As completely exhausted as I was, my eyes would not remain closed long enough for me to fall asleep. I was in my small room - curtains drawn and blocking the morning light. The house was quiet - Barros gone and busy sending cranes since early morning, tending to Barrens related business. After Lumo walked me home, he left to find him, perhaps to send more cranes of his own. Aixel and Cylie had gone to hunt, far too restless after the prior evening’s events to fall back asleep.
And so I lay awake, staring at the paneled wooden ceiling - part of me too terrified to close my eyes, half expecting a hall of Hercula mirrors awaiting my return to the dream-beach. Maybe I could fashion a ward from the outside dried grass - or even wear my helmet to sleep.
Or, perhaps, I would never sleep again.
It still did not feel real. Out of all places and times, our paths had crossed once more - by no magical means. It’s not as though I had forgotten Lumo by any means, but I had surrendered to the possibility that I would never see him again. Yet there he was, standing before me, just when I had all but given up. Not as some hero, rescuing me from the perils of war, but as a gentle spark - reminder of hope and futures possible once more.
As if perceiving my thoughts, there was a knock on my door.
“May I come in?” asked Lumo.
I straightened myself, sitting upwards.
“Yes.”
He opened the door slowly, peeking his golden mask inside.
“Hiding from me already?” he smiled.
“I… just come in,” I sighed.
He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it, before staring at me for a moment in silence.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I’d prefer to not leave you alone… if you’ll oblige me,” he said, voice softer than I expected.
I stared at him, feeling my face grow hot, unsure of what to say.
“You can keep sleeping… I’m sorry if I woke you up. I’ll find a book to read or something,” he smiled.
“That’s… fine,” I stuttered.
I watched as he stepped forward, crouching as he scanned the small shelf underneath the nightstand. There were a few well-worn books there, seemingly left from Barros’ guests past. From between the shut curtains, a line of light fell upon his mask, sending tiny sparkles throughout the dark and dusty room.
“Lumo - you don’t have to wear your mask if you don’t want,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment, crouching as he pulled a faded book off the shelf, plowing off a plume of dust from its top pages.
“I think I’d like to keep on for a bit longer, if you don’t mind,” he said slowly, not looking at me.
“Why… It’s not as though I haven’t seen you before,” I laughed.
I watched as he slowly fingered through the pages, still not looking up at me.
“I’m not ready to face the possibility of you not seeing my face when I take it off. Perhaps that makes me selfish, but I’ve been through far too much since our last meeting to take that extra dagger of watching you lie to me to spare my feelings,” he muttered quickly. “So, if you could spare my cowardice for the moment, I’d like us to enjoy one another’s company before we talk of masks.”
I watched him, dumbfounded as he continued his perhaps too diligent assessment of the book in his hands, still not looking up at me. I don’t believe I’d ever seen him so nervous.
“Lumo - who else would I see?” I scoffed.
“Although you were kind enough to share a majority of your memories since our last encounter, it’s not as though I could read your every thought - as much as I would want to. While I was locked away, your life had to continue. And in that time, your feelings towards me may have changed quite a bit - I understand that - I…” he trailed off.
With a sigh, he finally turned to me, jaw tight and lips pressed in focus.
“I’d like to earn my face once more, if you’ll allow me,” he said softly.
I let out a nervous laugh, despite my best efforts. I was grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would hide my reddening face, heating further with every quickening heartbeat. I slowly raised the bedsheet to cover my mouth, hiding the maddening smile that refused to leave my face.
He only smiled, watching, waiting I suppose for some sort of response from me.
“Gods - you can’t say things like that,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Too much?” he smiled, looking back down at his book. “Doesn’t make it less true.”
I watched him as he sat, long legs bent to a kneel, looking far too tall for the small room’s narrow floor. A tiny dark curl peeked its way from under his mask beside his ear, only for him to tuck it once more into place.
“Lumo… when you look in a mirror - what do you see?” I asked.
“Gaelenod, obviously,” he said flatly, turning another page. “I just get lost in those big black eyes.”
I kicked him with my foot.
“I’m serious.”
He paused, once more turning up towards me.
“Who do you think I see, Mira?” he asked flatly.
“Well… do you see yourself? Or anything?” I frowned, “Perhaps an approximation of what you think you look like?”
He shook his head, looking away once more.
“Oh - I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something - speaking of mirrors. When you saw… or were shown, rather… the ceremony when you were asleep in the catacombs,” he said suddenly, changing the subject. “I don’t… I don’t think that was her. I don’t think it was Herculea who wanted you to see that.”
He stood, crossing his arms in thought.
“As powerful as she is, she would need to be actively doing the spell to dreamwalk. It takes concentration, it’s an ancient, chanting spell… In your dream - she didn’t even seem to know that you were watching,” said Lumo, shaking his head.
“Then who? Who else would care enough to show me?”
“That’s what’s bothering me. As important as you are to me - and as much as I wouldn’t put it past Herculea to want to hurt you - I’m not sure who else would put forth such an effort to show you that,” he sighed. “Let alone someone powerful enough to get through the effects of the anasilan. I didn’t think to look at the time - but did you see anyone familiar in the crowd? Anyone saying a spell?”
“No… But most were wearing veils or had their faces hidden. I… I don’t know. Could Myrot have done it? He would have been there, right?”
“Maybe - though I’m not sure how it would benefit him,” said Lumo, now sitting at the edge of the bed. He reached, grabbing one of the books off the ground and opening it once more. “I’ll figure it out.”
He turned to me once more, lost in thought before he sighed once more.
“Here I am, keeping you up. Please - rest. The others will be back soon.”
“I… You’ll be there - right?”
“Where?”
“The crow. On the beach,” I muttered, suddenly embarrassed of my own words.
He turned slowly.
“The crow?” he asked, frowning. “Are you talking about that last dream you had? With the feather?”
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“My… crow friend,” I muttered, thoughts racing.
“I… as much as I wish I could dreamwalk - that was not me, Mira,” he let out a little laugh, “But if I see you stir in your sleep, I will be sure to wake you.”
All this time - a figment of my imagination. I almost wished I hadn’t mentioned it. I felt my stomach turn as I threw my head back to my pillow in defeat. Of course I was merely talking to myself. Yet every little reaction - turn of its little crow head - seemingly acknowledging my every word, the little beak frantically pecking at the mirror. Perhaps it was only a piece of my magic trying to protect me. Perhaps it was nothing.
Unbelievable.
I awoke to the sound of Cylie and Aixel bickering, rather loudly, downstairs. I sat us to see Lumo still there at the edge of the bed, new book between his hands. The room had darkened further, sliver of light between the heavy curtains dimming, with Lumo using a tiny magicked lamp to illuminate his pages.
He looked up, seeing me stir.
“Would you like me to tell them to quiet down?” he smiled.
“No… no,” I grumbled, voice raspy with sleep, “I should get up.”
Lumo nodded, jumping up and closing the door behind him lightly.
By the time I dressed and made it down the boarding house’s crooked stairs, the pair’s argument had turned to angry stares from across the table, with Cylie once more sharpening her daggers. Barros had also returned, crouched over a pot atop the woodstove, Lumo watching intently beside him.
Cylie brightened when she saw me, yet continued to sharpen her daggers.
“Ah, Mira - got some rest, did ya? Lucky - I tried to sleep but nerves got the best of me. Also - remind me to never take this one hunting with me again,” she chimed.
Aixel groaned from across the table.
“Don’t you two start again,” grumbled Barros. “You’ll both be sleeping outside.”
“Good,” beamed Cylie, “Bug-breath prefers to sleep out there”
Aixel opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself, scooting away from the table and standing.
“Oh - leaving already?” she cooed.
Aixel gave a wide, menacing smile as he left swiftly out of the back door, eyes wide and maddened as he disappeared into the evening.
“Good - more food for me,” said Cylie quietly.
“Lover’s quarrel?” mused Lumo from the kitchen.
Cylie let out a laugh, forced and loud as she stabbed a dagger into the well-knotted table.
“You must be new here, goldy,” she grimaced. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out.”
“Ah, Mira once offered to do that for me. Quite romantic, really,” smiled Lumo, walking to the small dining area holding two steaming bowls. He set one in front of me, the other in front of the equally steaming Cylie.
“Oh, did she now?” said Cylie, eyes wide, “She can certainly be a wild one.”
Barros followed, bowl in hand, and sat next to Cylie, face wrought with a familiar tired annoyance that often accompanied the two.
Cylie looked up from her spoon, blowing it cold.
“Not hungry?” she asked Lumo, now sat beside me, “The meat’s fresh.”
Lumo shook his head.
“Not hungry, thank you.”
I managed to eat a couple bites, only a bit of my appetite having returned since I took Lumo’s magic so long ago.
“So why do you wear that thing? Kinda defeats the point if you’re trying to keep a low profile,” Cylie asked between bites, “I mean - it’s pretty easy to spot if you’re trying to hide from Herculea.”
I looked to Lumo, curious of his answer.
“Ah, my face is cursed. A rather ugly thing, really. The mask is the only thing that helps,” he said, shaking his head with exaggerated sadness.
Cylie looked at me, eyebrows raised, before she once more returned to her meal.
“Wow, Mira. You really do have a big heart,” she said in a low mutter.
The table shifted slightly as Barros kicked her under the table.
She turned wide-eyed toward our host, mouth open in exaggerated shock.
“What?” she mouthed.
“He is our guest,” Barros seethed.
“Now, now,” laughed Lumo, clearly amused, “It’s true - she does have a big heart.”
“Sorry - didn’t mean to offend, Prince-King Lumo, sire,” said Cylie, wiping her face with her sleeve.
There was another kick under the table.
“Just Lumo is fine, thank you,” said Lumo, biting his lip so as to not laugh again.
“Please excuse her,” said Barros, straightening.
“Ah, not a problem at all,” smiled Lumo.
There was a moment of spoons hitting clay bowls and chewing before Barros spoke again.
“So - I’ve spent the day talking with and sending word to the other Barrens camps regarding your little trick on the battlefield last evening. They’ve already started to look into how it can be duplicated - though it would take some time to gather enough of the proper vessel to transport even one suit of armor… let alone an entire army,” said Barros, crossing his arms.
“Can’t we just use the powders?” asked Cylie, mouth full of food.
“How so?” asked Lumo, curious.
“If we’re just tryin’ to get them back to Herculea - why not use the Solia powders? They use them - why can’t we?”
Barros was quiet for a moment, considering her words.
“I’m not sure the fae would like us procuring enough of the Solia powders to transport an entire army,” he sighed. “Tensions are already high and we don’t need to make them an enemy.”
“I mean - I’m sure they’ll understand if it keeps the red and green ones out of their home. We’ve even got a Sylien to help us out when we were fighting for the underground. They’re sick of them too,” said Cylie.
“Sick enough to provide us with the powdered bones of their kin? How would that make us any better than Herculea?” retorted Barros. “There has to be another way.”
“The crane feathers?” I offered.
Lumo shook his head.
“That only works since they’re covered in the powders before the ceremony.”
My mind raced. What else, other than the Solia powders, could be used?
There was a creak, and the back door opened to reveal a now calmed Aixel. I watched as he scooped a cup of the stew with the remaining bowl, before putting it immediately to his face. He kicked the door closed with his heel, remaining quiet.
“I still think we should at least ask the fae before we completely write off that option,” said Cylie, scooting away from the table, “They’re full of surprises.”
“Ask them what?” chimed Aixel from the stovetop.
“To copy Lumo’s trick - we need a whole lot of the Solia powders,” said Cylie.
Aixel was quiet for a moment, lips pressed in thought.
“Why not ask the vampires?” said Aixel as he took another drink of his stew. “They’ve probably got more powder than the whole of Lucerna. Plus they would jump at the chance to ruin Herculea’s day.”
Cylie’s mouth fell open.
“You really want to go to the Boglands?”
I turned to Lumo, trying to hide my terror at the suggestion, only to see a wide smile across his face.
“It’s pretty close to the Academy - but I could think of no better ally,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“It certainly is an interesting thought,” mused Barros. “They don’t take kindly to visitors though. There’s a reason the chimera were banished and the vampire remain.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Cylie, face in exaggerated disgust, “I vote we send Aixel by himself.”
“They’re more apt to listen to those of a more feminine persuasion,” chimed Lumo, “As charming as Aixel may be.”
“Well - If we are going to try this, I expect you would need to go, Lumo. You have more connections in the midlands than any of us here. But it has to be a small party if we want to make it past the north border without alerting Camp Ilaross,” said Barros. “I’d worry even taking horses past them, especially after last night. They’ll be on high alert.”
“Care to join me, Mira - on a holiday through the fogged plains?” said Lumo, turning to me, “I daresay you would receive their invitation before I.”
“You plan on using her as bait, then?” scoffed Cylie.
“No, not bait. Never,” protested Lumo. “But they would not let us in without… suitable company.”
“I’d take Aixel too - having a void mage will make up for your lack of numbers,” said Barros, scratching his chin.
“Plus they don’t like the taste,” grinned Aixel between bites, “So we have Lumo, me, and Mira for bait. Sounds like a plan.”
“Do I get a say in this?” I coughed.
Lumo shook his head.
“If you think I’m going to leave without you, you’re mistaken,” said Lumo, suddenly serious.
Cylie stood, stretching.
“I’ll start packing then, we’ll leave tomorrow,” she yawned, grabbing the empty bowls off the table.
“We?” scoffed Aixel, dodging her as she passed.
“You really think I’m going to leave her with you two? To see vampires? No, not happening. I’m coming with,” she said flatly.
Barros rose, wiping his hands against each other.
“That’s settled then. To the Boglands you go. I for one shall enjoy the quiet,” he groaned to himself, “I will alert the rest of command and send crane where needed. We’ll help as much as we can when it comes to supplies. I’d leave before Milea finds out - she’d kill me if she knew where I was sending you off to.”
I shook my head, still in a state of disbelief.
To knowingly walk into the Boglands… it may be safer to jump off the Barrens cliffside into the sea.
Vampires, the masculine counterpart to bogfae ruled over the Boglands for longer than the earliest recorded age. Father had told stories of encountering them during his studies at the Selphena Academy, stalking and hiding behind the roaming fog of the plains. One had pretended to be among their ranks, stealing and wearing the golden armor of one of their recent feasts. He lured their group away and south, until they were surrounded and before the vampire’s bewitched appearance faded, they had taken half the party - to feast upon or use for their games, Father only narrowly escaping.
His group, still in training, had patrolled far too south, losing their way in the fog. The Academy, although hosting the most powerful knights in all of Lucerna, kept clear of the Boglands in an unspoken truce since the beginning of its founding at the end of the 2nd Age.
Yet here we were, venturing towards the cursed land by choice.
I don’t believe I would find it easy to sleep again.