“Ouch!”
“Oh, come now, this is nothing,” laughed Lumo.
He was packing in blackened forest mud into the wound on my palm, sending stinging pain at every touch.
We had made it back outside of the gates of Castle Locus. When we first walked out of the heavy castle door, I was shocked to see that most of the gloomy haze that once greeted us had subsided. Instead, we were met with a slight shiver of night, and the once deafening screams of locusts were replaced with the calming cricket violins and croaking of toads.
It took some convincing, but I was now wearing the famed ancient armor of Halmore. Although it felt incredibly heavy when I first tried to lift it, the magicked plates became light, comfortable even once we had them properly fastened. Each separate piece enveloped me, as if the armor was made for me - a sign of a well-crafted magic armor. The armor of Halmore had its own deep lore, aside from the Cursed Queen. It was worn by knights as early as the first Era. It felt almost wrong to wear it.
I was no queen, knight, nor high lord of any kingdom.
“Ow!”
“Sorry! That’s it though. No more,” reassured Lumo.
I watched as he tore a thin strip of fabric from the bottom of his cloak, then wrapped it around my aching palm, tying it tight.
We were sitting just off the stone path, under the still blackened tree trunks with the castle gates at our back. Much to my disappointment, Nim was nowhere to be found. As much as I wanted to look for her, Lumo protested. He did not know these forests well - and to go too far off the path could mean trouble.
“She’ll find us, I’m sure,” he smiled.
“Lumo - how old are you?” I asked.
“Oh - I,” Lumo started, seemingly surprised at my abruptness. “How old do you think I am?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, pulling my bandaged hand away from him.
“Always with the guessing games,” I sighed.
Lumo crossed his arms and leaned back, “I can’t help it, I like to watch you think.”
“You like to watch me suffer.”
Lumo shook his head and sighed. “It was my eighteenth name day yesterday.”
“What?”
Lumo shrugged and leaned further back against the tree trunk where he sat, looking upwards towards the night sky. I studied him with a newfound curiosity. His long limbs, his demeanor, everything about him seemed much more mature than someone only a bit older than me. But I suppose that comes with a life where you are left to raise yourself.
“I don’t forgive you,” I said, crossing my arms.
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me that it was your name day, yesterday. I don’t forgive you,” I frowned.
“Sorry, I forgot, I suppose… Until you just mentioned it,” shrugged Lumo again. “I’ve never really celebrated any of my name days.”
“Well that’s an absolute tragedy, Lumo. I do not accept that one bit.”
I searched starting from the ground and working my way upwards for anything I could give as a gift, until I found a branch high in the tree, young enough from the trunk to still be malleable. I sat back down on the forest floor beside him. I then meticulously fashioned a ward, carefully using the techniques he had shown me only a few nights before.
When finished, I braided another long strand of ivy, tying it at the end, before placing it around Lumo’s neck with pride.
“There, happy belated name day, Lumo,” I smiled.
But Lumo only stared back at me, unsmiling and serious, with such an intensity that I could almost feel it behind his mask. I cleared my throat and sat back, unsure if I had done something wrong.
“Sorry - I mean, if you don’t like it - I can-” I started to stammer, filling in the awkward silence.
“No,” said Lumo suddenly, “It’s perfect.”
He then reached his hands out, grabbing mine in his, gently, holding them in his lap. He looked down at them, golden mask twinkling. It was strange to see him so serious.
Suddenly, there was a noise behind us, rustling through the forest floor debris and breaking through the moment. We both looked to see a shadow, tall and slow between the few spots of moonlight between the trees, making its way towards us.
“Nim!” I said, eagerly standing and brushing the debris off my armor.
But as Lumo stood next to me, he put a hand out in front of me, silently telling me to take caution. He then made a slow step in front of me.
It was Nim, yes. But she was not alone.
Beside her was a tall, warrior of a man, even a head taller than Lumo. He was leading her reigns, pulling her towards us slowly through the dark. I strained my eyes to see that he was wearing a silver mask, designed much like Lumo’s, as it sparkled in the dim light.
I waited for Lumo’s queue, cautious. There are only so many reasons that someone would wear a mask - most of which lead back to the Guides.
“Fine horse you have here, found her wandering all by herself,” the man grunted through gravelly voice.
I watched as Lumo straightened, still silent.
“She wouldn’t have even made me think twice, until I found this,” the man said.
He then threw something on the ground in front of Lumo, causing me to jump. I peered around him to see the woven ward he had fashioned her, lying at Lumo’s feet.
“You think I couldn’t recognize your style, brother? I mean - I taught you how to make them,” the warrior-man laughed dryly. “I suppose it was lucky though, finding your horse.”
Brother?
“And hello there, sweet thing,” the tall man teased, leaning to the side and peering around Lumo at me, “What pretty armor you have.”
I watched as Lumo then placed his hand on the hilt of the sword, tightly curling his fingers around the handle.
“Why are you wearing your mask?” the man laughed, “She’s still following you around without seeing your face? That’s impressive, dear brother.”
The man then gave a sly smile, white teeth sparkling against his tanned skin brightly in the dim light of the moon.
“You must be dying of curiosity… Here, let me show you what you’re missing -”
But just as the man began to reach for his silver mask, Lumo was at his throat, blink-speed, golden sword blade at the man’s thick neck.
“Don’t you dare,” Lumo seethed.
“Why, scared she might like what she sees?” he teased.
I watched as Lumo stepped even closer to the man, tightening his grip.
But the strange man only smiled, palms forward in surrender.
“Now, now… I was only teasing,” he smiled.
“Siegfried -”
“Ah,” he interrupted, “It’s King Siegfried now, brother. You missed my wedding yesterday. It was a beautiful affair, really lovely.”
Lumo lowered his blade back to his side, taking a step back.
“Come now, brother. You can’t run forever. I’m sure your little adventure has been fun, but it’s time to go home,” Siegfried said, taking a slow step forward. “Herculea may be upset now, but I’m sure she will forgive you -”
“No,” spat Lumo. “You may be fine with bowing to them, playing the perfect role, but I refuse to… I did not choose her -”
“Oh save me the sob story, Lumo. You’ve told me a million times. You should be grateful - without Herculea, you wouldn’t even exist. Come now, let’s go.”
Siegfried then stepped forward again, hand now tight around Lumo’s wrist, turning it back and away from the blade. Lumo shook him off, pulling his hand away and taking another step back, still shielding me away behind him.
“Come now, you can even bring your little friend - kidding, she has to come too. But maybe Herculea will spare her if you’re lucky,” he laughed darkly.
“Leave her out of this,” Lumo seethed.
“What do you mean, ‘Leave her out of this’?” Siegfried cackled. “Gods, I’m bored of this already. All this back and forth. I mean really, Lumo. Who are you trying to fool?”
I then watched as the man began to riffle through a small bag tied to his belt, pulling something small out into his hand. As much as I tried, it was far too dark to see.
But Lumo seemed to understand as he suddenly turned around his shoulder at me.
“Run!” he shouted.
But before I could comprehend, I watched as Siegfried blew a fine powder from his palm onto us both, billowing in slow curving dust-clouds from behind Lumo.
Everything went black.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
