“Mira?”
Lumo?
There was nothing but darkness, but I knew that voice well.
“Am I dead?”
“Would you like to be dead?” asked Lumo’s voice in the same curious candor.
“Not… Particularly.”
I reached through the dark, feeling nothing, seeing nothing.
“Where am I? How are you here?” I asked, voice echoing in the black.
“Here is nowhere. And I’m not here. Not really, as much as I would like to be.”
“So I’ve lost it? Is this all in my head?”
“No, that’s not it either.”
“Even in my head you don’t give me any real answers,” I sighed.
From the infinite darkness, Lumo’s voice then began to laugh.
“You see, there’s a part of me here. A part of my magic. A gift of sorts to this great beast we both reside in.”
“A gift? Where are you? Can I see you?”
I stretched out my hands, grasping at the source of the voice, still feeling nothing.
“Alas, no. I’m afraid not. There is no light here. But you can feel me.”
Suddenly, two hands grasped mine, and I was slowly guided forward, pulled into a familiar warm chest as Lumo’s form wrapped around me. My breath caught in my lungs at the sudden closeness, and I longed for even a sliver of light to pierce through the strange empty black space. But of all the senses that had been seemingly stolen from me, I was most grateful for touch.
“If you’d like, we can stay like this forever. But I’m sure the rest of me might have a problem with that,” he whispered, and his warm breath brushed my ear.
The words caught in my throat, and I didn’t seem to realize just how exhausted I was until that moment. The last time I saw him seemed so long ago. I let my head rest against his form, soaking it in. Whether magic illusion or temporary madness, it felt so real.
“Many years ago, when I was very young, I encountered this great beast,” he whispered softly, “And he too captured me inside its great belly. Albeit they weren’t quite so large when our paths crossed.”
I felt Lumo’s hands then gently begin to run over the back of my head, combing through my hair, and a shiver trickled down my spine.
“You see, where you see black, others would see the faces of those whose blood they have spilled. And although I sense you have taken magic, your blade has not taken life on these fields, thankfully,” he continued. “This beast was once an ancient guardian, but through ages of blood and battle, it contorted into the form you saw. The blood had awoken it from its slumber.”
“The arms… The knights I saw… They were all from the first age.”
“Yes. All fell in battle on these very fields,” he sighed.
I let a moment pass, trying to enjoy the warmth, but my mind continued to race.
“Then how do I get out of here? Can I offer my magic as well?”
I felt Lumo chuckle.
“Already so eager to leave me?”
“I…” I stammered.
“I’m teasing,” he whispered, then slowly pulled away from me, before placing two warm hands on the sides of my face.
I reached to put my hands on his wrists, but I felt my left fingers struggling to bend, still weak even in the strange dark nothingness. He seemed to notice my hesitation and quickly grabbed my left hand, pulling it upwards towards where his face would be.
“What happened?” he asked, voice soft.
“It’s… from void magic.”
There was an odd silence, and the Lumo form became very still.
“I… I don’t think the rest of me will be very happy about this,” he finally spoke. He then pulled the hand to the warmth of his chest, and I felt a ripple of warmth fill my body. I could almost feel his heart beat.
We stayed like this, in the silence, for a long moment.
“I think I may know another way for you to escape, but you’ll have to trust me,” he said softly.
“What is it?”
“Take me. Take my magic.”
I shook my head.
“Absolutely not.”
I then felt as he pulled my hand from his chest to the side of his face. He was smiling.
“Take it. I’m partially what’s kept it alive for so long without cycling. I’ve gathered that it’s an ancient type of fae.”
“Like the anasilan?”
“Ah, so you may have already guessed. This creature is a long distant relative, of the same making, although ancient and far more powerful. And I believe my magic is the cause.
“By removing me, you’ll force the creature to cycle, and its body will finally die, removing anything left living from its depths. And although it may seem strange, you are very much alive right now, though barely.”
“What do you mean barely?”
I felt as he lowered my hand from his chest and once again pulled me closer, pressing the side of my face to his collarbone.
“That last bit of magic you took, as well as my limited protection in here, are sheltering your body at the moment,” he said, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I… have a question.”
“Yes?”
“Where is the rest of you? Are you safe? Can you tell him where I am?” I stuttered.
The Lumo illusion’s weight shifted, as if considering my words. He then cleared his throat.
“You see, this piece of me has been residing in this body for far too long, and I can no longer communicate with the rest of my being. I can only see and experience what the rest of me has, but the Lumo you know has long since blocked me from his memory, understandably so.
“That said, the rest of me is fine.”
I felt him swallow. He wasn’t telling me everything.
“Fine?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He was silent for a moment, then shifted his weight again.
“He’s… I’ve been better,” he sighed, defeated. “But that’s not important. Right now, we have to get you out of here, lest you become just another memory in this wretched thing. I can only protect your body for so long.”
“Can you not tell me anything? Are you still locked away in the tower? What of Herculea?”
“Ah, don’t worry about such things. I will figure everything out, I promise,” he said, before pulling away.
He then gently placed my hands on the side of his face, and I was surprised to find it without his mask. I let my thumb trace over his features, brow, nose lips, before he gently stopped me. My hands remained on his face as his body lowered, kneeling now before me.
“It’s time, Mira,” he soothed.
I shook my head.
“This doesn’t seem right. I… I don’t want you to go,” I whispered, feeling a familiar heaviness gather in the back of my throat.
I felt the corners of his mouth move into a smile.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he soothed, “I am just a piece, a reflection, a tiny sliver of the real thing. I have been left in this darkness for far too long, removed in a desperate need to escape and survive. My existence here is a fracture, filled with nightmares and ghosts, and guilt, and pain of every soldier swallowed.”
There was another pause, and the black room was left only with the sounds of our breathing.
“And if I were to die, sweet Mira, I would want it to be by your hands.”
A ripple of pain shot through me at his words, and though I tried to pull away, his grip held firm to the side of his face.
“I refuse to let your body be devoured by this beast, and we are running out of time. You need to do it, Mira. Please,” said Lumo, whose calm voice now became strained and desperate.
I steadied my breath.
There was so much more I wanted to ask, to tell. I wanted to pull him off the ground and figure out a way for us to both leave together.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
And so I did.
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