Cadeyrn is already downstairs when the knock comes, so he abandons the paints he had been sorting. (They were already sorted and he didn’t need to rearrange them by name or color again, but it was something to do that distracted him from the insistent tug in his chest that demanded he stay next to Asterius and serve his god-)

He opens the door with more force than necessary.

It's barely past dawn, but even in the limited light (only two suns were shining in the sky these days), he can still easily make out the familiar figure.

Cadeyrn doesn’t bother saying anything to the Celestial, just moves to re-shut the door.

A large, gauntleted hand catches the edge of the wood, pushing the door back open with more ease than Cadeyrn would like to admit. Solveig moves into the doorframe, blocking any future attempt to keep him out. There’s a scowl on his face, a flickering fire in his hair. Dressed in the gleaming golden armor of Heaven’s Vanguard, he has not come to ask nicely today.

“Rude as ever I see demon.”

He does not grace that pitiful taunt with a response, not that he really could respond even if he wanted to. Asterius hadn’t given him an order, but he had made it very clear that Cadeyrn wasn’t to do anything that would stir Solveig’s ire.

“Solveig can and will kill you,” he had scowled, a certainty to his words only one who has seen the future could have, Cadeyrn hates the fact his traitorous instincts had not been lamenting his end but thrilled that his god cared enough to look into his fate. “Don’t pick fights with him,” the God of Fate had continued, before quickly tacking on a rushed, “Fighting with him will only bring me trouble.”

“Stand aside Gehennan,” Solveig orders, breaking him out of his memory and stepping forward almost fully into the house. 

Cadeyrn holds his ground, glaring up at the Celestial, even as an uncomfortable twisting sensation rises in his gut. He’s not following the moon’s orders and is working against the wishes of the god who is his. He’s caught in a terrible crossroads. Struggling to resist his instincts, to fight and defend this fragile peace, (to protect that precious god who looks at him like he finally matters-). While the other side wants to cave, to comply with the moon's orders, to be good. (Cadeyrn is not good, has never been good, but the desire to make Asterius think he lingers and burns.) 

The God of the Blood Sun frowns when he doesn’t take the bait. So, he reaches out to physically move Cadeyrn out of the way instead. But he stops when a yell echoes down the stairs-

“Cadeyrn?!” and he hates how his spine snaps a little straighter, heart racing a fraction faster, his head already turning to face the voice, “Who’s at the door?”

Cadeyrn could lie, should lie. The more Solveig poked into their business the more likely he was to notice this was not the original Asterius. It was a threat to keep a Celestial so close to his-

He cuts off his own thoughts, turning sharply to the side so he doesn’t have to look at the Blood Sun anymore, shoving down the misplaced feelings of loyalty. He’s too tangled up in instincts long since dormant, Asterius isn’t the moon (but no matter how many times he repeats it, it doesn’t change the truth that at least some part of Cadeyrn thought he was.).

It takes more effort than he would like to shape his features into a glare, even that much stokes the licking flames of wrongness in his chest. It would be so much easier to just step aside, to walk away and not bother with Solveig, but the thought of leaving Asterius to face this god alone- that thought causes a deep jagged pain to fill him, to burn his veins with an anger that is not fully his own. He will let no one touch his god.

“Cadeyrn?” and the voice sounds closer, the upper bedroom door creaking open. He had taken too long and had disappointed his god with his indecision. Regret blooms in his chest like a weed taking to a garden, for that is all his heart is for Astreius, a garden for him to plant whatever beautiful and poisonous flowers he desires. 

“Are you going to inform him I’m here demon?” the Celestial mocks, glaring back just as fiercely, flames burning at the ends of his hair.

Cadeyrn hates the fact that it twists the unknown thing inside him, ‘Don’t pick fights with Solveig’ Asterius had said. He scowls at the demon, annoyed he can’t force himself to fight against the order. He turns back into the house, calling back, “The God of the Blood Sun!”

Asterius stops. Tightening his grip on the handle before quickly forcing it open. Pluma, either sensing his urgency or just not wanting to be left behind, jumps after him. Mid-hop he slips back into his Griffin form, clinging to his shoulder, as Asterius quickly rushes out to the upper landing. Sure enough, through the complex chandelier blocking his view, he spots Heaven’s Vanguard darkening their doorstep. There is a glare on Solveig's face, and fire licking his hair. He’s dressed for war, in a golden suit of armor and a long red cape that blends in with his hair.

He doesn’t look like a brother just stopping in for a chat. Asterius was a fool to think he would stop coming after he kicked him out yesterday.

[Host] The System warns, edges not red yet, but obviously warning him from acting recklessly in front of the Male Lead.

He slows his pace, moving from a fast walk into a quick stroll, easily slipping in front of Cadeyrn with an impassive mask of minor annoyance. “Solveig,” he greets curtly as the god in question openly scans his form. He feels his eyebrow twitch at the curious gesture, maybe Solveig merely came to catch him in his underclothes again, he was sure it was quite the humorous sight, the feared god of fate, sleep tussled and watery-eyed. Thankfully he had gotten dressed this morning (mostly at the System's instance, he's happy he listened now.)

He stands a little taller, letting more of his displeasure show, “And why are you here?”

Solveig startles out of his stare at the blunt tone, glancing up at Asterius’s face, before quickly shifting his gaze behind him. Asterius takes a small step to the side, not fully blocking Solveig’s view as both of them are far taller than he, but the intent is enough, Solveig’s eyes re-find him.

“The prophecy,” he starts voice clipped and stunting, “Frid wanted to know more.”

Of course, he did. Most of Celestia probably wanted to know more. Honestly, he’s not surprised Solveig is back, he’ll probably have a few more visitors before the week is up hounding him for more answers. He had basically told all of the heavens that they weren’t going to have a leader for over 20 years, the news would be alarming to pretty much everyone.

But- he glances at the System, it already has a textbox open as though expecting him to ask, [No. Host cannot give any more information away, it could alter the plot].

“I have said all that I will say about it,” he informs him, “do not ask me again.”

Solveig flinches back at the harsh tone, and a sputter of small fires flicker to life in his hair. Asterius tenses, ready for the notorious temper the god has to flare, but Solveig seems to wrangle himself back in, taking a deep breath and nodding to himself, “Right.”

They stand in awkward silence for a beat, Asterius wants to look back, to see what Cadeyrn is thinking, but that would be far too OOC. Instead, he channels every rude customer he’s ever had to wait for and – “Do you need anything else?”

Solveig blinks, “I uh-,” he cuts himself off, looking away from Asterius’s eyes to glance around the house quickly, as though looking for something, “I was just...”

He raises an eyebrow, this was uncharacteristic Solveig behavior. As the God of the Blood Sun, Solveig was prone to violent acts, a temper mightier than his flames, cold and unwavering. But that feared general was… stuttering on his doorstep, hands fidgeting at his sides.

“You just what?” he asks, already tired from all the OOC warnings he’s sure the System is about to give him.

Solveig’s eyes snap back to him, he fumbles once more, before nodding sharply, “Good day.”

And he spins on his heels and walks away.

Asterius stares off after him, dumbfounded. He glances at Pluma to see the little angel equally confused, Cadeyrn has a confused frown tugging down his lips, and the System just gives him a [¯_ (ツ)_/¯].

“Master,” Pluma starts slowly as they all watch Solveig quickly walk down the road. Blood-red flames licking up the sides of his boots and smoldering in his hair as he marches down the dirt path, “is there something wrong with him?”

“No idea,” he admits, worrying starting to pool in his gut, about this change. This could very well be an offense big enough to be terminated, “Maybe we should-,”

Cadeyrn presses into his back, causing his voice and thoughts to stutter to a stop, as the demon reaches over him and closes the front door with a loud snap. “Heaven’s Vanguard is none of our business.”

And right, Asterius forgot, Solveig was nearly about to kill him yesterday, of course, Cadeyrn would be uncomfortable and want the conversation about him to end quickly. So, he lets the matter drop entirely, hopefully, he won’t need to worry about Solveig until the novel picks back up in 20 years.