Chapter Text
Kuuhvakhi, Illuga has found, is something he craves. Maybe it's the act of swallowing the energy whole, feeling the satisfying churn as it infuses into his body. While he channels some elemental energy into Aedon, half the time, it's mostly just the hum of the moonlit energy thrumming across the land. In his chest, where he stores his heart, and in his palms, where he can utilize it.
It makes sense that his abilities falter, just a tad, when outside of Nod Krai.
“I'll be fine,” he breathes. “I've been fine, I'll be fine.”
He's stumbled into Snezhnaya territory by complete accident, a bit of a foolish act on his part. He's freezing cold, having traveled a bit too far north. Really, he should have turned back when the snow started thickening, but Aedon had suddenly exited the lantern and flown ahead, leaving Illuga too helpless to do anything but follow. He might die, he realizes, but as long as he hasn't confirmed Aedon's safety, he can't.
Not yet.
Without the Nightingale by his side, the kuuhvakhi within him is burning to keep him warm, and the elemental energy within his vision is doing its best to try and pause the cold from settling in. The sheer cold is like an unwelcome guest, in his bones, deeply settled where he cannot remove it without exiting the continent completely. His voice is raw from the cold, his teeth gritting. “Aedon!”
At first, no response. The hope within him dies a bit, until he catches a flicker of blue within the snow.
“Hello.”
The voice is sing-songy, yet deep. Pleasant to listen too, and if it weren't for the circumstances, Illuga would be enraptured by it. Instead, his eyes brighten. “Is there somebody there?”
“Yes,” the voice answers. The blue draws closer, revealing itself as a lantern attached to the hip of a man. He's tall, pale- makes sense, given the weather, and the only other thing Illuga can make out is the piercing yellow eyes. “This bird here, is he yours?”
“Yes, yes, oh Aedon-” Illuga's hands reach out, and the Nightingale cooes before landing in his palms. Instantly, color fills Illuga's cheeks, and a soft light starts emanating. “You worried me sick!”
The bird chirps indignantly, hopping in circles before finding its way back into his lantern. Illuga makes sure that the kuuhvakhi creature is safe, before he remembers his manners. “I'm sorry to have troubled you, sir.” The young lightkeeper says, anxiety biting its way through his relief. “I don't- I'm quite–”
“The weather is awfully bad today, isn't it?” The figure muses, humming. “Would you like to stay at my residence, just until the storm blows over?”
Illuga pauses, hesitation flickering in his features. “I don't know.”
Yellow eyes burn into him. “You'll freeze to death in these conditions.”
“I'm more resilient than I look,” Illuga huffs. He certainly is, with Aedon by his side.
“Then allow me to walk you back.”
Finding no complaint in that, the young ratnik nods, turning back the way he came and beginning his trudge. It's strange, Illuga muses to himself, to find someone out in the wild like this. “Do you live around here?”
“Yes, I do.” The man hums, keeping a steady pace behind Illuga. “The people around here call me ‘Flins’, young master. And you?”
Illuga frowns. “Young master? That feels much too formal for someone such as myself.”
“...How else am I supposed to refer to you, young master?” Flins says, not contemplatively, but in a way that makes Illuga feel ever so slightly inferior. Just slightly. “You haven't quite introduced yourself, and yet you seem to harbor noble intentions. Not many would run into a blizzard for their companion.”
“Aedon is more than a companion,” Illuga balks. “He's my friend.”
Flins makes a noise, and Illuga realizes he hasn't answered his initial question. “Ah, and- um, I'm a ratnik for the Lightkeepers stationed in Nod Krai. A task force of people who willingly risk their lives to fend off the Wild Hunt.”
“So you are indeed noble.”
“No,” Illuga insists. “I'm too young. Too inexperienced. I still blunder often, and it's rare anyone takes me seriously. Even if my intentions are as noble as you believe them to be, you would be the only one to treat me with such respect.”
“That's quite unfortunate,” the downward note in Flins’ voice is palpable, indicating displeasure, and Illuga bites back the want to apologize. “Many people find wit or strength to be quite impressive, but I do believe determination to be a far more attractive quality. It seems to be one you possess much of, young master.”
It's just the cold that flushes Illuga's cheeks red, certainly not the praise. As the two walk, the storm seems to be clearing up only slightly, and the familiar terrain of Nod Krai is within reach. “I am no young master.”
Nod Krai is so close.
“You're right,” Flins agrees easily. “You're more akin to the sun. You glow so brightly, even now, when surrounded with murky snow, cold and unyielding.”
Nod Krai is so close.
“I wouldn't say that either,” Illuga exhales, feeling a puff leave his chest. “I'm just... Illuga.”
The snow behind him stops crunching, and it makes Illuga pause and turn back as well to check on the man behind him.
Now that they've left the snowstorm, Illuga can see more of this Flins character. His eyes are that same piercing yellow, but a black border surrounds them- is the black his iris? Does that mean the yellow is his pupil? That cannot be healthy. Moreover, his hair is long, an inky oil color if you were to hold a flame just slightly over it. Not close enough to ignite, but instead allowing color to dance along the liquid.
Flins looks disappointed, yet curious.
“Is that your name?” the man asks, and Illuga nods.
To that, Flins frowns. “Why refer to yourself in such an impersonal way? Many would be dying to have their claws on a name so beautiful, young master Illuga.”
“You did not learn my name just to refer to me with the title.” The lightkeeper grumbles lightly. Illuga turns to keep walking, leaving Flins stumbling to keep up.
In truth, it's because Illuga does not value himself very highly. It's clear to himself, as a growing problem, that everyone else is just a priority higher than him in terms of wellbeing. His squad, Aedon, surrounding lightkeepers, the Starshyna, the passerbies, the animals, the nature surrounding them, the dead, the inanimate.
Illuga himself ranks very last.
Every hobby the young man has taken on has been in favor of others. Each game and skill he learns acts as a performance for somebody else, not once has anything been for his own enjoyment alone. He finds the most enjoyment when he's with his comrades, and he has been prepped for war.
Not a child soldier, but someone who's been a soldier since he was a child.
It's not a want to die, Illuga reminds himself. It's simply indifference.
“Master Illuga, I meant it when I said I see you as the sun.” Illuga turns his head slightly, and startles when he sees Flins looking at him with such intent. “You truly are glowing. Radiant. I don't think you understand how badly you must realize this.”
This is growing to be uncomfortable. “...You flatter me too much, Sir Flins.”
“Not flattery,” Flins says ominously. “A truth you must recognize.”
A finger finds its way underneath Illuga's chin, tilting his head up, and Flins stares him down.
“How am I to consume you otherwise?”
Perhaps it's the underdeveloped fear instinct that hasn't found itself important up until now, because Illuga seems to just now realize that this person may be dangerous. He's heard stories before, about monsters like these. As a child, Illuga used to hide under the covers in fear of them. He faces them off on a daily basis now, so instead of fear, he feels undeniable confusion.
“Consume me?” Illuga utters, in disbelief.
Only now does Flins seem a bit amused. “Yes, that was the plan. A strapping young man, alone in a blizzard, the goal he was looking for in my palms. But how am I supposed to do anything with you, when your name has no tie to you?”
The fae is observing him, and Illuga has been seen. He doesn't want to be seen, he really, truly doesn't, but it appears he cannot be unseen.
“Is it that you gave me a false name?” Flins ponders aloud. “No, your facial features are much too honest for that. So truly, the only answer is you don't care for yourself as much as one would assume.”
And then a hungry yellow gleams at him. “I meant it when I see you as the sun, I mean it. You're glowing, quite literally, master Illuga. It enchants me.”
Kuuhvakhi, Illuga realizes. Damned kuuhvakhi. “I really am quite plain,” he protests feebly. “I'm unsure what you're seeing.”
Flins’ grin sharpens. With glee, the fae sends shivers down Illuga's spine. “You're lying.”
Illuga stares in morbid curiosity as Flins traces cold fingers along his cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind Illuga's ear, wondering what move to make next. Does he draw his weapon and face this nightmare head on? Does he embrace the creature here to devour him whole? Does he move his feet and run homeward bound?
Indecision keeps him rooted to the ground. Flins smiles at Illuga, mirth and a playful curiosity mixed in with a carnal hunger.
“Young master Illuga,” Flins says, voice low and dangerous. “You shall know worth. Then I will devour your heart and soul, whole.”
Illuga turns and does what he does best. He runs, like the coward he is. He cannot die here, for people need him.
As entrancing as it is, as tempting as it is, Illuga cannot die yet.
His feet are thudding across the ground as Flins laughs distantly, running and crossing from Snezhnaya into Nod Krai territory, running for Piramida City, running home.
It's not until a couple months later does his father, the Starshyna, introduces him to a new recruit he's adding to the Nightmare Orioles. Illuga nods, polite, only to freeze when Flins is standing in front of him.
"Captain," the fae all but purrs. "I'm honored to be under your service."
As Nikita claps Illuga on the shoulder, all the young lightkeeper can do is swallow the panic in his throat as he smiles back.
"I am honored to have you," Illuga's throat is scratchy as he says it, and Flins' grin widens.