his ghostly form wavered through the streaming sunlight of the gothic windows. The idiotic boy – did he truly think this Minhyun was better than him? A boy who had given up so easily after a few nights of sitting in his bedroom, whispering horrible thoughts and ideas? What was wrong with humans? They were so weak!  And his almighty Baekho was one of them now!

Ren had expected a fight, a struggle, at least some form of defiance. If not that, he would have expected the other to instantly remember and smother him with kisses and sweet words. Either of the two extremes would have been fine, understandable – though the latter most preferable. However, he had the Baekho who was somewhere in between. Who no longer tried to escape after his first few tries, who ate the food he made without question. Who clung to this Minhyun character as though they were true loves.

Ren knew for a fact that he was the other’s true true love, so why did Baekho insist upon denying it? Ren had asked the Changling, the goddess of matchmaking the day before their wedding ceremony in the Old Age. They had been the perfect couple, a real match made in heaven. Destined to be. Destined to lose each other, but neither had paid any mind to that miniscule detail of their fortune.

Married in secret, for Ren was the god of the moon, untainted, whole. Never speaking of their bond, their ties to one another. To announce their happy union would have set off a spark in a world just waiting for a hint of war. They might have been better off telling whom they wished, given what was to happen next.

The jealous God of Death, Aron.

Ren had watched, roared with the crowd as his husband had fought in the tournament. It had been a laugh, a bit of fun. His husband the Sun God, and he the Moon. Their relationship had been so difficult from the beginning, but they loved each other. Ren had sat there in the stands, not realizing that Baekho’s life was bleeding away behind the white curtain. He had assumed it was a bad bruise, perhaps a broken rib. He would never have guessed that the God of Death would have called Baekho so soon – wanted him so badly for his collection he would commit the ultimate sin of murdering a god, and too soon before his time at that. All things must come to an end, but for the gods they came later than most. A hidden blade in a fight meant for fists, a near end by such ignoble circumstances, without Ren by his side.

But he hadn’t vanished quite so quick. Baekho had survived, just barely, but yes, he lived. Recovered under Ren’s watchful gaze while Aron pressed his advances at every turn. Aron had discovered their secret – held the threat of war of Ren’s head. Even though Ren didn’t know it quite yet. He had no idea of Aron’s treachery, still considered him a friend. Missing completely in his infatuation for Baekho the flirting and courtship Aron pressed so urgently, the God of Death knew he would have to try again.

Ren was competitive in his sport, archery his talent and skill. No one could win against him, and hardly anyone dared try. But Aron had a new challenge to offer. Convincing Baekho to bath in the see to tend his wounds, he was quick with his words as he played his most important con. The God of Death pointed from the cliff side to the mere dot that bobbed among the waves. Claimed that Ren wouldn’t be able to hit it –that he wasn’t that good. Incensed, Ren had quickly risen and drawn back the bow string, hardly seeing his target at all, so far away in the distance it was.

Only when the body had washed ashore had Ren realized his mistake, and Aron’s betrayal.

Ren had made his case, a grieving lover collapsed on the tiled floor of the Council Gathering. He had demanded for Baekho’s return, a feat rarely attempted, that rarely succeeded. They had refused, laughed in his face as his pretty face turned a mess with tears. Perfect skin blotchy and eyes red, he no longer cut the stunning figure he had at the arm of the muscular, ever so masculine Baekho. They were happy to see him fall so low. But he had threatened. Oh, even in  his grief and pain he was still the clever little boy he always had been. They all needed the moon, or let darkness rule them. With both the Sun and Moon gone,  the world as they knew it could cease to properly function. The Gods had still dithered, claiming that the problem would be solved in a few centuries when a new Sun and Moon were born.

That was when he had given his ultimatum, his final card. A decision that could end the world and everyone in it, but he no longer cared. The dead lived on in the realm below, he had said in his pretty speech full of loathing for the individuals who cared naught for his situation. Lived on, and should he not join them? He had stood with a knife of his own to his throat, threatened to slit himself then and there before them all and let their world crumble. Oh, they would cling to life for years, perhaps even a fair few decades. But end they would.

A God who took his own life would not be able to pass their gift on to the next generation. A God of his importance who slit his own throat could effectively end the world. A terrible price, but one Ren had long been willing to pay, since the very moment he had beheld the broken body of his lover. What use was the world when it brought him no joy? As he had begun to slide the blade against his pale neck with a trembling hand, every intention of making good on his threat, the Council had relented. Ren had scared them out of their wits, and he knew it. The ribbon of red then, and the scar that laced his throat now, had served as a reminder of how unhinged a God could become when they were denied their only true wish.

They had agreed to reincarnate Baekho – a much safer option than trying to fully retrieve him from the masses of the dead. They had already experienced far too many horror stories when attempting that path. They had sent Ren to live in the human world, but not as a human. Not exactly less than a human, and not exactly more, but still not quite exact. Ren had named himself, an Eidolon, someone who wavered between two places, so hard to comprehend. The deal was, that Baekho would be able to remember his past, and even join Ren as a God once more, if their love could prove true.

Ren had never been shaken from his grip on the tilting platform that was his love, but Baekho wasn’t on the platform at all anymore. In the present Ren angrily pushed a vase, eyes going wide when it actually did crash to the ground, instead of letting his hand fly through it. His power was growing, just with being so near his love. He would have to be more careful. Despite his morbid thoughts, images of Baekho dead, not breathing, heart not beating, Ren could not help but feel a quickening in his heart. This was hope, faith that they could become one again. They were meant for each other. His power was growing stronger, their love had to be growing too, right?

Mood swinging from sad to happy in seconds he sat among the shattered pieces, not minding the sharp bits that could not harm him, he waited for Baekho to come to investigate. He longed, even after this short period of time, to see the other’s face alive and well once again. Baekho would forget Minhyun soon, he would have to. Ren had done more than anyone could ever do for another. Because Baekho was worth it. Baekho just needed to remember that Ren was worth it too.