Chapter Text
Death has come for Illuga many times in his short life.
It always comes in the form of black flames and purple Abyssal rot. Sometimes it comes as monstrous beasts, and other times as unliving, shambling human bodies, poor souls corrupted and possessed by the dark.
Illuga’s life has flashed before his eyes many times before. Each time, he prepares to leave the world with the same dying thoughts: it’s finally my time. I’m glad it’s me and not them. I wish I could have protected them longer.
He sees it out of the corner of his eye, an axe with an unnatural glow in the pale moonlight, dripping with the blood of his squadmates. It swings through the air towards Illuga’s middle, and when it lands, it will be the death of him. It’s a gruesome way to go, bleeding out from a gash too large to hope to heal. He’s seen it happen many times before.
He was certain the area was clear. Illuga was pressing on ahead, ensuring the way back to Piramida was safe for his wounded comrades. Had he dropped his guard that much? Was he riding too high on their success, the pride of eliminating so many enemies without sustaining life-threatening injuries?
To lose his life to such a trivial mistake… Maybe he didn’t deserve his position after all. It was never meant to be his, not so soon. He never earned it.
There’s shouting from somewhere behind him as his panicked squadmates, his family, prepare to witness their squad leader get cleaved in two.
You shouldn’t have to see this, he doesn’t have time to say. Sorry…
Illuga closes his eyes.
He feels nothing but a sudden burst of cold radiating outwards towards him, covering him in a thick, freezing liquid.
With a choked gasp, he opens his eyes, astonished to find himself able to, and takes in the scene before him.
The axe clatters to the ground and disappears as a puff of smoke, its Wilderness Hunter wielder exploding into disgusting black viscera that rains down on Illuga. Left in the beast’s wake is a wicked spear: jagged, dark, and just as ominous as the weapons used by the Wild Hunt. And behind the spear, thrusting it forward with a single arm, stands a man with the most unnerving eyes Illuga has ever seen.
Illuga blinks once and recovers his bearings, scanning the surroundings for additional monsters and finding none. He glances back towards his equally stunned squadmates and finally releases the breath he’s been holding, relieved to see they’re all still alive, too. The uninjured huddle protectively around the wounded some distance away, and Illuga feels a pang of absolute fondness for them all.
He turns towards the man, who retracts his weapon back by his side, twirling it and flinging Abyssal gunk all about. As a Lightkeeper, being covered in such filth is a common occurrence, and he’s fortunate to be able to call on Aedon for help. The bird emerges from his lantern and circles Illuga, then the man, leaving behind a trail of brilliant golden light that purifies all it touches, ridding them both of the contamination.
Murky green and red eyes track Aedon’s movements with interest, until he disappears behind Illuga to check on the others.
“Thank you,” Illuga starts, addressing the stranger, whose dull eyes are once again fixed on Illuga, looking him up and down in appraisal. It’s admittedly unsettling, but given what this man just did for him, Illuga can smile and bear it. “Your timely arrival –”
“I saved your life,” the man states plainly, cutting Illuga off.
Illuga falters slightly but recovers quickly. “Ah, yes, you did, and I –”
“Even though you stole my fight.”
“Am grateful beyond – huh?” This gives Illuga pause, and he looks at the other in bewilderment.
“I saved your life even though you stole my fight,” he repeats, sounding annoyed, his unnerving eyes narrowing.
“I – I’m sorry?” Illuga flounders, dumfounded.
The man’s lips twist slightly up into a sly grin. “Sorry enough to make it up to me?”
Is he being extorted? It’d be a first for him, but in Nod-Krai, anything’s possible. “Oh – um, I’m afraid I don’t have any Mora, but – hey!”
The man scoffs and rolls his eyes, then suddenly thrusts his spear forward once more, this time, pointing it directly at Illuga’s throat. Illuga steps back and raises his free hand in surrender. With his other hand, he tightens his grip on his own polearm.
“I don’t want to fight,” Illuga attempts, but that only causes the man to jab his weapon forward, threatening to skewer Illuga, and forcing him to step back even further.
“That’s too bad, because that’s exactly what I want.”
Illuga has no idea what he could have done to provoke this stranger’s ire. So, he carefully asks, “Why?”
“Your little group cleared out all the Wild Hunt in the area. What else am I supposed to do for fun?” He cocks his head to the side like that’s the most obvious answer in the world.
He can’t seriously think fighting the Wild Hunt is fun; that’d be outrageous. Illuga and his comrades are out on the front lines fighting a war. Hundreds of Lightkeepers have sacrificed their lives, not to mention all the civilian casualties, his hometown… Illuga pushes back those thoughts with a shake of his head.
As Illuga continues to hold the man’s burning gaze, it becomes clear that the other is deadly serious. All the gratitude he had for the man is replaced with his own flaring anger. It’s just his luck that his life was saved by a madman.
The man takes a step towards Illuga, and this time, Illuga holds himself still as the sharp tip makes contact with delicate skin, stopping just short of piercing through. He’s resolved to hold his ground. “I refuse.”
“Oh? Are you scared, little bird?” the stranger taunts, far too casually for the situation.
“Members of my squad need medical attention. I will see to it that every single one of them makes it back to Piramida. Their safety is my responsibility, and I won’t jeopardize that for your fun,” he seethes.
Their eyes stay locked for several tense moments before the man releases Illuga from spearpoint with a sharp bark of laughter. “So you can fight back after all! Seems like you aren’t as hopeless as I first thought.” He grins, amused, and that, too, is a bit unsettling.
“I appreciate what you did for me,” Illuga bites out, trying to remain civil and ignoring the barbed remark. “But I have had enough fighting for one night.”
The other’s smile doesn’t waver. “So, next time, then?”
“Sure, fine,” Illuga says without meaning it, waving a flippant hand as he turns and heads back towards his squad. He can feel that dark gaze on him as he walks away.
“I’m looking forward to it!” the stranger calls out to him. “See you around, Birdie!”
“I seriously hope not,” he mumbles to himself under his breath.
Of course, his squad asks all sorts of questions, probing him about what the guy wanted and who he was. Illuga readily dismisses the encounter as just one of those things that come with living in Nod-Krai. He has no idea who that was and doesn’t want to run into him again to find out.
They all have enough on their plate just fending off the Wild Hunt. There’s no reason to waste their energy entertaining one man’s ridiculous idea of fun.
But if there was one thing he wished to know, it was how the stranger managed to stop the swing of a Wilderness Hunter in its tracks.
Illuga is well acquainted with death.
He’s seen enough of it to last a lifetime. Several, even.
His birth family saved him from certain death, sacrificing themselves in the process. Time and again, Illuga has tried to do the same, and time and again, he’s failed. The lives of those around him slip through his fingers like sand carried away by the frigid wind.
Still, he chases after them until he inevitably collapses, vowing that next time he’ll be stronger, faster, smarter, better. Next time, he won’t stumble. Next time, he’ll be able to keep up. Next time, he won’t be left behind.
Being the one who always survives never gets any easier.
It’s this mentality that causes Illuga to instinctively shield others with his own body, willingly, eagerly, taking hits aimed at someone else. It’s never mattered who needs protection; he doesn’t even stop to look.
Sharp Abyssal claws graze the skin of his cheek as Illuga throws himself between the Exile and the target of its attack. Illuga parries the next strike, holding the creature back with all his strength.
There’s a second Exile clumsily charging towards them from the side, but luckily, Aedon’s quick enough to intercept it. His golden light stuns the two monsters momentarily, causing them to hesitate and cover their no-longer-existent eyes. It’s the perfect opportunity for the person behind them to flee.
“Go! Get out of here!” Illuga shouts without looking back, “A squad of Lightkeepers is just west of here! They’ll keep you safe!”
“Not a chance, Birdie.”
Illuga doesn’t falter, but it’s a near thing.
From behind him, a familiar stranger darts forward, swiftly rounding the Exile that’s swiping again at Illuga and stabbing a dagger into its neck. The humanoid creature freezes in place, sharp shards of Cryo bursting from within itself. It collapses, dissolving into a puddle of black goo.
Well, then.
The second Exile vanishes in a cloak of black flame and reappears at Illuga’s side. It lunges at him with both arms, but Illuga is faster, dodging to the side and striking its back with his polearm, causing it to fall forward. Before Illuga can finish it off, the stranger pounces, plunging his dagger into its corrupted flesh again and again as it shrieks, stopping only when nothing solid remains. The undead body slowly liquefies under the relentless assault until the stranger is left kneeling in a pool of Abyssal filth.
Monsters deserve no sympathy, but… Illuga’s never witnessed anything quite like this. He can only stare in stunned silence.
The man is still breathing heavily as he stands and faces Illuga, a self-satisfied grin on his manic face. “See?” he says, nearly vibrating with exhilaration. “Wasn’t that just so much fun?”
Illuga never regrets trying to save someone, no matter how much blood he loses or how many bones he breaks. Yet there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.
“No,” Illuga snaps. “You could have easily died. Fighting the Wild Hunt alone like that is beyond reckless. How many were there before I arrived?” Even in the dark of night, he can see there’s more than just two pools of Abyssal muck littering the ground.
He seems to think it over, making a show of counting on his fingers before shrugging. “About a dozen, give or take.”
“A dozen!?” Illuga sputters. “By yourself?”
“No need to worry your pretty head,” the other teases, casually reaching out a hand still dripping with Exile innards, like he’s about to fluff Illuga’s hair or something. Illuga swats it away with a grimace. “I’ve got plenty of stamina left for you, so for your sake, I hope you’ve come prepared.”
Illuga feels faint. “Pardon?”
The man dramatically gasps, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten! You’ll break my little heart, Birdie!” When Illuga doesn’t respond, he sighs and rolls his eyes. He brings the flat edge of his dagger to Illuga’s chin. “You,” he says, forcing Illuga’s gaze up to meet his own intense stare, “Owe me a fight.”
It’s been a few weeks since Illuga incurred this strange debt. He hadn’t forgotten about it, exactly; he just had no desire to think about it ever again.
“I didn’t promise you that,” Illuga tries to reason with the madman, who is, once again, holding a weapon to his throat. Though if he actually wanted to hurt Illuga, he could have done so already with ease. It’s just another empty threat, like before. Probably.
“Oh, but you did.” He has that sly grin on his face, and Illuga can tell he’s full of shit.
“Then I lied,” Illuga says, as calmly as he can, even though nothing of the sort happened.
“Ha!” the man laughs once, sharp as his blade. “Didn’t expect you to admit it. Honesty is one of the three knightly virtues, you know.”
Illuga scoffs before he can stop himself, “Knightly virtues? What would you know about those?”
“Ah, where are my manners? It’s courteous to give your name to the handsome, selfless hero who courageously risked his life against the Wild Hunt just to save yours.” He gives Illuga a pointed look, then finally steps away. He hides his dagger behind his back, his other hand coming to rest over his heart. He bows slightly, like a perfect gentleman, never breaking eye contact, his grin never faltering. “Lohen Imunlaukr, Knight of Favonius, at your service.”
Illuga fights back a groan. He’s never seen anyone so disingenuous in his entire life, and he’s spent all twenty-one of his years in Nod-Krai.
Unfortunately, Illuga has to begrudgingly admit that the man – Lohen, apparently – certainly has the combat skills expected of a knight. Not to mention the knight’s uniform he’s wearing, hard as it is to see underneath all the filth.
“Never met a knight so fond of holding others at knifepoint,” Illuga mutters, just loud enough for Lohen to hear, though Lohen pretends not to. He keeps smiling, looking at Illuga expectantly.
“…Illuga,” he reluctantly offers.
“Illuga,” Lohen repeats once, then again, stretching out each syllable. Without warning, his free hand reaches out to grasp Illuga’s and gently lifts the back of Illuga’s hand to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Illuga,” he purrs, then releases Illuga’s hand.
Illuga definitely does not blush in the slightest.
Illuga finally motions for Aedon, and the Abyssal remnants dissipate under his light. Where has he been, anyway? Surely he hasn’t just been watching Illuga suffer. But that’s a question for another time.
“Wait, is that…” Lohen starts without his usual teasing lilt, then trails off. He frowns, his expression serious. “You really did take a hit for me.”
Illuga nearly forgot about that. He runs his fingertips over the scratches on his cheek, trying not to wince at the sting. Lohen’s narrowed eyes tell him he didn’t quite manage it. His dagger has disappeared to somewhere hidden on his person, and he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.
“It’s hardly anything,” Illuga replies honestly. If this is the only injury of the night, that’s a win in his book, but Lohen doesn’t look convinced. Then, an idea strikes: “Since I got injured on your behalf, I guess we’ll just have to postpone that fight. What a shame.”
Lohen’s eyebrows shoot up momentarily before he returns to scowling. “A damn shame,” he eventually agrees.
“Well, since the fight’s off the table, and there doesn’t seem to be any more Wild Hunt lingering around, it’s about time I reunite with my squad. They shouldn’t be too far, but I’m sure they’re –”
“Illuga.”
Illuga stops his rambling. It’s true he should be getting back to his squad, but maybe he was laying it on a bit thick.
“Let me see.”
“Eh? Hey! Have you considered just asking instead of going straight to manhandling!?” Illuga squawks at the knight who has no respect for Illuga’s personal space. Lohen steps close, gently grabbing Illuga’s chin and turning his head to the side to examine the injury. “‘Knightly virtues’ my ass…” he grumbles.
He can see Lohen’s smirk from the corner of his eye. “How about you make me stop? I bet you’re strong enough.” Lohen leans in even closer, whispering, “Since you haven’t, I’ve had no choice but to assume you like the manhandling. But by all means, correct me if I’m wrong.”
Illuga jolts when he feels something wet briefly touch one of the cuts. Almost like the touch was just a small taste…
“Ugh! Enough!” he shouts, and Lohen gracefully steps back before Illuga is able to push him away.
Did Lohen just – there’s no way he – right?
Illuga is at a complete loss for words. He stands there, unable to do anything but gape at Lohen, who smiles innocently back at him.
Distant voices pull Illuga out of his stupor. “Sounds like my squad. I should…” Illuga awkwardly says, making vague gestures in their direction.
Lohen nods in understanding. “Thanks for saving me, Birdie. Until next time.” He waves Illuga off.
Illuga turns on his heel and jogs over to his comrades; he absolutely does not run away.
Later, in the solitude of his bed, Illuga thinks of Lohen Imunlaukr, Knight of Favonius, replaying those moments over and over until he’s left with a single question.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
He’s still trying to figure out whether he means Lohen or himself.
Facing the Wild Hunt means facing death itself.
For most people, even Lightkeepers, it’s the most frightening thing in the world. Nightmarish monsters made manifest, bringing death and destruction to everything in their path. Unfeeling. Unyielding. Unending.
For Illuga, who has lost everything to the Wild Hunt twice before, nothing is as terrifying as the thought of losing even more. It’s not the beasts he fears, but the bodies they leave in their wake. In his nightmares, he hears not screams but silence.
He’s not afraid of dusk or the monsters it awakens every night. He’s afraid of what might be gone come dawn.
When Illuga leads his squad into the unknown, despite his young age and relative inexperience compared to the likes of Flins or his old pops, they trust him to guide them and keep them safe. Most nights are a success, but other nights…
“There are too many!”
“We’ll never make it!”
“Leave me behind, I’ll only hold you back…”
Not again. Never again.
It’s my turn, Captain Olsson.
“Retreat,” Illuga commands as he deftly stuns an Exile with his lantern and pierces its corrupted heart with his spear. “Everyone who is able, assist the injured. You are all ordered to return to camp alive.”
“Captain…!”
“Reinforcements are on the way.” He sent Aedon out in search of backup. With any luck, “I can hold out until they arrive,” but it’s still a gamble.
“But –”
“Go! Now!” he shouts, risking a glance over his shoulder as the most immediate threat crumples to the ground. He smiles at them, his family, hoping it conveys everything he doesn’t have time to say. When he speaks his final words, “Your lantern still shines so bright,” he hears his former captain’s voice instead of his own. “The long-awaited dawn will be upon me soon.”
They retreat, and Illuga has nothing left to fear.
He fells another Exile and dodges the strikes of two Hunters, aided by a sudden burst of golden light.
“It’s just you and me now, Aedon.” The bird, having finally returned to the battlefield, circles Illuga like a protective shield. Together, they hold back the forces of the Wild Hunt, the horde of Exiles, Wilderness Hunters, and new, as-yet-unnamed abominations.
Illuga’s Geo Vision makes him stronger and more durable than the average person. Still, his body has its limits. At this rate, he knows he won’t make it to sunrise; he only hopes to last until his squad reaches safety.
With the roar of a Hunter still ringing in his ears, he just barely hears the sound of salvation: gunfire.
The shots are aimed at more distant targets, thinning their ranks. Illuga knows they won’t dare fire at those in his immediate vicinity for fear of taking him out themselves. He’s not in the clear just yet. With the barrage of attacks aimed solely at him, he’s forced to be almost entirely on the defensive. It’s a position that’s survivable, but not forever. If there were just one less, then maybe –
“You saved some for me! How thoughtful.”
A familiar presence enters the fray with a flash of royal blue and a freezing burst of Cryo.
Illuga is too busy fighting to survive to wonder how and why this happened to him again.
Lohen breaks through the onslaught with a carefree laugh and a decapitated Exile at his feet. “Alright, Birdie,” he says without pause, immediately flitting to the next enemy. “Time for you to show me what you can really do!”
The remainder of the Wild Hunt went down easily.
Illuga and Lohen fought well side by side, their battle instincts complementing each other’s. Not that Illuga plans to admit it.
Once the threat was finally quelled, Illuga immediately sent word of their victory to his squad via Aedon. He let out a sigh of relief when Aedon returned with good news: everyone had made it back alive.
Illuga readily thanked the three knights who offered their aid, all of whom said they were simply doing their duty. As the Wild Hunt grows more aggressive, some knights have begun joining the Lightkeepers on their missions and patrols. There’s safety in numbers, after all, and the help is more than welcome. In particular, members of the Fifth Company, specializing in ranged fire support and primarily tasked with assisting other units, have become common sights around the various Lightkeeper outposts.
“There’s really no need to thank us!” one of the knights insists. “We were just following our vice captain’s orders.”
“His exact words were, ‘Keep that Lightkeeper safe by any means necessary, or it won’t just be the Wild Hunt haunting your dreams at night,’” the second chimes in, nodding solemnly.
“So really, we should be thanking you for being so skilled and keeping yourself safe!” adds the third knight. Then, he shudders. “I can’t even imagine the thrashing we would have received if something bad had happened to you…”
The first knight loudly clears his throat. “What he means to say is, we’re very happy to see that you’re unharmed, Mr. Illuga. Please, call on us for support anytime.”
“I greatly appreciate that,” Illuga says earnestly. “But who is this vice captain of yours?”
“Sir Lohen, of course.” He gestures toward the battlefield behind Illuga, where Lohen remains, kicking the mangled bodies of the Wild Hunt, searching for signs of life.
Illuga blinks, his brain rejecting the very thought. He can’t decide which is more absurd: that someone chose to make Lohen a ranked officer, or that Lohen is a ranked officer in the ranged company.
“Speaking of,” the third sheepishly starts, “If you could maybe put in a good word for us with Sir Lohen, we would be so grateful.”
“I will,” Illuga promises. They’ve earned it.
“If you have no further need of us, we should head back to the Keep. You know, before…” The first knight trails off, exchanging a look with his two companions, who seem to know exactly what he means.
Illuga cocks his head. “Shouldn’t you report to your vice captain?”
He receives three variations of ‘No, he’ll come find us later’ so quickly that he knows he’s not hearing the whole truth. But, since they’re not his subordinates, or even Lightkeepers, he knows it’s not his place to pry.
The three of them run off, and Illuga heads towards Lohen, ready to get some answers.
Lohen doesn’t look at him as he approaches. “Fight me,” he demands, instead of a greeting.
Illuga was expecting it. “No, Lohen, I’m not going to fight you. I just wanted to thank you once again.”
Lohen lazily stabs his spear into the belly of an Exile and twists, seemingly bored. “You can thank me by fighting me.”
Illuga glares at him and makes a conscious effort to keep his voice level. “Perhaps you didn’t see, but several of my squadmates nearly died tonight. You already got the fight you wanted, so stop asking me. It’s not going to happen.”
“You misunderstand.” With one foot holding the body in place, Lohen violently yanks his spear from the Exile, then watches the black Abyssal goo drip off the tip. “I want to fight you because you’re a hypocrite.”
“Excuse me?”
“‘You could have easily died! Fighting the Wild Hunt alone like that is beyond reckless!’” Lohen mockingly quotes Illuga’s words back to him. “Imagine my surprise at finding you doing the exact same thing.”
Illuga balks. “That’s – that’s different, and you know it!”
Lohen finally turns to face him, sneering, “Is that so? Only the heroic and righteous Lightkeeper Illuga gets to fight the Wild Hunt alone?”
“I risked my life to save my comrades; as squad leader, their safety will always be paramount. I was not being reckless,” Illuga growls, fists clenching at his sides.
“Is that what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night? ‘It doesn’t matter if I throw my life away as long as they get to live’?”
“The only thing I want is to protect them! If that means sacrificing my life, so be it. Besides, I’m not the one who treats the Wild Hunt like a game.”
“I like fighting the Wild Hunt, so what? At the end of the day, we’re accomplishing the same thing: fewer monsters lurking around means more lives saved.”
Illuga’s eye twitches. “No one becomes a Lightkeeper for the fun of it. We do it to keep our home safe, and we don’t do it alone.”
“Right,” Lohen drawls sarcastically. “You weren’t alone after you sent your entire squad away; you had your little bird with you. My mistake.”
“And what about you? I spoke to some of your subordinates for only five minutes, and the mere thought of you had them running for the hills.”
Lohen smirks, and it's infuriating. “You mean running back to Favonius Keep, where they’ll be safe. Say, do you think they’ll bump into your squad on the way?” Lohen throws his weapon down and gestures around them. “No matter how you look at it, we’re the only ones left out here, by our own volition.”
“It’s different,” Illuga still insists, though he knows he's losing ground.
“Sure, I’ll agree that your intentions are nobler than mine. But I bet you’re selfish, deep, deep down. In everything you do, some small part of you does it only because you like to suffer.”
“That’s not true,” he says weakly. His head is pounding. All the day's emotions are catching up to him, leaving him exhausted in every way.
“Prove it, then. Fight me, and I’ll believe you.” Lohen closes the distance between him and Illuga. “I can see how worked up you are. It’s not healthy to keep all that restless energy pent up forever,” he taunts, spreading his arms wide and closing his eyes. “I’ll even let you land the first hit.”
“You’re bleeding,” Illuga says instead, deflecting. He couldn’t see it before, but it’s clear from this distance. He hadn’t seen Lohen get hit, but he must have taken a minor blow to the head for blood to be streaming from his hairline and down his face.
“Am I? I didn’t notice.” Lohen grins and tilts his head, his tongue poking out to obscenely taste his own blood.
Illuga wrinkles his nose. “Disgusting,” he mutters.
“You say that, but I bet we’re far more alike than you think.” He swipes two gloved fingers through his blood, then examines it. His smile turns wicked.
Who does this knight think he is? He knows nothing about Illuga. Nothing.
“You don’t – umph!”
So fast Illuga couldn’t hope to react, Lohen shoves his two fingers into Illuga’s mouth and presses down on his tongue. Illuga violently gags at the gross, metallic taste and the sudden intrusion. Lohen withdraws his fingers before Illuga can shove him away, and Illuga immediately doubles over, spitting out Lohen’s blood.
He hears Lohen laugh, and it’s all too much. Too much noise, too much taste, too much feeling, too much hurt, too much everything. His thoughts spiral: Lohen, Illuga, his squad, blood, Lohen, the Wild Hunt, death, Illuga, Lohen, blood, Lohen, Lohen, Lohen. He can’t take it.
He doesn’t think; he just lets his body react. He rights himself and lashes out, relishing the almost comical widening of Lohen’s eyes as Illuga’s fist collides with Lohen’s jaw. Lohen stumbles back a few steps, and Illuga finds he enjoys the sight of that, too.
Of course, Lohen fights back. Illuga dodges to the side but isn’t fast enough, and Lohen punches his cheek so hard that Illuga sees stars. Still, he easily avoids Lohen’s high kick before the real attack hits: sand.
The bastard actually kicked sand in his face!
Once again, Illuga finds himself doubled over, this time coughing up sand and trying to clear it from his eyes.
Lohen gives him no reprieve. The metal toe of his boot strikes Illuga in the stomach, he wheezes as his legs buckle, and he falls forward onto his knees. Through his watery eyes, he barely makes out Lohen looking down at him, wearing that maniacal smile of his.
He expects another kick, but Lohen surprises him again. He reaches down and grabs a fistful of Illuga’s hair, forcibly pulling him back to his feet. Illuga gasps and cries out as the awful stinging sensation forces tears to spill over.
Face-to-face, Lohen’s hands land on Illuga’s cheeks, but this time not to hurt him. He gently cradles Illuga’s head, his thumbs brushing away Illuga’s tears. His touch is soft, reverent. Illuga hates it, hates him. It’s an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling; he’s not used to hating others.
“Oh, Birdie,” Lohen coos at him, watching Illuga cry with unabashed fascination. “Surely that’s not all the fight you had in you. Come on, hit me again.”
Illuga does. He puts everything he has into his swing, all his pain, frustration, and hatred for the man before him, even the raw strength of Geo from his Vision. With a sickening crack!, Lohen’s nose breaks under Illuga’s fist. Blood gushes out, staining the white of his shirt crimson.
“Damn,” Lohen huffs with a short laugh, gingerly feeling around the break. “You sure did deliver.”
Illuga stares at his bloodstained fist, sluggishly processing what just happened. Did he really hit another person like that? He’s a Lightkeeper; he fights the Wild Hunt, not people. He’s always hated seeing others in pain, and the thought of inflicting pain on another person makes him nauseated. But Lohen hardly lets the pain show. In fact, he looks downright gleeful.
Lohen’s face is drenched in blood. Illuga’s face is soaked with tears. Nothing about this feels right.
The fight continues. Illuga’s Geo makes him hit harder, and Lohen will surely have a dozen bruises across his body and at least one black eye by morning. A punch to the gut sends Lohen back several paces. But Lohen’s Cryo makes him much faster; he appears behind Illuga, kicking at Illuga’s legs and knocking him off balance. Illuga frantically reaches out and, in a stroke of luck, grabs Lohen’s choker, pulling Lohen down with him. They tumble to the ground in a mess of tangled limbs.
Illuga blindly struggles against Lohen, dazed, disoriented, and so, so frustrated. He’s lost the ability to tell up from down or where his body ends and Lohen’s begins. Illuga’s at a disadvantage; Lohen is heavier than he looks and a bit taller than Illuga. Hands pull and push, legs kick, and teeth bite.
Lohen’s teeth sink into the soft flesh of Illuga’s exposed collar, over his old scar. Illuga’s crying again, the pain too much to bear, and that frustrates him even more. He hates this. Lohen makes him feel overwhelmed and weak in a way the Wild Hunt never has. He’s fighting himself just as much, fighting to keep going, fighting to understand why. Why is Lohen doing this? Why is Illuga doing this? Why does he feel so weightless, so powerless, yet so much relief?
Illuga yanks Lohen back by his hair. Lohen’s face hovers just above Illuga’s, and his blood drips, landing on Illuga’s lips. Illuga turns his head and tries to squirm away, but Lohen has him pinned. Lohen seizes the opportunity to wrap a hand around Illuga’s throat while callously pressing into the fresh bite wound. He squeezes just hard enough to make Illuga panic and –
Oh, fuck.
– He lets out a sound he’s never made on the battlefield before, a sound he’s never made outside the privacy of his own bedroom.
They both still. The fight is over.
Lohen doesn’t release him. He keeps his hold on Illuga’s throat but lets up on the bite wound. The only movement between them is the rapid rise and fall of their chests.
It’s only now that Illuga recognizes the position their bodies are in. Lohen is casually slotted between Illuga’s legs, Illuga’s thighs at Lohen’s hips. They’re pressed together so intimately that Illuga jolts at the realization.
He feels his face flush with more than just the exertion of the fight and considers asking Lohen to end his anguish here and now.
“What an unexpected surprise,” Lohen murmurs, sounding distant. “You actually like this.”
Illuga shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. Of course, he doesn’t like this. What’s there to like? Getting the daylights beaten out of him has never been his idea of a good time. Everything feels bad and wrong, but then Lohen shifts, and he feels something else, too. Something new, dangerous, addictive.
When Lohen bucks his hips forward, Illuga gasps, and not just from the pain of being sore all over. He can feel Lohen’s hardness grinding against his own, something he can’t even begin to process, sending sparks of pleasure up and down his body.
Lohen squeezes his throat and bucks forward again, and Illuga shudders beneath him. “Ha-” he moans, gripping Lohen’s shoulders with all the strength he has left, simultaneously wanting to push Lohen off him and pull him even closer.
“Remember what I said, Birdie? Make me stop.”
Illuga doesn’t. He can’t, not when he needs this so desperately. It feels good. It hurts. It hurts and feels good at the same time. It feels good because it hurts.
Illuga tries to make sense of it, but he can hardly think. Clearly, he’s lost his common sense because this, whatever it is, is not normal. He doesn’t get aroused by fighting, he doesn’t take pleasure in pain, and he’s never let anyone touch him like this before. The fact that no one has ever tried is beside the point.
He wants to run from this; he knows he should, but pleasure overpowers reason, and stopping now might actually drive him as mad as Lohen.
“Who would have imagined that the sweet and innocent Captain Illuga could be so indecent?” Lohen pants into his ear.
Lohen keeps grinding his hips, and Illuga’s are moving on their own accord, too, chasing more of the feeling.
Illuga wants to argue, but his tongue won’t cooperate. I’m not, he can’t make himself say. I don’t like this, he tries, but it’s a lie. What finally comes out of his mouth is, “I didn’t want this,” rasped between small, breathy moans.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Lohen teasingly assures him, his free hand slipping under Illuga’s sweater. “If you need a bit of pain to get off, I’m happy to oblige.” He finds Illuga’s nipple and pinches. Hard.
Illuga’s back arches off the ground in time with a powerful thrust. It’s pain and pleasure, so much of it that he’s completely overwhelmed. A twist of his nipple, a few more harsh thrusts, and another bite to his collar are all it takes for him to break. Illuga comes with a broken sob, tears streaming down his face as he gasps for air.
Above him, Lohen groans and shudders through his own release. He then collapses onto Illuga with his full weight, and Illuga’s too exhausted, body and mind, to fuss over the mess of blood, tears, and other fluids between them.
Illuga allows Lohen to rest on him, breathing into Illuga’s neck, while Illuga simply lies in the sand, staring up at the starry sky. For the time being, his mind remains mercifully blank.
Illuga doesn’t know how long they've been lying there like that. It could be a minute; it could be an hour.
Eventually, Lohen rolls off him, muttering a few curses under his breath. Illuga doesn’t watch, eyes still fixed on the sky, but he hears Lohen stretch his limbs, followed by the terrible crunch of what must be him setting his broken nose back in place.
When Illuga still doesn’t move, Lohen’s face appears in his field of vision, hovering above him. “Hey, you still here with me?” he casually asks. Distantly, Illuga wonders if this is normal for Lohen. Maybe getting off with near strangers after fighting the Wild Hunt together and then each other is just another day for him. Illuga wouldn’t know.
Illuga mumbles something incoherent to even himself, but it gets the point across. No, he’s not really here. He doesn’t know where he is.
Lohen pokes his bruised cheek. Then again, harder the second time, when Illuga doesn’t react to the first. “That hurts,” he complains, half-heartedly pushing Lohen’s hand away. With conscious effort, Illuga forces himself to sit up.
His head throbs as he tries to figure out how he got to this point. “What were we fighting about, again?” Illuga slowly manages to ask. His mouth feels dry, his thoughts hazy.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lohen says, waving the question away. “How do you feel?”
He’s not really sure what the right answer is. “Fine,” Illuga guesses.
“That’s not a feeling, Birdie.”
“…Tired, then.” He looks down at himself, at the mess of fluids staining his clothes, inside and out. “Gross.”
Lohen hums in acknowledgment but otherwise doesn’t respond. He stands and reaches down to help Illuga up. He’s grateful for the support; his legs feel like jelly, and his sense of balance is long gone.
Lohen’s sharp eyes track his every wobbly movement. He seems to think something over before stating, “My personal camp is near here. It’s close to the water, so it’s a good place to clean up. You look like you need it.”
Illuga hesitates. All he wants is to collapse into his bed back home. But as he stumbles slightly while gathering his lantern and polearm, he’s not convinced he can make it all the way back to Piramida without collapsing in the middle of the road first.
Besides, Cliffwatch Camp is far closer, and that’s where his squad is waiting for him –
Damn it. They’re waiting for him, aren’t they? He knows Aedon’s message was delivered, but what if they’re worried about him, regardless? How stupid, how selfish he’s been, wasting time doing… he doesn’t even know.
His heart clenches in his chest, and he feels terrible. It’s even worse than when Lohen kicked him in the stomach. “No, I- I should get back. My squad…” He feels sick just thinking about what he’s done.
Lohen suddenly appears before Illuga, looking serious. “Will be just fine without you for a while longer. Use your brain, Birdie. You know they’re capable.”
“My brain feels like it's on fire,” Illuga mumbles aloud without really meaning to.
“Then the cold water will do you a load of good,” Lohen asserts. “Just a quick dip to rinse off. It’ll clear your head.” When Illuga doesn’t respond, he adds, making an unsubtle gesture toward Illuga’s lower half, “I doubt you want to drag yourself into camp looking like you just got railed by a Wilderness Hunter.”
Illuga chokes on his spit. “Have you no shame?” he asks, though he’s already sure of the answer.
“None. Now follow me.”
For some unfathomable reason, he does. He considers calling for Aedon just to be sure he hasn’t been possessed by the Wild Hunt, but decides not to subject his faithful companion to this mess. He hopes Aedon was far, far away during his fight with Lohen and everything that followed.
As they walk, Lohen fills the silence with endless chatter after Illuga asks how he ended up out here. He learns a lot about Lohen, like how he rarely returns to Favonius Keep, preferring to camp alone and fight the Wild Hunt as he pleases, and that when he does return, it’s to resupply and torment his ‘useless’ and ‘moronic’ subordinates with his ‘special training’. Illuga asks no further questions.
Lohen’s personal camp sits in a rocky alcove at the base of a cliff, surprisingly close to Cliffwatch Camp. He keeps his tent closed up as he quickly enters and exits, but from what Illuga can see, it seems like a decent enough setup for being out in the wilderness. It’s close enough to the water to be convenient, high enough not to worry about the tide, and secluded enough to feel private.
At the edge of the water, Lohen casually strips without any fanfare. Illuga hesitates, feeling awkward in a way he realistically shouldn’t. Close-quarters bathing certainly isn’t a novel experience for either of them, given their professions, not to mention that they’ve already been… very close.
When Illuga glances – just glances! – at Lohen, at his admittedly attractive, lithe, athletic body, he breathes a sigh of relief, seeing that Lohen hasn’t actually stripped naked. Then he makes a sour face as his attention is drawn back to the now extremely uncomfortable mess in his own pants, and he refuses to dwell further on Lohen’s similar situation.
In the water already, Lohen gives him a teasing look, and Illuga gets on with it, not wanting to hear what Lohen has to say about his nervousness. For his own sake, he pretends not to notice the way Lohen openly leers as he strips, just short of full nudity.
Though the summer night air in Nod-Krai is temperate, the water is freezing. Living in Nod-Krai means the cold isn’t a particular bother to him, but it sure is a shock to the senses. Illuga submerges himself and washes the filth from his body with the soap Lohen provided. He instantly feels a hundred times lighter, definitely the best he has felt all night.
He’s not about to tell Lohen that, though.
When he looks over at Lohen, Illuga’s breath catches. Water drips from his mint-colored hair, down his freshly cleaned, blood-free face. His pale skin practically glows in the moonlight, giving him a soft, ethereal sort of look. Lohen’s eyes, no longer quite as unnerving now that Illuga’s gotten used to them, remain just as intense as they take in Illuga’s features in return.
“Yes, Birdie?” Lohen smirks, clearly amused. “Need something?”
“No,” Illuga mumbles, looking away. He hurries to finish.
They don’t stay in the water for long. They get out and dry off with some surprisingly fluffy towels Lohen has on hand, far nicer than the ones Illuga would ever buy for himself.
Illuga is surprised when Lohen offers to bandage the open wound he left on Illuga’s collar. Reluctantly, Illuga agrees, only because the clearly human teeth impressions would be hard to explain to the Lightkeeper medics.
Illuga declines any further hospitality from Lohen, allowing himself only a brief rest by the fire before he begins the walk back. He can’t stay long, lest either of them add to the extensive list of questionable decisions already made this night.
Redressing in his grimy clothing is uncomfortable, but if he closes his long coat, he’ll be able to walk back to camp while looking perfectly normal. The thought of anyone finding out what he’s done, of having to explain himself, is far, far worse than the discomfort.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue again,” he says, because it’s true. He’s grateful that Lohen once again helped him out of a tight spot. As for everything else… He’s not sure how he feels.
“While that is actually my job as a knight, I’ll always be more than happy to fight for you. And against you.” He looks Illuga up and down, unashamed. “Though that little bird of yours was very insistent that I head down to the shore. It was happenstance that I was with some of my company at the time.”
Illuga blinks. “You mean Aedon?” Illuga asked Aedon to find reinforcements and, given the urgency, didn’t specify who. Did Aedon purposefully seek out Lohen, or was Lohen just the most convenient option?
“That’s what it’s called?” Illuga nods. “Aedon’s lucky I recognized him. Mistook him at first for another one of those weird animal-plant things you guys have around here.” Lohen makes a face, apparently dissatisfied with Nod-Krai’s wild life. Illuga bites back a sudden laugh.
“Anyway,” Lohen continues, “The next time you’re planning on fighting a horde of Wild Hunt, or if you want to continue our spar, you now know where to find me.”
Illuga gets the sense that Lohen doesn’t make a habit of revealing where he’s staying. He isn’t sure how to feel about being trusted with that information.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Illuga says evenly, though it’s a lie. “Goodbye, Lohen.”
Lohen smiles at him, small and genuine. It makes Illuga’s stomach twist. “Good night, Illuga.”
His walk back to Cliffwatch Camp is thankfully uneventful, giving him plenty of time to think things over.
Illuga decides he has no intention of ever repeating tonight's events. It’d be for the best, for both himself and his squad. His actions were out of character, shameful even. He lost control, was made vulnerable and weak, out in the open, of all places. A Lightkeeper must always remain vigilant and ready to protect those around them at a moment’s notice. To be caught unaware is a death sentence that Illuga knows better than most. That’s how Lohen found him the first night they met; a mistake he’s been careful not to repeat.
All the things he did to Lohen and all the things he let Lohen do to him, all the good and the bad and the complicated feelings he felt, were all a mistake.
Lohen was a mistake.
Illuga decides he’d be better off forgetting any of this night ever happened.
He sees Cliffwatch Camp on the horizon and knows his squad is waiting for him. Lohen is wrong; Illuga isn’t selfish. He’d do anything for his family. He walks toward his destination, towards the destiny he chose for himself, towards the rising sun of the new day.
Dawn is upon him at last.