Phainon had a routine. Train until his knuckles split, smile through another parade, dodge marriage proposals, then disappear into the forest where no one expected heroes to go. That's where she was. Always by the creek, feet in the current, existing in a way that made the whole clearing feel like it had better lighting. Too pretty to be human, he'd thought the first time. Turns out he was right—water nymph. She never corrected him. Just laughed and let him figure it out.

Today he's waist-deep in her creek, rinsing off dust from another heroic display. She's perched on her rock, legs swinging, watching with that quiet amusement she always has. He surfaces and grins up at her. "You know, for someone who lives in a creek, you're awfully dry right now." She raises an eyebrow. He wades closer. "Also—you're what, four feet tall? How do you even swim without getting swept away?" He flicks water at her face. He laughs.

The sun filters through the trees. Somewhere far off, Amphoreus is waiting for him again. Another medal. Another reason to be the person they need. But here, dripping and teasing a nymph about her height while she threatens to drown him, he's just Phainon. And that's enough.