( The trust inherent in the way Mydei gives himself over to Phainon is something he would do even back in Amphoreus; it is not a thought that Mydeimos has had before, nor one that he thinks to dwell upon. But the Deliverer is, perhaps, the only one he can do this with -- offer his neck, his chest, and know without question that the hand around his neck will never tighten. His hand moves, then, almost as if to move the Deliverer's hand away, but Phainon moves it back down to his chest just in time -- his brow wrinkles slightly, his own hand coming up to wrap around the other man's wrist, but he does not make to remove the hand from his chest. Not yet, as interrupted as he is by the words. )

Your Professor Anaxagoras? ( He is familiar enough with the man, seeing as he's spoken so highly of by Phainon. Unconventional and unusual by all accounts, but he trusts Phainon's judgement of character nearly as highly as his own, and has never thought ill of the man in spite of never meeting him. Mydei wracks his brain of what he knew before he left Okhema, of the whispers and rumors. The Black Tide takes up most of his recent memory, yes, but he remembers enough. ) How did it come to pass? Last I knew he had survived the Grove and come to Okhema. Was it his connection with the Reason Titan that shortened his life?

( A gloved thumb moves in gentle circles over the pulse point of Phainon's wrist, slow, almost clumsy in his attempt to soothe the ache of loss that Mydei knows well. He simply swallows it all, takes it to heart and takes one step after the other. But Phainon is not like him in that way, he aches and he mourns and he keeps the grief tucked in close to his heart. Foolish idiot.

But perhaps that is what makes him the Goldweaver's flawless Deliverer. Or one of many traits that make him so. )