Work Text:
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ 1. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The darkness had long cascaded over the raging waters, for the stormy clouds covered the sky from morn to night, hiding the pale moon’s chiseled plate, like how a lover hides their muse from the world’s filth.
The dilapidated vessels of the fatui were fighting against the sea - they thought themselves to be all knowing, never even crossing their mind that the sea is not a force they can make to behave. They didn't ask for help, so they passed by the lighthouse without stopping.
Though it was probably for the better. A lightning crashed into an old grave, while the seawater crashed into the cliffs with a threatening roar. The small island was under an attack from nature, but the sole living inhabitant of it was sitting idly in the lighthouse’s shelter.
Kyryll Chudomirovich was sitting on an old chair and waiting for the storm to pass. His eyes’ incandescent glint was the sole light source in the room, as he didn't need candles to see. His eyes trailed over the empty room. Besides the tables, the chair, and the fireplace, which he only set up if he had a guest, so they won't freeze to death, were the only furnishings that he had.
By a noble’s standards, it was by no means even a house, dare to say home. But he had no time to pay for expensive furniture, or even to bother with giving in to a foppish guise. But whenever he saw an old trinket on his journey, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on it for a moment way too long, before tearing his vision away. That time was long gone…
The rain knocked on the window, like an army marching into war. A lightning strike struck close to the lighthouse, illuminating the trees and graves. The ghosts’ sacred figure trembled, and with a loud crash, the lamp outside fell off.
Kyryll Chudomirovich limbered up and returned the ratnik-lamp to his belt. This is how he opened the door.
The rain was almost horizontal, and the howling wind wet his thick clothes.
Yes, the lamp has shattered into a million pieces, and the oil from it dissolved on the watery stone. The lighthouse’s lamp enlightened it for a moment, and it shone with a rainbowy light and dripped away into a crack. Following its path, it led to a tin box, stuck between two rocks.
A ghost floated beside him. It looked sad, like it was the reason why the old lamp broke, but it perked up when it noticed the tin box.
Kyryll Chudomirovich bent down and picked up the box. With a powerful movement, he cleared it from the pebbles and dirt.
The box opened with a barely audible clank. Staring into it, he saw nothing, but then…
A sharp glint.
Gold? No, it's less refined in glow. He picked it up and raised it to the lighthouse’s ever-changing glow - it was steel, sturdy and without a scratch.
Under his fingers, he felt valleys and mountains - an engraving for sure.
‘Civilian Commendation For Flins, the Lightkeeper, and his squadron for their efforts in dispelling the Abyss’
He stood in a moment of silence, despite the storm’s maddened yells. Humans are such an entertaining species. Dare he say that he lives in the graveyard, and he is an oddball, but if they remember the death of their kin with a cheap metal, then it's a remembrance.
He had a stronger sense of justness, and he pledged in the name of the dead that he would not touch this forsaken medal ever again.
His boots squeaking from the water, as he throttled back, inelegantly, and threw the box on an empty shelf.
The ghost from before slid behind him into the room and posted next to the shelf, expecting the owner of the medal to do something with it.
Time, the root of change, has come and gone, but he hasn't touched that medal ever again. Yet, newer antiques, trinkets, and jewelry were put atop it, slowly filling the shelves. Thousands of memories piled against that one, and so on.
And for the townsfolk, Kyryll Chudomirovich simply got called Flins. For them, the nobility was of no importance, and thus, slowly, he got used to it.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ 2. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The Frostmoon Enclave’s statue was shining under the fake moon’s gaze, and Lauma’s horns also glimmered akin.
Her prayers grew quieter by day, and by now it was nothing but a calm whisper, like the soft breeze that shook the white flowers in the field of Kuutar. The animals all started to feel his doubt, but they stood firmly by her side, as she helped them more times than they could remember. This moment was no different.
First, it was a doe galloping to her, warning her that the Wild Hunt had been getting closer to the village.
She finished her prayer and bowed before Kuutar - and since the people weren't watching - she bowed not to the direction where she was meant to be, but in the direction where her heart, which pumped with her ancient blood, dictated her.
Next, it was the stag that warned her.
“Then, I suppose this time I will personally visit the site, so that you can calm down,” She petted the enormous animal, and her fingers deepened in its fur. “To the South?”
The animal bowed down and, in its incomprehensible language, told Lauma that the Wild Hunt was on the shores.
The shore foamed whitely, but didn't move the dark crystals of the ground.
Her heels deepened into the sand as she raised her catalyst in her hand.
The Wild Hunt was raging tirelessly, and without any humans to terrorize, they were attacking the animals. She could feel a pit forming in her stomach, the same way whenever she lied during seances.
How could they hurt the most innocent beings of all?
Without a second thought, she charged in, activating her vision, but then, out of nowhere, a blue flame encased the entire scenery.
It was electrifying, and Lauma felt her hair rise from the shock. A scream erupted from behind the blue wall of flame and thunder. She stood there bewildered.
She felt a foreign power which came from both the moon and from something faraway, and inhuman. She didn't let her guard down and kept her weapon in her hands. She just hoped that the animals wouldn't get hurt in the process.
The flames slowly dispersed, and the Wild Hunt was gone too. What was left behind was a man in dull clothes of the Lightkeepers. His hair, just as blue as the flames, fell on his back.
Lauma took a step back, but her heels dipped into the sand. She couldn't help but fall over.
The Lightkeeper noticed her and courteously reached out to her to help her up.
“Excuse my rashness for startling you. Before I commenced this purge, I noticed no healthy soul lingering in the far and wide.”
She raised her brows in distress.
Lauma saw him before; he was Flins, somehow a master of cards, and oddly well-spoken. But she felt the power emitting from the blue-flamed lamp, swaying from his belt, and she heard the animals warn her about him.
“Does get frightened over anything, what happened just know was the sand acting against my will.” She said calmly, but still jadedly. She didn't take his gloved hand, and stood up - this was her fault for coming in clothes like this out to the shores. “Next time, look twice, and try to gaze on the animals too. They might not speak to you, but they, too, have a soul, sometimes greater than those with verbose prose.”
Flins dim eyes lingered away from Lauma, and he dusted himself down.
Lauma looked around. The deer that had been attacked by the Abyss just before was gone, but it wasn't dead. She will search for it and check for any injuries.
She saw the hole that her heels left behind, and she noticed a silvery glint in the sands. Reaching down, she dug it out - a coin, born in the ancient era.
Flins followed her, and when he noticed the coin in her hands, he tilted his head sideways. “That's a coin from Hyperborea. By my guess, those of the Wild Hunt were once the ancestors of you…”
“Or they just found it shining and kept it. One can't know what remains of the people’s soul once they pass to the other world.” She held the coin out for Flins, who hesitantly took it. “This is yours for taking care of the Abyss. If you come across the Enclave, remember to give you from the daily harvest.”
Flins stood in silence. He didn't understand why Lauma was so adversary. Anyhow, he put the coin in his pocket (he will place it on the top shelf, where he kept his Hyperborean relics), and made sure to remember that he had an ally from the Frostmoon Enclave.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ 3. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The ground ran way too fast under Jahoda’s shoes, but the ghosts were still too close to her.
Then all of a sudden, something stopped her from going further - she was standing on the edge of a cliff.
Her shoulders shook as she was out of breath, and her heart was beating heavily.
Turning around, she saw that all the ghosts were gone.
“What? I was sure that… no, it can't be, I saw it myself!” She talked to herself.
Jahoda was sent here by Nefer, who was cunningly saying that it was a ‘job that is measly but bad to be done’. Little did she know it included being dispatched to a ghost-inhabited island.
She noticed the lighthouse before, but she wanted to not conversing with anyone. Her job included privacy, alright? She definitely didn't want to run away…
But now she was standing at the lighthouse's door. She knocked on it twice and waited.
‘If it doesn't open up while I count to five, I leave this place.’
One.
Two.
Three. (If only she wouldn't be so lost.)
Four. (She should go!)
“How can I help you?” The door opened, and a ratnik with blue hair emerged. She had seen him before in Nasha Town, she believed.
“I’m lost and I would like to-to ask for help.” She muttered, pulling herself together.
“I see. And where are you from? For which direction should I send you?” He asked politely.
Jahoda bit into her lips. Should he tell him or not? Well, he had probably seen her before doing commissions for Nefer, so lying was of no use. “The Curatorium of Secrets.”
He blinked a few times at her, then at the distance, like he could see Nasha Town. “I’ll help you out. I believe that with a boat it's the fastest and cheapest.”
Jahoda wanted to put down his offer when he got in the boat. She wanted to stop him when they arrived at Nasha Town. She wanted to stop him at the Curatorium of Secrets.
Did he listen to her at once? No. It was more like he himself wanted to go to Nefer.
Jahoda knocked on Nefer’s door, already worried about breaking the ‘privacy of our clients is the most important’ rule.
However, when Nefer opened the door, she only asked Jahoda to get some tea.
“Now then, mister Flins,” She started speaking smugly, and crossed her legs as she sat down. “I believe this is what you are here for.” She picked up a coin that was brought into the Curatorium a couple of days before. She threw it towards Flins, who nonchalantly caught it.
It was an old coin released in the era of the Belyi Star - it showcased the figure of Kyryll, the snowland fae.
“The payment is done, as per said,” Nefer stated sourly. “And I would prefer if you’d not commission us once again.” She dipped her tongue into the tea, but it was too hot. She put it down. An eerily nice smile appeared on her face. “Thank you for choosing us now~”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ 4. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Aino was a genius.
That she believed. No, everyone believed in it.
That's why she is not lost, and she definitely will get back on track in a few minutes, despite never having seen any site similar to this.
She had some Krumkakes in her bag, but still, she was getting hungry and thirsty.
She had read books about the dangers of microbes that lurk in the waters, and that's why she refused to drink from it.
Despite everything, it was her fault - she wanted to find her lost robot without Ineffa’s help, and now she was all lost. At least not without achievements, she thought, and held the core of something that she didn't know yet. She will be certain to ask Ineffa or Jahoda… she might as well ask Nefer, even though she had been prohibited from doing so.
She was a genius, and she wasn't scared. Especially now that the sun had set, and the forest had turned dark. Every tree was like a monster, and the humpy trail made her fall over more often than she would have liked. Her knees were bleeding, and she felt the urge to cry.
The forest had cleaned up, and before her was a pristine lake, with the moon reflecting in it.
Aino couldn't help it, but lunged towards the lake and slurped the water. It certainly tasted very earthly, and it wasn't clean, but she was too thirsty to even think about it.
Once she finished, she sat on her heels and let the tears run down Aino’s cheeks.
Ineffa will find her. Ineffa always finds her; she tried to reassure herself, to no avail.
Suddenly, she noticed a blue light on by the lake. It was like a star, but that couldn't be.
Shakily, Aino stood up and approached the blue light. It was a lamp floating alone. It was eery, and Aino’s heart fluttered heavily against her rib, as she poked it.
Her face went through every possible expression of fright. She jumped probably a meter, and spurted away as fast as she could - because a person, yes, a living person, appeared from the lamp.
On every moon, every archon, every rule of Kirchoff, please save her!
Aino felt a loud thug on her clothes, and she was lifted up - under her, the lake was glimmering.
Her heart stopped.
She turned her neck back and saw the man from before, towering above her, like the devil. His eyes shone otherworldly over his crooked nose.
“Excuse my ribald interruption, but I wish not to fall into the water.” He said. His voice was surprisingly friendly and not menacing, despite the dark demeanor. Aino was frozen with fear. Ineffa will find her, Ineffa will save her… “On the other hand, I can see some injury to you. May I ask what made you wander alone?”
Aino was out of breath, and she just stared at him without an inch of her body moving.
The man sighed and put her back on solid ground. “I may have startled you… I do not wish any harm to you. In any case, you can find me at Final Night Cemetery, but you may know me as a ratnik. Many call me Flins, but that's only my surname. May I inquire about your name, dear lady?”
Aino blinked slowly. Somehow, the man’s words made zero sense. “I’m Aino, and if you hurt me, you’ll hear from Ineffa!”
The man dusted himself down and shook his head. “I will not cause you any harm, and… I’m offering my help to you, so on your journey, you’ll not experience any mistreatment. With this offer, I can only hope that we’ll be on the same terms, and we can disregard the previous mishap.” He spun the words so clearly, like the moonlight. He waited for Aino’s answer eagerly.
She pouted, and again tears ran down her face. “I got lost,” She cried out. “And I don't know the way back…”
“Ah, I see. No wonder, even I get lost sometimes.” He said, noticing the small piece of metal that Aino was still clenching in her fist.
“Really?”
“Yes, and I know a lot of lost souls. Miss Aino, for how long had you been in the forest? I’m worried that you might be hungry or tired…”
Aino smiled softly and picked out the Krumkakes she had with her from her pockets. “I’m fine. Do you want some?”
Flins shook his head elegantly. “I’m very thankful for your invitation, but I already had enough meals today. But may I ask, "What are you holding in your palm?” he asked courtly, and trying to sound genuinely, despite him starting to worry.
Aino opened up her hand. “Oh, this?” It was a small metal ball, which wore a blue hue. “I found this on my way…”
Flins took the ball from her hand - it was the part of another fae, who had long deceased. “For how much can I buy it from you, Miss Aino?”
“Huh?” She tilted her head in confusion. “It's yours, just… tell me what it is! And also the lamp.”
Flins closed his eyes and calculated for a moment. He tapped on his chin and then turned back to Aino. “Well then, that's just a cheap trick with my lamp. I was posted here and got bored,” He lied, but Aino was nodding in understanding. “And that core - that's a fae’s.”
“A FAE’S?” She basically screamed out, her voice being excited, the way a child can be over myths and tall tales.
“Yes.” He said. His faux ears were starting to hurt. “Once there were plenty of them, being created by the old Tsar - but then they got caught in the whirlwind of times, and they disappeared. They had a different composure than that of humans - that's why they can be easily missed by a layman’s eyes.”
“And you aren't a layman?” She asked, wrinkling her forehead.
“Well, I am, but my hobby is collecting certain things… I just happened to notice it easily.” He finished his tale and bowed slightly. Aino had also finished her meal, and she dusted herself down. There was only a small bag of Krumkakes left now.
“Can I ask where I should go now?” Her lips trembled as she queried. “My leg is hurting and I don't want to get lost.”
Flins noticed the scrapes on her leg before. They should be cleaned out soon, and she also looked like she was about to fall asleep quickly.
He sighed. “You live at the Craftshop?”
She nodded.
Flins lowered to his knees and signaled to Aino. “I can carry you to the edge of the city, as I’m still in office, and I shouldn't be seen there. Only if you’d like to.”
Aino hesitated for a moment, but then she agreed. She gave the rest of the Krumkakes to Flins and got on his back. “Thank you for the piggyback ride.”
Flins probably didn't enjoy it as much as Aino - she fell asleep, and only woke up when they were close. But he was trained better and had better manners than to leave Aino in trouble, so he swallowed his pride and carried her to the Craftshop.
“Thanks again!” She waved at him, and he bowed before her.
He followed Aino to reach the Craftshop from a hill, where Ineffa wrapped her in a tight hug.
Flins didn't even notice that the Krumkakes stayed in his hand, alongside the core of the old fae.
He will make sure to return it.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ 5. ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Sometimes Aino finds pieces of metal that are of no use to her, but she feels like it would be a shame to scrap them. This was the main reason why the Clink-Clank Krumkake Workshop was always full. At certain times, it got so full that Aino couldn't work properly anymore.
That's when Ineffa starts to clean out and throw the excess materials out (that Aino calls ‘hopeful metal’). This can only happen when the workshop’s owner is far away, so that she won't try to save any materials and hide under her bed.
And that's why Ineffa was in an exceptionally tough situation, stuck on the giant magnet, alongside a few tonnes of metal.
What happened? It was an exemplary scene of a missed calculation on Ineffa’s part: after lifting the box outside the house, she didn't take into account that the metal rod tilted at a twenty-two-degree angle, was stopped with said box, and with the stopping force, it would topple over and push the magnet’s button. What happened next is not hard to guess - she got yanked to the magnet, and with all her strength, she was trying to ask for help.
Now then, to ask for help while being stuck on a giant metal is challenging, more than trying to understand Aino’s circuits or her desire for cookies.
Then, an idea struck her - from up high, she could see the Wild Hunt's outbreak from far, and also a Lightkeeper who was trying to defeat them. She just needed to draw the Lightkeeper’s attention to her.
She forced her moving compartments to line up against Aino’s arrangement. All she needed was two wires to touch, and -
Boom!
Electricity ran through Ineffa and the magnet, throwing sparks around. The short circuit went on for ten seconds before Aino’s built-in protection stopped Ineffa from getting destroyed. Sadly, the magnet was safe and sound, despite Ineffa fuming from her mouth.
Glancing over, she saw that the ratnik finished his job and was getting closer through the forest pathway.
He stopped under the magnet and raised his chin towards Ineffa.
“Do you need help perchance?” He asked and stepped over a chunk of metal that Ineffa was meant to discard.
“Good afternoon. Dark clothes, ratnik, blue lamp, analysing input information: Flins. Background: data missing. Insufficient data, major danger. Recommended procedure: enter battle mode. Booting up…”
Flins was listening to Ineffa’s ramble uncaringly. “May I ask how you plan to enter battle mode while being so high up? I prefer battles where both parties are on equal grounds. May I suggest getting down first, and only after should our weapons speak for themselves?”
Ineffa’s robotic mind was clanking loudly as she tried to calculate every possible ending. “Miscalculation. Restarting procedure. The red button on the left centre of the control bar decreases the magnetic force.”
Flins hummed to himself and cautiously got closer to the control bar. The chunks of half-soldiered steel were dangerously sharp - and he didn't want any injury, just in case Ineffa truly wanted to fight him, albeit he believed that it wouldn't happen.
He stared at the control bar. Buttons of all colours, sizes, and shapes were displayed before him. He followed Ineffa’s guide, but there were three red buttons in the area she mentioned.
Sometimes the other Lightkeepers joked about him not understanding modern technology, but this time his pride flared up: he was going to show them that he was not helpless with technology.
He pushed a button, which lifted Ineffa even higher. “Wrong button - height increased to thirty meters. Height is still not dangerous.”
‘Good to know,’ he thought, and pushed the other button. With a loud clank, Ineffa fell into the pit of trash. Another robot, similar to a box, trotted in her direction, almost overbalancing Flins.
“Procedure: finished.”
Flins sighed. At least now that he was on friendly terms with Aino, she got a good point with Ineffa, too.
“Entering battle mode.”
‘Or not,’ He said to himself.
Ineffa booted up, and with the sound of metal clinking together, her hand turned into a weapon. He didn't know what sort of weapon, as he had never seen anything like it - a disk with small blades started to spin fastly, as Ineffa stood up.
Flins sighed once again and reached into his deep pocket.
Ineffa lunged forward, but he only lifted the small bag out.
Her weapon stopped a centimeter away from his face. He could feel the coldness from the metal, similar to his real temperature.
“Unable to recognize.”
“Aino had left these by my side. I wanted to return them, but I was occupied - a common occurrence for food to become spoiled if unconsumed, and I had to discard it. But I have my noblesse oblige and henceforth have returned it with a hundred percent interest.” He shook the bag in his hand before Ineffa. Her eyes moved rapidly as she calculated every possible word that left his lips.
Ineffa lowered her weapon and opened the bag. “Krumkakes.” She said and put the small bag of sweets on the ground. “Possibility: bribing Aino. Entering battle mode.”
Flins would have gotten a migraine by now if he had been capable of it.
But alas, he had no choice - he lifted his lamp, and Ineffa turned on his robotic spinning disk-arm.
“Ineffa!” They heard a bright yell. Suddenly, it grew full of fury. “Ineffa? You were trying to throw out my stuff? Ineffa!”
Ineffa (presumably) left battle mode. She turned towards Aino, who pouted enragedly.
The little girl greeted Flins upon noticing him. “Hello, Mister Flins! But Ineffa, we spoke about it, you can't throw anything out while I’m gone!”
“Living space was limited. I have to ensure a safe and healthy background.”
Flins turned around. He saw every sort of metal and pieces that one can imagine. “Excuse me interrupting your lovely quarrel, but are all these pieces of metal about to be thrown out?”
“No!” Aino attested.
“Yes,” Ineffa stated, ignoring Aino’s angry huff.
“May I suggest gifting it to the Lightkeepers? Or at least, would you allow me to look through them? I’m collecting antiques, and I’m always looking out for any remains from my fallen comrades.” He explained and reached out to the Krumkakes he had gotten for Aino before. “I will repay it discernibly, which brings my attention to the Krumkakes that you had left with me before.”
Aino took the package. Upon opening it, her eyes widened to the size of a smaller plate. “This is twice as much! Everything is yours!”
Ineffa looked at Flins and Aino helplessly. “Aino, that's too many sweets.”
But no, she was already chewing on a Krumkake. “But Ineffa, you wanted to clean the house! You have to choose between the two: you let me have sweets or you clean!”
Flins listened to their dispute.
It was like listening to a family, and it made his chest warm up even for a bit.
That's how he found, among the trash, an old lamp that belonged to a Lightkeeper - one that had died six hundred years ago in a battle.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ +1 ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
There was no storm, just the slowly passing sun in the sky, when Flins broke his promise.
His first medal was cool against his palm, as he descended to the oldest graves. The first ones that he dug.
“I may be late,” He started speaking. His voice, which was usually full of certainty, was now weaker and without composure. “But this truly belongs to you.” He lifted the medal, and it reflected the sun in its glory. Flins placed it on the grave of his long-lost comrades.
Memories and objects come and go, and he, too, needs a place for new relics.
And what isn't Flins’ should be returned to the rightful owner.