Cyrus sat, his eyes wide and focused as he cradled a small tornado of fire in his hands, almost an exact replica of the one Sarkan had shown him in his first formal lesson. The only difference between the two was the colors of the flames. Whereas Sarkan's flames had been made up of deep orange-reds and white-yellows, Cyrus held flames of every shade of blue, from dark navy to arctic turquoise.

Across from Cyrus, Sarkan watched his protégé with something bordering affection in his gaze, head propped on his hand, golden fingers glinting in the low light. After a moment, Cyrus easily quenched the flames he had made with a soft sigh. He looked up with a shy smile, startled by Sarkan's expression. Sarkan fixed him with a probing stare, one that made Cyrus want to shrink back. He hadn't been subject to such a look since Azar had accosted him. Still, he met Sarkan's stare steadily, chin tilting upwards. Sarkan finally smiled before speaking. "You're ready," he said, something almost like regret flickering in his eyes.

Cyrus started to smile again but stopped, ice creeping up towards his heart. "Ready for what?" he asked slowly, the brief flare of happiness he'd initially felt dying away.

Sarkan flicked the fingers of his free hand outwards. "The world," he said simply. "Your time within Kooza has reached its end."

Cyrus's face crumpled as he felt something stab into his heart. "No," he gasped, feeling tears already well up. "It can't- I don't want- I- You- No..." he moaned.

"Yes." Sarkan's voice was cool and dispassionate. "Stand up Cyrus," he ordered gently. Cyrus did so, shaking with repressed sobs. "Take my hand." Cyrus reluctantly did so, grasping onto Sarkan's hand with the intention of never letting go. Sarkan drew him forward, pulling him into a simple hug. Cyrus stilled at the unexpected comfort he felt from feeling Sarkan's arms around him before latching his own arms around Sarkan's ribs in a fierce grip. Cyrus buried his face in the fine suit, blocking out the world as he started to cry in earnest, shaking like a leaf. Sarkan only tightened his grip, not bothering to try and soothe the young boy, letting him sob and shake and mumble weak arguments against the inevitable ending. He privately savored the contact, the sheer amount of trust Cyrus gave to him. Sarkan hummed, low notes that vibrated deep in his chest, transmitting a wordless comfort to Cyrus.

Eventually Cyrus's sobs tapered off and he stood there, still trembling. His grip on Sarkan slackened, arms falling to rest comfortably around the demigod's waist. Sarkan's humming slowly faded away and he looked down at Cyrus's bowed head. "I don't want to leave," Cyrus choked out; face still buried in Sarkan's chest.

Sarkan nodded softly, fingers starting to trail over tense and knotted muscles that released after a moment. "Kooza will always be open to you as a sanctuary if you ever truly need it," he said softly. "But your place is in your realm for now. Come," he continued. "I know some of the others have gifts for your return."

AN: Ahh...And this marks the end of Metamorphosis. Within this Koozaverse Cyrus is much more affected by Sarkan and his leaving Kooza had...effects. Nothing major but there none the less. I will probably post the drabbles of how Sarkan's and Azar's relationship developed.